Page 70 of Home Game

“Which one was she?”

“The mom. She looked about 60 and she had the short gray hair. She had this warm vibe and I could see Zoey totally respond to her.”

“Let’s go with her then.”

“She admitted that she can barely text. How is she going to handle your website and your social media? All of that.”

I stopped short. “I have a website?”

“That’s the point. Bianca will be able to both build you one and maintain it.”

“If Zoey liked the older lady, let’s go with her.”

Krista sighed. “How long is Zoey going to live with you?”

I hated that question. Zoey was a long way off from moving out. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Zoey might be on her feet and out of your place in a couple of months. Then you will be stuck with a 60-year-old mom that likes to give warm hugs and doesn’t have a fucking clue about how to do her job.”

It was stupid, but I wanted more than anything to hire someone who would give Zoey warm hugs. “I get it.”

“So Bianca?”

“You have your reservations though.”

“I do. She didn’t shake Zoey’s hand on the way out.”

I hadn’t even noticed. Krista sighed. “Just keep your eye on her. She will need strong boundaries.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll make her an offer. Six-month probation. Just to cover our asses.”

Zoeyand I didn’t speak on the way home. Once in the door, I made myself a huge smoothie when someone knocked on the door. It was a delivery guy.

“I have a delivery for Zoey?”

“Of course you do.” I called over my shoulder, “Zoey, it’s for you.”

Zoey came out of her room. I towered over her while she signed for her package.

I shut the door. “You order something?”

She shook her head. “No.”

I went back to my smoothie, glad when she walked to the island to open the package. Inside the box was another box. With a familiar Apple logo. She gasped. There was the latest and greatest phone the company had to offer. In pink. All shiny and new.

“Did you order this?” she looked at me, her eyes shining.

“Nope.” But I wished I had. “Is there a card?”

I noticed that her fingers trembled when she ripped open the little card. She read the card and then handed it to me.

I’m not trying to make you be like everyone else, but I need to talk to you if I’m going to ask you out.

“Jensen?” I asked, my voice tight.

She shrugged, avoiding my gaze.

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