Page 34 of The Last Thing
The door swings open almost immediately, and I’m greeted by Deck’s stupidly handsome face. It’s annoying how hot he is. Especially right now.
“Hallie—”
“Good morning, Mr. Decker. Is Sophia here?”
He opens the door a little farther to let me in. “She is, but we need to?—”
“Miss Hallie!”
I smile brightly when Sophia dashes into the room and runs over to give me a hug.
Deck can go fuck himself as far as I’m concerned, but being Sophia’s nanny requires no effort. She’s a sweetheart.
“Do you know how to curl hair?”
I laugh at that. “I do. But curling irons can be a little dangerous and burn you.” Her little face falls, so I continue. “But I have a secret magic way of curling your hair while you sleep.”
Her eyes light up. “Really?”
“Yes. I can bring my secret weapon here tonight when you get ready for bed.” I look over at Deck. “If your dad’s okay with that.”
“That’s fine. We should?—”
“Daddy, you need to go to work.”
I check the time, and she’s right.
“You do. I’ve got things from here.” Walking toward him, I keep my most professional face on. “Does she have any allergies I need to know about?”
Decker’s jaw ticks for a second before he answers. “No. Her only issue is she has sensitive skin and occasionally breaks out in hives. Don’t use any lotions or soaps that we don’t have here in the house. And if you do her hair, don’t add any products. If you notice any hives, usually a cool compress will do it, but we have twenty-four-hour allergy meds for mild cases and Benadryl for worse ones. If it seems really bad, obviously?—”
“Call an ambulance or get her to the ER.”
Dad mode seems to take over for him, and that’s fine by me because it’s much easier to work with.
“You’re CPR certified, right?”
“Yes. I renew it yearly to make sure I’m up to date on any new recommendations. Also, let me know if you think her hives are severe enough that I should carry an epi-pen. Now,Sophia’s right. You should get to work. But at this point, I should probably get your number. If that’s okay with you.”
The bite to my voice makes his brow furrow. He stares at me for a beat, then points to the fridge. “My number, my mom’s number, AB Construction’s number, and my boss’s number are all there, along with her pediatrician and school numbers.”
“Okay then. We’re all set. You can head to work.”
As I spin to walk away, he grabs my arm, pulling me back.
His hot breath tickles my ear as he leans in. “Tonight, we’re going to talk.”
Then he lets me go and walks over to Sophia while I try to ignore the shiver that moves through me.
Wilson Decker can go fuck himself.
Sophia is a vibrant,whip-smart kid.
She talked the whole morning, telling me all about an art project she’s working on and the dance classes she’s going to take. Then the entire walk home today, she practiced her multiplication tables, regularly looking at me for affirmation that she was correct, which challenged the math side of my brain I haven’t used in a while.
Since her dad hadn’t had time to change her pick-up and drop-off routine yet, I walked her over to the daycare Deck’s boss’s wife runs—or so Sophia says—to get her on the bus, then picked her up there this afternoon.
I went to the store while she was gone and got some food for their apartment and for mine.
