Page 1 of Six of Hearts
One
Aria
My hands were shaking on the steering wheel as I drove through one of the nicer neighbourhoods in Silverake, Texas.
Not from nerves—well, not just from nerves—but from the three cups of gas station coffee I'd downed that morning because I couldn't afford anything else.
My bank account had $47.23 in it. $47.23 between me and complete disaster.
I caught a glimpse of the house that was my intended destination and let out a hollow whistle. It was gorgeous.
It wasn't a mansion by any stretch of the imagination, but from the white picket fence that sat in front of it, the pristine white paint that covered the moulding on the outside, and the manicured lawn, it still had a bit of money behind it.
The kind of money that could save me.
I pulled up to park in front of it and took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
It was about a quarter till 10 o'clock in the morning, and I was due for a job interview in ten minutes. I was a recent graduate with my degree in early childhood development, drowning in student loan debt and desperately needing to get some experience working with kids under my belt—experience that actually paid enough to live on.
I'd posted my credentials and desires to a job board three weeks ago, right after my landlord had taped an eviction notice to my door. A man named Noah Blake called me shortlythereafter—a single father who needed a nanny and was willing to pay well above market rate.
This job could change everything. It had to.
But it wasn't just about the money. I'd spent four years studying child development because I genuinely loved this work.
I'd volunteered at after-school programs, worked summer camps for barely minimum wage, tutored kids whose parents could barely afford to pay me.
Every time I'd considered switching to a more lucrative field, I'd remember the way a child's face lit up when they finally understood something, or how they'd run to hug me at pickup time.
That was what I wanted to do with my life—even if it meant struggling financially.
At least, that's what I'd told myself. Now, staring at this beautiful house with $47.23 to my name, I had to admit the salary mattered too.
Fall was just settling in and I was determined to finally put my new skills to good use.
I flipped down the visor and popped the cover off the mirror to check, for the fifteenth time that morning, that I looked okay. I had my dark-blond hair pulled back into a high ponytail, which really allowed my shimmering, blue-green eyes to be the crown jewel of my pale face.
I had on a cyan-coloured blouse and a black pencil skirt, with a pair of my favourite black pumps.
Professional but approachable. Competent but warm. Exactly the image I wanted to project.
Confident I looked the part, I stepped out of the car and made my way towards the front door. The closer I got to the house, the larger it seemed to get. It was designed to not disturb the cookie-cutter image of the suburban neighbourhood it resided in, but it definitely boasted a larger square footage.
It was probably two stories from the outside and looked like something fresh out of a Homes and Garden magazine.
I rang the doorbell and gave my outfit one final smoothing down, just in time for the door to open.
The man who answered was striking—tall, with tanned skin, dark eyes, and medium-length hair swept back from his face. He had a neatly trimmed goatee and wore a button-up shirt that suggested both professionalism and the kind of casual confidence that came with working from home. I could see the edge of a tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve.
"You must be Aria," he said, his voice warm and deep.
"I'm Noah."
He stuck out his hand, and I shook it, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach. He was attractive—very attractive—but I was here for a job interview, not to get flustered by a handsome single dad.
"Yes. Aria Kent," I managed, pleased that my voice came out steady.
Noah chuckled, as if he'd noticed my momentary hesitation. "It's lovely to meet you. Come on in.”
