Park Avenue Player(13)
“Have we ever met before yesterday?”
My brows drew down. “I don’t think so.”
He scratched his chin. After another long bout of contemplation, he pushed off the kitchen counter and extended his hand. “Let me think about it and talk to Hailey.”
“Really?”
“No promises.”
***
I’d just parked in front of my little rental house in Connecticut when my cell started to ring. I dug it out of my messy bag and checked the caller ID.
“Hello?”
“As far as I’m concerned, if you aren’t five minutes early, you’re late. I hate it when people keep me waiting.”
Hollis. The man really needed to learn how to talk on the phone.
“Ummm… Who’s this?”
“Don’t screw with me. Do you want the job or not?”
I inwardly fist pumped and jumped in the air. “Yes. Yes, I think I do.”
“When can you start?”
“How about Monday?”
“Monday. Seven o’clock.”
I smiled. “I’ll see you at five to seven.”
Even though Hollis had said he’d think about it, I hadn’t left his place feeling too confident. I certainly hadn’t expected a call barely an hour after I walked out his door. But I was thrilled he’d changed his mind. I tapped my steering wheel in amazement.
“And I can’t wait to get to know Hailey better.”
A little voice inside of me, one I refused to answer, added, “And you, Hollis LaCroix.”
Chapter 7
* * *
Elodie
“I got the job!” I held up a bottle of Dom Perignon when Bree opened the door, handing it off to her as I helped myself inside her house.
She studied the label. “Wow. Must pay well if you’re splurging for the good stuff.”
“Nah. Someone from the college sent it to Tobias as a wedding gift when we got married. I put it aside to have as something special on our one-year anniversary. When I packed his stuff, I gave him the figurines someone else had sent us. You know, since he hated shit like that. I only kept the stuff I thought he would’ve really enjoyed. I forgot I even had it until now.”
Bree smiled. “Good call. He loves pretentious crap like this. That’ll make it taste extra delicious for us.”
I slipped off my shoes and plopped down on the couch, bringing my legs up under me. “I hope you can open it. Last time I tried, I wound up splitting the cork into pieces and digging them out with a fork. I had to spit out cork bits after every sip.”
Her response was a loud pop a few seconds later. She held the cork up for inspection, still very much intact, between her thumb and forefinger, and coughed. “I’m not supposed to have any. But I’ll make an exception for your celebration.”
Bree was actually my ex-husband’s stepsister. A few months before Tobias and I broke up, she’d moved back to the little town in Connecticut where we lived, to be closer to her family. Tobias hadn’t had much contact with her before that, and I’d only met her once at a wake for one of their cousins. But the two of us hit it off immediately. We’d become fast friends, and when I’d caught Tobias sleeping with one of his students and kicked him out, she was my biggest supporter.
One night, after a few glasses of wine, she’d admitted she never liked her stepbrother much. The best thing I’d gotten out of my short-lived marriage and subsequent divorce was Bree.
A few months ago, when the lease to her apartment was up, the cottage next door to me happened to become available for rent. Since she’d moved, I pretty much saw her every day. She’d become the sister I never had. And it allowed me to keep an eye on her health. Bree had moved back home to be near her father because she has lymphangioleiomyomatosis, a horrible lung disease with a sickening short-term survival rate. Only fifty-five percent of those afflicted lived five years. Twenty percent made it ten years. But you’d never know it from Bree’s attitude.
She untangled the tubing attached to the oxygen machine she spent her days tethered to and walked over to the couch to pass me a wine glass. “Champagne flutes are for amateurs. Wine glasses hold more.” She clinked her glass to mine, and we both drank.
“So…tell me…about the job?”
“Oh my goodness…well, where do I start? I’ll be taking care of an eleven-year-old girl, who I happened to meet accidentally when I was leaving his office that first day. She reminds me so much of myself when I was a kid. I really think I have a lot of insight to offer her.”
“That’s great. I’m excited it worked out.”
I gulped some more champagne and pointed to her. “I have you to thank for that. If you hadn’t read that classified ad, I’d be getting mauled by Mrs. Brady’s husband tomorrow.”
“Who?”
“One of Soren’s clients.”
“Oh. Well, I’m thrilled you’ll be working in the field you went to school for. But I’m even more thrilled you won’t be working that crazy job anymore.”
I sighed. “You know, I feel like everything works out for a reason. That job might not have been ideal, but it paid well and gave me a place to blow off the steam I needed to after everything happened with Tobias. Although it was also a constant reminder of all the reasons there are to hate men, and it probably wouldn’t be a healthy profession to stay in if I’m ever going to move on.”