But with her. Damn. I’d been tempted.
“No. Nobody at all,” I fibbed a little.
But how the hell would I look telling them I’d spotted a girl twice in the city and had one small conversation with her and decided maybe she could have been it?
But she could have been. I hadn’t been interested in anyone in years and there she was looking like a fresh out of the oven homemade blueberry muffin amidst a bunch of day old bread.
God, I really did have a food problem.
“What about at least someone to help you and Andrew around the house? With cooking and babysitting? You don’t have to do it all yourself, ya know?” Graham chimed in.
“I don’t need help babysitting.” I immediately felt affronted. I’d never left anyone alone with Andrew besides my mother. That was the perk of owning your own billion dollar business. I took my kid with me everywhere. And I dared someone to say something about it. And if by chance I couldn’t bring Andrew along, then my mother had him.
We didn’t need a woman. I sometimes wanted one, but we didn’t need one. And I was sick of everyone telling us we did.
“He’s my son and I take good care of him.”
Soraya sat on the arm of the couch right next to me and wrapped her arm around my shoulder. I didn’t know her well but she was so friendly and easy going, her closeness didn’t surprise me. “Of course you do, Whit. No one here thinks otherwise. You’re a wonderful father and Andrew is an amazing kid and that is all because of you. But there is no shame in having a little help. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a home cooked meal or even someone for Andrew to play with when you have to work from home?”
I let out a deep breath knowing she and Graham didn’t mean that I wasn’t a good father. I knew they wanted nothing but good for us, but I’d learned the hard way when you opened your heart to someone, only then did they have the ability to break it.
And that was the last thing my boy and I needed again.
But she did have a point. It might be nice to have someone who could play with Andrew and cook us good meals. My mouth watered at the thought.
“It might be nice to have someone cook for us and maybe play with Andrew,” I agreed.
Soraya gave me a squeeze before standing up and pulling away. She gave Graham a beaming smile that was almost naughty before turning to me. “I might know someone who could help,” she said too nonchalantly before leaving the room like she was up to something.
I wished I could have said I was surprised, but in my experience most women were always up to something. So I just went with it. It was imperative to my sanity.
Grace
“Come on, Grace. Go out with me. I don’t want to go alone, but I really want to hear this band play.”
I was laying in my bed next to my laptop, trying to remember my roommate’s name so that I could firmly tell her no. I’d already told her I was busy three times. And I was busy. Laying on my bed staring at my computer screen. I was beginning to realize that being a writer was really just spending every spare second you intended to write procrastinating.
And I was getting really good at being a writer by procrastinating, but I wanted to procrastinate in my pajamas at home, not in some bar.
“Grace!” she called again on the other side of the door.
Oh. My. God. What was her damn name? I was literally the worst but in my defense, we’d never hung out and she was hardly ever home. In my mind, I referred to her as the girl who slept in the living room on the futon.
It started with a K, I think. Kayce. Her name was Kayce. “I’m sorry, Kayce, but I have a ton of work. I can’t go out tonight.”
“Kylie. My damn name is Kylie. And please, come with me. I’ll buy you a drink. Pretty please.”
Damn it. I’d gotten her name wrong and now this whole thing had backfired. I gave a big sigh and got my ass off of the bed and walked to the door feeling like a proper piece of shit.
I opened the door and peered out at Kayce Kylie who was dressed to the nines and in a short cobalt blue strapless dress and black booties. Her makeup was immaculate and her brown hair was curled to perfection. I was in my pajamas.
“I’m sorry, Kylie.” I swallowed nervously. “About the name slip-up.” I did feel really bad. I needed to make a better effort, but in all honesty, I was leaving this hell hole as soon as I got a job and enough money and until tonight, she’d never spoken two words to me.
She pursed her lips. “If you’re sorry, then get dressed and come with me.”
Wow. Way to put a girl on the spot. I looked down at my pink sleep shorts and white cami. “It will take me ages to get ready. You’re already ready to go. You should just go on without me,” I said, fake smile and all.
She glared. “You should just go get a nice dress on quickly since you were an asshole and couldn’t even remember my name.”
She had a point there. “But I don’t even have anything nice to wear,” I argued. It was true. I wasn’t a clubbing type of girl. I didn’t keep a plethora of short spandex dresses in my wardrobe. The fanciest thing I owned was a hundred dollar pair of skinny jeans.
She looked at me for approximately two seconds before she walked away. I let out a relieved breath and headed back for bed, prepared to continue my professional level of procrastination when I was slapped in the face with something red.
“Wear that and a pair of nude shoes,” Kayce Kylie said and then she was gone again.
Damn it. I hadn’t gotten out of it, after all.
I made quick work of changing into the skimpy dress that tied around my neck and left my arms and shoulders bare. After looking at myself in the mirror five hundred times, I decided it was the kind of dress that you just couldn’t wear underwear with, even thongs. So, I slipped my underwear off, praying no one saw my ass tonight.
I took my hair out of its ponytail and fluffed it a bit until it hung around my shoulders before applying the barest amount of mascara and lip gloss.
I wasn’t a makeup kind of girl by any stretch of the imagination and I wasn’t going to pretend to be one to go to a bar I didn’t even want to go to in the first place.
As I was putting on my hoop earrings, I noticed how miserable my face looked and I was immediately disappointed with myself.
I should make an effort with Kylie. It was pretty damn rude that I didn’t remember her name. And she’d asked me to go out. She wanted to be friends. And let’s face it, I’d been horrible at making friends since moving here. The only friend that I’d actually made was Clive. I sucked. If I was going to make this place my home, I needed to get out there. And Kylie was giving me the perfect opportunity.
As I put on a pair of nude wedges, I promised myself I was going to go out tonight and give a new friendship a chance and to really take in the nightlife of the city, which I had yet to do. I was going to have a good time, damn it.
I grabbed a small clutch and shoved my license, credit cards, and cash inside with my phone and called out to Kylie, “I’m ready!”
She immediately grabbed my hand and dragged me to the front door of our apartment. Two train rides later, we arrived at a bar that had a line out the door. But Kylie rushed us past all of the waiting people and straight to the bouncer at the front door, who only smiled at her and opened the door for us to enter.