“He sees . . .”
Her phone dings again, interrupting us. “Good grief,” she says with an eye roll.
“What does Slade want this time?” I ask.
“To make sure you know where the grocery store is.”
*
I didn’t see the point in both of us going to the grocery store. Despite Slade’s lack of confidence in me, I knew I could do that on my own. So I loaded Finn up and did the shopping. And no matter what Slade said, I parked far away. The last thing I needed was to dent the Mercedes. I even splurged on a new playpen for Finn. I couldn’t resist. When I saw the baby store right across the street from the grocery store, it seemed like a sign. By the time I got back, it was late in the afternoon, and Jon had returned to pick up Catrine. Despite my first impression of him, Jon seems to be a big old softy, at least when it comes to his wife and unborn son, smiling at her, doting on her. They’re very sweet together. I haven’t seen much of that in my life. Dysfunctional, yes, but not sweet.
Jon helped me bring the groceries in, but I assured him I could put them away on my own. Accepting help from anyone is hard for me. In my experience, people don’t do things for you without expecting something in return. That goes double for the male species of the population. A part of me still wonders what price I’ll have to pay Slade Turner for this job and when he’ll come to collect.
Catrine gives me a full-on hug before she leaves like you would a friend. It’s been a while since I’ve had friends like that, and it feels good. She says, “Tomorrow, I have my checkup at the doctor, so use it as a cleaning day. I left you a note on the kitchen island. My number’s on there in case you need anything.”
“Thank you.”
“I left a package on the island for you, as well,” Jon says, wrapping his arm around his wife, then they head out for the night.
As soon as they’re gone, I place a blanket on the floor in the kitchen and put Finn down on his stomach with a few toys. He likes tummy time and can get up on all fours now, doing this little rock back and forth. He doesn’t go anywhere, and I’m thankful. I’m not ready for him to crawl yet.
Keeping one eye on Finn, I make quick work of putting everything away. Well, as quick as I can while trying to figure out which cabinet is which. The next order of business is the playpen. Luckily, I don’t need any additional tools to put it together. By the time I finish everything, get Finn and myself fed and bathed, I’m exhausted, but in the best way tired can feel.
Tired because I worked hard, not because I worried hard.
Tired because for the first time in months, I feel like I can be tired. I’m allowed.
With Finn fast asleep in his crib, I sink down into the oversized sofa and grab the remote control. I can’t remember the last time I watched some mindless television. It takes me a few minutes to figure out the buttons, but I go straight to the Cooking Channel and zone out when I do. The cooking show host demonstrates how to make the perfect steak on the stove, not a grill. This must be kismet since my new boss is a meat and potatoes man, so I happily watch, making mental notes. And I almost die laughing when they make green beans as one of the sides. Of course, they also make potatoes, but I won’t tell Slade that.
A noise startles me from my happy place, and I dart up. I can’t see a thing out of the windows. It’s pitch dark outside without the benefit of streetlights like in the city. I’m sure there is outdoor lighting, but damn if I know which switch it is. This house has more light switches than I’ve ever seen, and some of them do things other than turn on and off the lights—some control ceiling fans and another the garbage disposal. Yet others seem to have no purpose, or else I haven’t figured it out yet.
The noise comes again, and this time, I can tell it’s coming from the kitchen. It sounds like a phone ringing faintly, but I know it’s not my ring tone. Flicking on the light, I wait and listen. When it rings again, the package Jon left wiggles just slightly. I’d forgotten to open it.
Tearing open the box, I find a brand-new smartphone, tablet, and laptop computer. A small note rests on top.
Paige Hudson, M.D. has a nice ring to it.
It’s not signed, but I know who it’s from.
Holy crap! Why would he do this? I don’t usually find men this confusing, but Slade has me not knowing which way is up.
Looking down at the missed call, I see it’s Slade’s number. He’s the only contact number saved in the phone. I wonder why he was calling. To make sure I got the gift? Does he need something? Should I call him back? Or just text? I have to thank him, and that deserves a phone call. But this is a lot. I can’t keep this, right? I mean, buying things for Finn is one thing, but for me? There has to be a catch.
Trapped in my internal debate, I shouldn’t be surprised when the phone rings again, but I still jump slightly. My boss needs something. I should answer.
“I’m very grateful for the gifts. Thank you, but there’s no way I can accept,” I say when I answer.
“Well, hello to you, too,” he says with a hint of mischief in his voice.
“I don’t want you to think I’m not appreciative. I am. But it’s too much.”
Ignoring me, he asks, “How was your first full day?”
“It was fine,” I say, blowing out a deep breath. “Are you listening to me?”
“Yes, and I’m choosing not to respond.”
Two can play that game. “Did you need something?”
“Just checking on you and Finn. Your first night alone in the house. I wanted to make sure everything is okay,” he says.
“We are fine.”
“Alarm on?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, even though I can’t remember doing it.
“You sure?”
I glance toward the panel on the wall. Sure enough, he’s right. I forgot to set it. Quickly, I hit mute on my phone so he won’t hear me activate it. “Yep.”
“Good.”
“I can’t keep this stuff,” I whisper.
“Thought you’d be used to getting gifts from men, given your previous occupation.”
A tear rolls down my cheek, and I wipe it away. “Leaving all that behind, remember?”
I hear him exhale into the phone. “I need you to have a reliable phone, not that flip thing you use.”
“I’ll keep the phone, but I need the other stuff to go back. I can use the computer here.”
“If that’s what you need,” he whispers. “Good night, Paige.”
He doesn’t wait for me to respond before hanging up. My new boss completely confusing. One minute, he’s sweet, and the next minute, he doesn’t hesitate to throw my past in my face. I wonder if he’ll ever look at me and not see the woman he met on his father’s arm.
CHAPTER SIX
PAIGE
I toss and turn all night long. The quiet of the country should settle me, but it doesn’t. When you’ve lived on the edge for so long, it’s hard to trust the stillness. Most people relish doing nothing at the end of the day and look forward to the peaceful slumber. I think that’s why everyone advocates meditation these days. They enjoy the solitude. It settles them.
For me, it’s the opposite. Quiet is waiting for the other shoe to drop. The stillness of the night is waiting to be broken by the sounds of gunshots or the creak of my bedroom door because one of my mom’s tricks thinks I’m part of the bargain. Quiet is what you hear right before someone smacks you to the ground, and everything moves in slow motion. There is no safety in the night, no protection in the stillness. At least when it’s loud, you expect what’s coming and can be ready. It’s when you’re hit unexpectedly that it hurts the most. That’s what the quiet is for me—unexpected. I’d rather hear the asshole’s footsteps as he approaches my bedroom door, so I can grab the knife I keep under my pillow.