“Well, no, not right now. I had to take a break with Finn and everything, but I want to go back. I’m about halfway to getting my bachelor’s.”
“What did you study?”
“Nursing.” I take a deep breath, revving up for the monologue that’s coming. “Originally, I wanted to go to med school, but it takes a long time, so I was thinking I’d get my nursing degree, then maybe go back in a few years and . . . I was actually hoping to maybe take a night class next semester if that’s alright. I could leave Finn with a sitter. Not here, of course. Maybe just take one class. That’s why I wanted the computer, to see what’s being offered. I promise it wouldn’t interfere with my work here. It’s probably stupid to bring this up on my first day. It’s just with the salary you’ll be paying me, I can finally afford to take some classes again.” I stop to take a breath, quickly opening my mouth to continue my argument, but he simply holds up his hand.
“You just started working here, and this is what you’re thinking about?” he asks.
Of course, he’s right. I should be thinking about this job, not bettering myself to leave this job. Getting to my feet, I start to stress clean. You know, when you clean to avoid? “Forget I said anything. I should’ve waited.”
The baby monitor lights up with a deafening scream. Without looking back, I leave my plate in the sink and head toward my room. “New place. He’s probably a little confused about where he is. I’ll clean up first thing in the morning.”
I don’t give him time to respond before rushing to my room.
CHAPTER THREE
SLADE
This has to be one of the strangest nights I’ve ever had with a woman. She gets me to eat green shit, berates my choice of napkin, then rushes off to a screaming baby. What the hell am I doing?
I’ve been asking myself that same question ever since I saw her walk in on my father’s arm. One look at her and no way in hell was that happening. I’ve watched my father’s parade of women most of my life, and I’ve mostly kept my opinions to myself. What a man does in his bedroom is his business. If the woman is willing, and the man is willing, then I don’t give a fuck, but one glimpse of Paige changed all that.
She’s beautiful, all my father’s women are, but none of them has ever made my head turn, my heart skip a beat, and my dick stand up and take notice. Even as I approached her that night, I had no idea what I was doing other than saving her from my father. I could’ve left it at that, but instead, I went to her shithole of an apartment. Then the job offer and shopping for Finn.
I don’t do all that for a woman because she’s hot as fuck. She is, but that’s beside the point. I don’t do serious relationships. And I’ve certainly never done anything like this before.
Love at its best is fleeting; at its worst, it’s a weapon.
Even if I wanted to take that bullet, Paige is almost ten years younger than me, was with my father, and appears as gun-shy about love as I am. I’ve never done the whole love thing. Luckily, the woman usually waits for the man to be the first to make such a declaration. For most women, there’s a time limit on when a guy should say it. If you’re approaching a year and haven’t uttered that word, the writing’s on the wall, which is fine by me. If you’re unlucky, and the woman happens to say it first, well, she’s signed her own pink slip.
I’ve lived my life by that. No falling in love. No big commitments like living together. Again, what the hell am I doing with this young single mother in my house?
All I know is that I want to protect her and Finn. The why isn’t important. I’m making up everything else as I go along.
I’ve always been the type who follows my gut, and I’ve never been afraid to take a risk. For the most part, it’s worked for me. You don’t get where I am in business at the age of thirty by playing it safe. But there’s risk, and there’s downright stupidity. And nothing can make a man more stupid than a woman.
Any reasonable person would think I’m insane for bringing Paige and Finn into my life and my house. Lucky for them, I live by my gut. Following instinct versus reason has landed me in hot water before, but those times are rare. If my mind and my gut disagree on the next course of action, I usually go with my gut. This is definitely one of those times.
“Finn.” I hear her voice and look down. She’s left the baby monitor in the kitchen. Reaching down to turn it off, I graze the button with my finger, but hearing her sweet voice stops me. “It’s okay. Shh!”
I know I shouldn’t listen. I should turn the damn thing off or, better yet, take it to her, but I don’t.
“What are we doing here, buddy?” she says quietly, the baby settling at her voice. “I promise I won’t mess this up. What was I thinking, asking about school so soon? No more of that. I need to be happy with what I’ve got. You, this job. That’s enough. That has to be enough. No more selfish dreams. I’ll save every penny. You won’t ever have to give up on your dreams or watch them die.”
I listen to her talk him to sleep, promising him over and over that she won’t mess this up, promising him a good life, a home. It’s a mantra. One I’m sure she’s said before. It’s the most selfless declaration of love I’ve ever heard.
Most “I love you’s” come with conditions. Forget what wedding vows say. The phrase “I love you” is always followed by an unspoken “if.” I love you if you stay beautiful. I love you if you provide for me. I love you if you don’t screw up. You’ll love me if I’m perfect. You’ll love me if I do what you say and want. The list is endless.
It’s a lie, a farce, a fucking fairy tale. I don’t plan on ever getting married, but if I did, my future wife would have to vow to love me when I’m an asshole. Don’t think there’s a woman alive ready to take on that life sentence, and I don’t blame her. Forever and women should not be thought of in the same sentence, but somehow, against all common sense, I have a young woman living in my house—a young single mother, to boot.
As soon as I saw her walk in on my father’s arm, something shifted inside me. It’s a wonder it wasn’t felt on the Richter scale. I’ve seen my father use women before—countless times. I never stepped in, never interfered. Paige is the first.
The decision was that quick. It almost wasn’t a decision at all. In business and in my personal life, that’s usually how I know I’ve done the right thing. If I can go to sleep at night without giving something another thought, it’s almost a guarantee I’ve done the right thing. The night I met Paige, I slept better than I have in years.
“We will be happy,” she says, and I know I’ll do anything in my power to make that possible. “Content.”
I hate that word, content. I know it’s about being happy with what you have and where you are, but if everyone lived that way, then nothing new would ever be discovered. What happened to drive and ambition? It’s obvious Paige has it, already looking forward to school and classes. That’s not someone who’s “content.” To be content is to accept your lot in life. I didn’t drag her out of that shithole of an apartment for her to be content.