it keeps her occupied, I should be glad. But how long can that last? And when is her bedtime?
And how is it that I am in Gavin’s house, babysitting the daughter I didn’t know he had, while he’s passed out with a virus in the bedroom?
It’s shocking that Ella’s mom left her here with me at all, given the fact that she has never met me, didn’t get any kind of okay from Gavin, and didn’t leave any kind of instructions, just a little girl and a bright pink bag with the Louis Vuitton logo all over it.
Who buys Louis Vuitton luggage for a child? Right. Gavin’s ex.
“Abby, what am I supposed to do? I can’t handle this.”
She chuckles into the phone and I make a mental note to make her pay the next time I see her. “She’s not going to bite you. Wait—how old is she? Because she actually might.”
“She’s maybe like … ten. Ish?” I am the worst with children. At knowing their ages. At knowing what to do with them. I never even babysat. Babies cry when they look at my face, so I’ve always given them a wide berth. I have a theory that children can see right into your soul, and they’ve always seemed to find mine lacking in some regard.
I don’t do kids.
Yet, here I am. When Gavin wakes up, he’s giving me a raise. And then maybe finding me a new job.
“Call the house. Maybe Delilah or Sam or Harper could help? I mean, if you really don’t think you can do this on your own.”
“I’m sure I’ll figure something out,” I grumble. But as soon as we hang up, I’m dialing the house. We all have cell phones, but I figured it’s like a game of roulette with the landline. Delilah is the lucky winner, and her sweet, Southern voice fills my ear.
“Hey, Delilah. I need a massive favor.”
“Of course. Just let me know what you need, hon.”
I sigh in relief. “It’s a very long story. But I’m here at Gavin’s house.”
She screams, and I have to hold the phone away from my ear. Ella even hears it and looks up from her tablet, seeing me as though for the first time. And yep, she finds my soul lacking and goes back to whatever she’s watching.
“Finally! You and Gavin! I knew it! We all knew it!”
“No, D. It’s not like that. Sh! Listen. I need help!”
She giggles. “Okay, but you’ll have to promise to tell me what it is like. I can’t wait. Is he a good kisser?”
My neck is hot and I fan my cheeks. “Delilah. I need help babysitting Gavin’s daughter.”
The line goes silent. “What?” She sounds totally confused.
“Yes. The short story is that his ex-wife dropped off his daughter here and he’s passed out sick. I need help.”
“You need me?” she says.
I groan. “Please. I don’t know who else to call. And handling a sick man is hard enough.”
“But I can’t help until tomorrow at like nine.”
“Tomorrow? No, I need help now.”
“You know I would if I could, darlin. Give me the address and I’ll be there in the morning.”
When I hang up, I text Delilah Gavin’s address, then hold the phone to my chest, staring across the room at Ella. She doesn’t really look like Gavin, but more a carbon copy of Eleanor. So far, her attitude isn’t much different either. She doesn’t seem to think I’m worthy of a hello or more than the one glance she gave me a minute ago.
Where is she supposed to sleep? Gavin didn’t mention a daughter to me, ever, and he definitely doesn’t have a room set up for one. I know because I looked in all the rooms earlier when I was trying to locate the master bedroom. He has a guest bedroom, which is not all that unlike his master bedroom, very grown up and not at all pink. The third bedroom is part office and part exercise room with a treadmill, some weights, and a desk. Nothing in this house screams that Gavin has children.
The more I think about all this, the angrier I become. I cross the room to Ella.
“Do you know your mom’s phone number?” I ask.
She looks up slowly from the tablet, her brows raised in a perfect mimic of the way her mother looked at me. I don’t let her see the shudder that moves up my spine.
“I’m eight,” she says.
I was pretty close in my estimate. “Okay. You’re eight,” I say with