“I’m eight, not five. Of course I know my mom’s number.” She spits it out so fast that I have to have her repeat it, and she absolutely does not think I’m worth her time.
But I manage to dial the number and walk back to the office, closing the door before Eleanor picks up.
“Hello?” she says in a clipped tone. So maybe it’s not just me and she’s a jerk to everyone.
“This is Zoey. I’m the woman you left Ella with.”
She sighs and I can almost hear the eye roll that goes along with it. “Already having trouble? Just don’t take away her tablet and this will be super easy.”
That comment somehow slices right through me. I’ve said that it didn’t matter whether people had good or bad moms, I’d envy just having a mom. But that was perhaps short-sighted. This woman is a witch. How was Gavin married to her? Maybe my whole view of the man needs to change.
“I just have a few questions. What’s Ella’s bedtime? And where does she usually sleep when she comes to visit?”
Eleanor laughs, and I want to reach through the phone and punch her in her pretty face. “Oh, she’s never stayed there before.”
“Okay …”
“Ella hasn’t ever met her father.”
This sentence is like a math problem with the numbers and the variables, the kinds that never made sense to my brain. I see the pieces, but they don’t fit together.
“What?”
“Gavin has never met Ella. He actually didn’t know about her, so have fun with that little announcement.” She laughs again, and I begin to wonder if she is a sociopath.
My mouth is open. There are no words. Not one word for the bomb she just dropped. Gavin doesn’t know he has a daughter. They have never met. And Eleanor just dropped Ella off here like it was so casual with a man who is virtually a complete stranger. I have to wonder how he didn’t know he had a daughter.
My life today has become an episode of Maury Povich. I should have stayed at mini golf. Except there is something fiery and protective stirring in my chest. I want to save both Gavin and Ella from this woman. Harpy and her Disney villain face have nothing on Gavin’s ex-wife.
He didn’t know how right he was when he texted earlier. He did need me.
“And her bedtime is whenever. We travel so much that she doesn’t really have a set time. Probably before ten.”
I don’t know kids that well, but I know that ten o’clock is much too late for an eight-year-old. Isn’t it? But Eleanor has hung up, leaving me alone in a house with my feverish, passed-out boss and his new-to-him, surprise daughter.
A word of caution: never send that kind of picture, bumpy or otherwise, unless it’s to your actual physician.
And yes, based on that, please call a medical professional. Right now.
Sincerely,
Dr. Love
Chapter Twelve
Zoey
Ella stares at me. I stare at Ella.
I am not sure I’ve ever been more scared in my life. Because the reality is that if Ella doesn’t want to go to bed—and to be very clear, she doesn’t—I don’t know how to make her.
Physically, I am stronger. The fact that I just managed to get Gavin from the floor to his bed demonstrated that. I could manage this child who weighs a fraction of what he does.
But even though I didn’t babysit ever, I instinctively know that I can’t use physical force to get a little girl to sleep. I see the fire in her eyes. And more than that, I can imagine what it would be like to have your mother drop you in a strange house that belongs to a father you’ve never met who doesn’t know you. And now she has me.
And what am I, exactly? Gavin’s executive assistant who has crossed about a million boundaries tonight, leaving me as … what? Apparently, my new title is Gavin’s caretaker and his surprise daughter’s babysitter.
“I know this must be weird to sleep in a strange house,” I say.
Weird is one word for it. I have a few other words I would use for what her mother has done, but I’m definitely not using those in front of a child. But what kind of woman does this? I’m still reeling.