Chapter 4

Hailey

Panting and slick with sweat, I push open the door to the apartment, ready for a cool shower and some breakfast. Silence hits me as I enter—no sports playing on the television, no clatter of dishes. It’s been like this for a week, and for a while, it was a welcome relief. But this time, something feels different. A shiver runs down my spine as my gaze sweeps over the empty space where Franklin’s stereo once sat. My chest tightens. Where is his stuff? And why?

Rent looms in my mind—due in three days—and suddenly, I’m drowning in dread.

I rush down the hall. The closet is empty. There’s nothing that belongs to him in the bathroom, not even a toothbrush. It’s like he was never here.

“Franklin?” My call echoes unanswered. I check my phone, but there’s nothing. No note, text, or missed calls. He’s just…gone.

What am I going to do?

I thumb the screen frantically, pulling up Dana’s contact and tapping a message with shaking fingers.

Me: Franklin moved out. Didn’t say anything. Help.

I hit send before I can second-guess myself.

The reply comes as a call, and Dana’s voice is soothing even through my phone’s tinny speaker. “Breathe. It’s going to be okay,” she assures me. “Let’s grab lunch, my treat. Coal Harbor Cactus Club?”

“I shouldn’t—”

“Yes, you should. I’ll expense it to Tate. I promise it will be okay.”

Tate Rutherford is her boss, and he’s pretty easygoing.

“Okay,” I say, though I feel far from it. “Just need to shower. And dress.”

“I’ll meet you in an hour.”

I hang up and drop the phone on the counter, letting out a long breath. One foot in front of the other, I force myself to the bathroom, peeling off my damp running clothes along the way. The hot water scalds my skin in the best way, washing off the sweat and maybe a bit of the shock. I scrub my face fiercely, trying to erase the morning’s events.

Once done, I twist my hair up into a messy bun that sits lopsided atop my head. It’s not chic, but it’ll do. I pull on jeans and a soft sweater, hoping comfort can somehow translate to confidence—or at least the appearance of it.

The bus ride to Coal Harbor is a blur. My thoughts ricochet between Franklin’s disappearance and the impending rent. I stare out the window, unseeing, until the bus hisses to a stop and jolts me back to reality.

Stepping into the Cactus Club, I scan for Dana, my heart skipping when I spot her waving from a booth. There’s a baby in her arms.

“Who is this cutie?” I ask as I slide into the seat across from them.

Dana smiles. “Meet Addison, my stepbrother’s daughter. Her mom kinda…left her with him. Long story.”

Addison gurgles happily before yawning wide, her eyelids fluttering closed as she succumbs to sleep. Dana slides her expertly into her car seat. Despite the chaos of my morning, I have to smile at this baby’s peaceful face. Maybe that innocence and joy are precisely what I need right now.

We order our usual—mixed greens with dried fruit, goat cheese, and chicken with a raspberry vinaigrette. But when the salads arrive, I pick at mine, the greens limp against the fork. My appetite has taken flight, much like Franklin did with all his belongings. Dana listens, concern present in her features as I recount the morning’s discovery.

“Franklin left the day we grabbed coffee at Steaming Mugs,” I finally confess. “We had an argument when I got home, and I haven’t seen him since. I thought he was going to come back, but then all his stuff was gone when I got back from my run today.”

Dana reaches across the table, covering my hand with hers. “You’re better off without him,” she says firmly. “You’ve got dreams bigger than what he could offer—like our European adventure and finding something…meaningful.”

Her words are meant to be comforting, but they pry open the box of doubts I’ve kept sealed tight. “He told me he loved me. I don’t know why I stayed so long,” I mutter, avoiding her gaze. “He always made it clear he wanted someone more…fit. Not someone like me.”

“Stop that,” Dana chides gently. “You’re perfect the way you are. You’ve got curves most women envy. You’re like Marilyn Monroe. Fuck him. You deserve someone who loves you for you, someone who doesn’t make you feel like you have to change.”

Tears pool in my eyes, blurring the vibrant colors of the restaurant. I blink hard, but they overflow. “I can’t find a job, and I don’t even have the money for rent now,” I choke out between sobs. “I’ve got nowhere to go.”

“I can help you,” she offers.

I shake my head. She still doesn’t have the whole story. I take a deep breath and tell her about the credit card bills, Franklin disappearing at night, the empty fridge, and how I have nowhere to go when I am evicted.

“You’re not alone.” Dana squeezes my hand again, her thumb stroking soothing circles on my skin. “What do you want to do for work?”

The question stirs a whirlpool of thoughts and fears, leaving me unable to form coherent words. All I can manage is a helpless shake of my head, an admission of my utter cluelessness.

I’m staring at my salad, feeling every ounce of the world’s weight on my shoulders when Dana reaches across the table, her eyes earnest and caring. “I can loan you the money for rent this month,” she offers.

A tiny spark of hope flickers in my chest before guilt douses it. Dana isn’t swimming in cash either, and we’re both saving for our trip.

“I can’t. That could ruin our friendship.” My voice is barely a whisper.

“No, it won’t. This way you can give notice about moving out, and if you haven’t found a job by next month, you can sleep on my couch until you’re back on your feet.” She leans over as Addison fusses in her car seat. With motherly grace, Dana lifts the little bundle, who immediately snuggles into her shoulder, making contented baby noises.

“Addison rarely cries,” Dana notes, bouncing her gently. “She’s such a happy baby.”

As if on cue, Addison turns her head, grinning at me with drool-coated gums. My heart does a strange flip-flop, a smile spreading across my face despite the turmoil inside.

This baby belongs to Dana’s stepbrother, Christian—all towering height, sandy hair with just the right amount of wave, and an easy smile. I met him once, and the image of his broad shoulders filling a doorway is seared into my brain. He’s the kind of hot that disrupts a girl’s thought process.

“Actually, there might be a job for you,” Dana says, tilting her head as Addison shifts position. “Would you consider being Addison’s nanny?”

“Me? A nanny?” I stammer, taken aback. The idea is ludicrous, and yet… The image of Christian crosses my mind again, and I force it away, afraid of where my lady bits want it to lead. That would be bad. No. I can’t.

“Think about it. You’d have room and board included, and you could save up for our European trip next year.”

Addison has wriggled her tiny hand out of her blanket and is reaching for my finger, her touch feather-light. Despite myself, I’m charmed, playing peekaboo with her until she giggles, and laughter bubbles up from within me for the first time in days. “I don’t know anything about kids,” I protest. “I was raised by my grandmother, and I’m an only child. I didn’t even babysit as a teenager.”

“Maybe just for a year?” Dana presses. “It’ll give you some financial stability, and you can give notice to your landlord and still have a good reference when you need it.”

“Reference?” I echo, my brain trying to juggle the numbers, the possibilities.

“Yes, I’ll cover this month’s rent,” Dana reminds me. “That way, you can try nannying without giving up your security deposit.”

“What is Christian going to say? I think this is a bad idea.”

“Look, I didn’t grow up with brothers and sisters, and I do just fine. Plus, you were a lifeguard. That’s practically babysitting.”

I sit back in my seat and chew on my lip, considering. There’s a warmth growing in my chest—gratitude, affection for the baby, and maybe a small sliver of excitement at the prospect of a fresh start. But uncertainty still lurks at the edges of my decision. I look back at Addison, her tiny fingers wrapped around mine. Could this be the safety net I need? “What happens if there’s an emergency?”

“You call nine-one-one. And I can always be your backup.”

“I don’t know how to change a diaper.”

Dana snorts. “It’s not that hard. Look, it doesn’t have to be your profession for the rest of your life. This is a chance to make some money and dig out of the debt your dickhead boyfriend put you in.”

I know she’s right, but I don’t have the first clue what a nanny does. When I started university, I was going to go into marketing. I thought maybe I’d work for a large company to get experience, and then run my own agency. But my grandmother got sick, and my world changed. Now, here I am with nothing—no boyfriend, no degree, no plan. I’m unemployed and drowning in debt with only my friend to hold my hand. And I’m going to live in someone else’s house and take care of a child?

Dana holds Addison’s head as she places her back into her car seat. Then she fills a bottle with two scoops of formula powder, shakes it, and holds it for Addison as she eats.

I can do that. And what do I have to lose? I twirl the stem of my water glass, watching the light play on the liquid’s surface. “I’ll try it,” I murmur.

“Really?” Dana’s eyebrows lift, a spark in her eyes.

“Really,” I confirm with a nod, even though my stomach knots with uncertainty. The thought of moving into Christian’s house—playing house, really—sends a shiver down my spine. “Are you sure he’s going to be okay with this?”

“His last nanny left him high and dry. He’s a little desperate, which is why I get to hang out with this cutie.”

Addison gurgles.

“As long as he’s okay with it…”

“He’ll be thrilled,” Dana says, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “This is perfect. It could be exactly what you both need right now.”

“Maybe,” I concede. I take a deep breath, letting the reality settle in. A change of pace could be good. This could be my chance, at least temporarily. “Christian’s going to wonder what hit him,” I say, trying to mask the tremble of nerves behind humor.

Dana laughs. “Once he sees how good you are with her…” She trails off, giving me a knowing look.

“Right,” I reply, not fully convinced. But for Addison’s sake—and my own fragile peace of mind—I have to believe this could work out. I finish my water and set the glass down with resolve. There’s no turning back now. I’ll be stepping into a new world, one with baby giggles and diaper changes—and a towering, distractingly attractive boss.

“Let’s do this,” I finally say. “Tell me everything I need to know about her.”