Chapter 25

Victoria

Going backto normal life after spending the night with Hayden is more difficult than I expected. It's not helped by the fact that Erin is tired and moody, either. But this isn't the first time she's come home from a sleepover this way, so part of it is the jarring change from relaxation and no responsibilities to being in charge of everything again.

"It might be a while before I agree to another sleepover if this is what I get when you come home," I tell Erin as we walk back into the house after the whine-fest she treated me to on the way back from her friend's house. "Were you this whiny while you were there?"

She crosses her arms, her face the perfect picture of a preteen pout, complete with a "Hmpf!" of annoyance.

I raise my eyebrows, letting her know I expect more of an answer than that.

Dropping her arms, she seems to collapse on herself as she groans, using her whole body to express her displeasure. "Ugh, Mom! No! I'm not whiny!"

My lips move to the side, then I roll them between my teeth to fight off the smile at the vehement denial of what she's currently doing. "Uh-huh. Right. Why don't you go put your things away and take a shower. Then you can have something to eat."

With another "hmpf!" she snatches the pillow and backpack from the spot just inside the front door where she'd dumped them. "I don't want a shower!"

"Well, too bad. You need one." And I need you to take one so I can get a few minutes of peace. Plus, since she was a baby, taking a bath—or now, a shower—has done wonders to improve her mood. Fingers crossed it works today too.

She goes, muttering to herself the whole way. I stand in the kitchen, and once I hear the shower running, I let out a sigh and sink into a chair at the kitchen table. Last night was great, and I'd even venture to say worth today's frustrations, but I don't know if or when it'll be possible again, and after picking up Erin, I'm not sure how sad I really am about that.

I mean, selfishly, yes, I'm sad about it. Part of me wishes I could get that kind of night on a regular basis. Camille, the mom of one of Erin's classmates, is divorced, and I know she's dating. But it's easier because her kids go to their dad's on the weekends, so she has free time to actually date.

Me? Not so much.

The last time I heard from Erin's dad was two years ago when he sent a birthday card and then called asking if he could see her. Of course, he didn't bother to show up and follow through with the offer, and it only confirmed that I was right not to get her hopes up.

Even if he showed up tomorrow and actually followed through on any of his promised visits, it would be years before I'd trust him to spend time alone with her, much less an overnight or a whole weekend.

Sometimes I hear co-parenting horror stories from newly divorced parents, and I'm grateful that I don't have to worry about that. But then other times, like with Camille, I think it would be so nice to have another parent to help out.

My parents are great. They help a lot, and I'm so grateful I have them around, but it's not the same.

A few minutes later, Erin comes out dressed in joggers and a T-shirt, her hair wet from the shower. Without a word, she comes up to me and gives me a hug. Silently, I hold her, breathing deeply.

When we separate, she sits in her spot at the table and starts telling me all about her sleepover, her earlier bad attitude forgotten. Showers for the win.

HM

I miss you

When can I see you again?

What are the odds we'll get another night together at some point?

I don't have time to respond to Hayden's messages until after getting Erin to bed that night.

Settling into my own bed, a smile creeps over my face as I read and reread his messages.

I miss you too. But I don't know the answer to your other questions

Will you be on set tomorrow?

Yes

Good. We'll make time then.

Warmth curls in my belly at his self-assurance. Being desired like this is unfamiliar, and I'm enjoying it more than I feel like I have the right to.

But I can't see the harm as long as I still manage to get everything done. And so far, that hasn't been a problem.

"What do you mean you need to leave early every day next week?"

I do my best not to wince at the annoyed snap in Dr. Banks's voice. I know he knows about the filming schedule next week because he and his wife both auditioned for small parts they were casting with locals. Based on this reaction, though, I'm guessing neither of them were chosen, and of course, they're above being part of the crowd of extras being used this coming week, which is why they need me on set more. I'm sure the reminder that he wasn't chosen to participate in the movie—and to make it worse, I was, even if I'm not appearing on screen—makes his attitude even worse.

I hate when he gets like this, though. He makes me feel like a misbehaving child. Forcing a deep breath, I do my best to infuse calm into my voice. "Dr. Banks, we talked about this when I took on the costuming for the movie filming in the area. We discussed then that I would need some flexibility with my schedule, and you assured me it would be fine. Because we've known about this for some time, no appointments have been scheduled during times I'm unavailable."

"The appointments were moved, you mean." He sits behind the desk in his office, all imposing mahogany flanked by bookcases bearing texts on dentistry and periodontics.

I nod my concession. "Yes, a few patients needed to be moved. But we were able to accommodate them all at times that work for their schedules."

"And how many more patients will have to be moved to accommodate your choices?" His eyes flash as he stares at me over the rim of his glasses.

I pause, gathering my patience once more. "Again, you agreed to work with me when I took on the costuming project. It is temporary. There are only a few scenes where they need costumes for a lot of extras, and those are filming this week. They need me on hand to help with costume selection and any last-second repairs that always come up with so many people needing to be dressed."

He shuffles papers around and grumbles to himself before waving me away.

I manage to hold back my eye roll until after I've left his office, and then I head to the front to gather my things and leave.

Anna gives me an anxious once-over from the front desk. "You okay?"

With a rueful smile, I nod. I like Anna. She's sweet, even if she keeps to herself a lot. Brit and I used to try inviting her out with us after work, but she almost always declined, and eventually, we stopped asking. Maybe we should try again, though. I feel like she needs to break out of her shell—though I'm a great one to talk. With a sigh, I wave away Dr. Banks's attitude. "You know how Dr. Banks is. He doesn't like when anything deviates from the normal plan."

She chuckles. "You don't have to tell me. But he's just his usual grumpy self, though, right? He's not threatening to fire you or anything?" Her brows pinch together, her brown eyes full of concern behind her glasses.

"Oh, no. He wouldn't do that. He'd have a hard time replacing me, and he knows it. For all his bluster and frustration, he's not the type to make his own life more difficult on purpose."

Another soft chuckle from Anna. "That's true. Good point. Well, I'm glad he's just being annoying and not actually awful."

"I better go. I promised Erin I'd spend the evening with her to make up for the fact that I'll barely see her next week."

Anna shakes her head. "I don't know how you manage."

"One day at a time," I quip, waving as I head outside. I pass it off as a joke, but especially right now, it's the truth.

Julius Caesaris about halfway through filming, and every day feels harder. On the one hand, I can't wait for this to be over. I can't help feeling like I bit off more than I could chew with being a working single mom with a normal full-time job and adding this on top of it. I haven't had time to work on any passion projects since the costuming gig started. It's all been alterations and repairs for over a month now, and it's starting to drain me.

I dreamed up a new idea for a dress over the weekend, and all I've had time to do is a rough sketch in the notebook where I store those ideas. It's got a chokehold on me, though, and it's begging to be drafted. I just don't have any time to do it.

Not to mention Erin's begging me for some new summer clothes. With school almost out and the weather warming up, she needs them. And while I don't have a problem with buying her clothes, she likes that I make her at least one cool outfit per season.

She's due, and I have no time to make it happen.

And then there's Hayden …

Fitting a whole relationship into cracks of time is a lot harder than I expected. Finding time without letting any other priorities slip is rough. And I can tell he chafes at the fact that I don't want anyone to know about us. He's mentioned once or twice that it might be easier if we let a couple people in on the secret, and he's stopped himself from suggesting it even more times because he knows what my answer will be—absolutely not.

It's too great a risk. If anyone else knows, the chances of everyone else knowing soon go up exponentially, and I'm not willing to deal with that.

And there's also the reality that this will all be over soon. The last few weeks have vanished in a blink. Even if filming runs long—which Hayden has assured me is likely more than once, though right now they're ahead of schedule—he has maybe six more weeks here, tops.

Our already limited time together is even more hemmed in by the fact that it can't last much longer. Which is good and bad. Given the stress of having a secret relationship with a movie star, I don't know how much longer I could last if this had no definite end date.

But the thought of letting him go hurts already.

I'm not sure if this is normal or if I'm just not built for short-term relationships. I just know that I like him a lot more than I thought I would, and it's more than just the physical attraction—though there's plenty of that to go around too. But he's sweet. Kind. Caring. Wanting to do what he can to help me relax in the little bits of time we get together and take my mind off the constant stresses of my life. He lets me vent about my frustrations with work and Erin's school, offering space and a listening ear free of judgment or the well-meaning but ultimately unhelpful advice I get from everyone else.

He's become a soft place to land, and once he's gone, I'll feel bereft.

But there isn't time to dwell on all that right now. It's time to pick up Erin, take her out to dinner, and be her soft place to land. Because that's my most important job.