Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“You can stop that incessant smiling,” Callie says. “Paying a gas bill isn’t fun.”
“It kind of is to me.”
“Says the nanny with a load of savings.”
Because of my complete fixation on the inevitability of stormy skies ahead, I have a comfortable safety net. Especially as Dylan and Eddie are both refusing to take my money and Eddie is insisting I take the scholarship money she got from the university. I still have to work, but Callie is right—I don’t have to worry about this month’s gas bill.
“Let’s have some wine,” Callie says. “I can’t face unpacking any of this without alcohol.”
We scurry about, hunting down Callie’s wine glasses and corkscrew—there’s so much I don’t own that most people do at my age. It’s a good job I have a flatmate who’s done this living-on-her-own thing. We flop on the sofa that I used to sleep on before I moved in to Dax and Guinevere’s place.
“Cheers,” Callie says.
We clink glasses.
“Flatmates,” she says. “Have you spoken to the agency?”
“Yeah. I’m going to do some temporary work.”
“What, like maternity nursing?”
I shake my head. “Definitely not.” It’s hard to say no maternity nursing when the money is so good, but to earn it, you work around the clock.
“Good. Because that requires you giving yourself up for weeks at a time.”
“Exactly. It’s not what I want for myself.”
A smile unfurls on Callie’s face. “I’m so proud of you. I thought you were always going to be the girl who worked relentlessly for your employer and Dylan and Eddie. It’s nice to see you thinking about yourself. For once.”
“It still doesn’t feel natural—”
I don’t get to finish my sentence because Callie starts screaming. She spills wine as she leaps on the sofa.
“It’s a fucking rat! Did you see that?”
I put my wine down on the floor and stand. “Where?”
She points at the floorboard over by the old sash window. “There. It went behind the box.”
I creep forward. “Are you sure?” I ask. “You might just be dehydrated.”
“You think I’m hallucinating because I haven’t had enough Evian?” she asks. “I saw a bloody rat.”
I peer behind the boxes stacked up in front of the curtain, but I can’t see anything. I pull out my phone and put on the torch. “There’s nothing here. Maybe it was your ex-boyfriend,” I say. “He’s a good enough reason to call the rat catcher.” I abandon my investigations and head back to the sofa.
“I think outside of nursery rhymes, they call it pest control.”
“I’ll call them tomorrow,” I say. “While you’re at work.”
“So, we just let the rats roam today?”
“We live in London. I heard you’re never more than a meter away from a rat at any time.”
I get a cushion in my face. “You’re not helping.”
“It’s going to be fine.” I learned that lesson before I realized I had. Eddie was right; I can figure out most things, and that makes me powerful as fuck. “At least they’re our rats.”
“We don’t own this place, you know. We’re renting.”
“Okay, so the rats are on loan until we move out.”
“I don’t want them.”
“So I’ll have them. You’ll come home tomorrow and I’ll have trained an entire family of rodents to fold laundry and unpack boxes.” I shrug. “You never know, I might take that show on the road and make millions.”
“How much wine have you had?” she asks.
I ignore her question. “I feel free. Like I could do anything. I don’t have to be a nanny anymore if I don’t want to be.”
“Do you want to be?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “I don’t know if it’s what I truly want to do. I think I need to try some other stuff as well. Maybe I’ll take a night class. The idea of finishing at six and leaving the place I work is…”
“Let me tell you,” Callie says. “It feels fucking fantastic. It’s not healthy to live where you work. You’re going to love it so much. Even with the rats.”
“I am.” Moving out of Dax and Guinevere’s was definitely the right thing to do, but it doesn’t mean I don’t miss them. I do. Every day.
It’s been two weeks and I go to bed every night thinking about them both. About how much Guinevere will have changed since I last saw her, whether she’d remember me now and if she smells the same. About how Dax’s skin felt against mine, the hard smoothness of it. The comfort. The strength. How protected I felt by him.
I wake up every morning and think about how he cared for me while I was sick. Drove ten hours to bring me home. Pulled my hair back when I vomited. He’s a caring, kind man. I’m sure Callie thinks I’m a fool to take a step back, but I need to be sure I don’t want him because he needs me. I need to know I want him…just because.