by Sarah Cole
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and wipe away the sweat that has started to collect on my forehead, in the smothering humidity.
“But can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.” I say.
“Why? Why here? You givin’ up all that glitz and glamour for Stockbridge, Georgia just doesn’t seem to make much sense to me.” She says, resting her hands on her hips. Everything about her body language tells me she isn’t going to accept a fluff answer here.
“My life is a circus. It has been since the day my father signed our lives away on a dotted line, and paraded us in front of the world. I needed out, but he wouldn’t listen. I felt like I was throwing myself against the bars of a metal cage while the world just watched and laughed at what a fool I was.” I confess.
I’m certain that in the handful of minutes I speak, I spill my soul to Irene Campbell. And she listens to every single bit of it as I let it all out. She soaks up every word about how pretty much my entire life including my hair and my name are fake, I have exactly two true friends, the world thinks I’m a joke, and I want to teach and have a family someday. I explain to her that even my family has changed over the years.
My father, while he’s always been a shrewd business man and a somewhat absent fixture in our lives, due to his work, has become even more unfeeling. What you see on TV is certainly not what you get. My older brother Logan is – hard to describe. Don’t get me wrong. I love my siblings fiercely, but it has been a long time since we’ve been on the same page. My younger sister Meredith is basically just a self-absorbed, spoiled, Hollywood kid, but Logan is complex.
It’s like I see bits and pieces of the boy that helped me learn how to ride a bike; the one that used to push me on the tire swing in Nana’s front yard, but he’s fake. He tries to fool me with it, but it doesn’t work. It’s like he forgets that I’ve been his shadow pretty much our entire lives. I don’t know what happened to him. After Mom died and what little relationship we had with our father deteriorated into nothing, he flipped a switch and went from zero to asshole in two seconds flat. He’s overly cocky and a complete control freak, which has suited him well in business, but not when it comes to fostering lasting relationships with anyone. Or it could be the fact that he’s a complete womanizer… that’s probably it. Still, I know even through all that he cares and would help me in an instant. I know because he has texted and called everyday just to make sure I’m alright, even though he has no idea where I am. He’s my big brother after all, but it doesn’t change the fact even my family doesn’t feel like home any more.
I finish and Irene doesn’t say a word, but instead pulls me into a sweet perfumed hug. Only after I wrap my arms around her in return, do I realize how desperately I needed it. It feels motherly and it somehow fills a small void in me just knowing that someone knows me and understands my situation completely. I don’t like lying, but how can I tell the truth and still live the life I want to lead?
“Oh, sweet girl. I can’t say I know much about all that reality TV nonsense. Can’t see why I’d want to watch a bunch of people argue on TV when I can just go down to the Rec Center on Bingo night and see it in real life.” She laughs, and giggle of my own escapes from between my lips.
“I have seen that dancing show though, and I can say from the tabloid headlines down at the grocery store, you have people looking for you. A lot of them, and they’re all speculating and curious about where you might have gone. You can’t just hide out here forever, Clara… I know you think you’re inconspicuous because it’s a small town, but sooner or later someone is going to figure out who the new girl is. Then what? I don’t think anyone in this town would do anything intentionally to out you, but people talk honey.”
I nervously pick at a hangnail, not willing to meet Irene’s eyes. I can feel her still giving me that ‘mom’ look. I don’t want to answer her because honestly, I don’t have a good answer. I suppose I hadn’t gotten that far yet.
“Hmm?” she prompts when I don’t respond.
“I honestly don’t know.” I exhale, “I know I need to issue a public statement, but I’m kind of aprehensive to do that. And since I’m still technically under contract with my father’s company and a network, I could get slapped with some hefty lawsuits so I’m just kind of waiting to see what my Dad is going to do.”
She offers me a sympathetic smile, “As long as you don’t wait too long, sweetie. These kinds of secrets have a way of coming back to bite you in the rear. Plus, I think Flynn deserves to know soon too since you are going to be caring for his daughter. I’m sure he’ll understand if you just tell him exactly what you just told me. If I do remember, he was pretty enamored with your brother growing up.”
I nod as I rack my brain trying to remember Flynn as a boy. Only vague memories surface of a boy with blonde, shaggy hair, playing football with my brother. Irene turns to her car, leaving my stomach churning with anxiety.
***
Wednesday morning comes quickly since I have been unpacking and getting my new home together. I pull on a pretty satin tank top and a pair of pencil legged slacks despite the heat outside. I’m not really sure about what I should wear for this new job. My nanny growing up always wore a uniform of sorts, and I’m assuming this will be more laid back but better safe than sorry. So, business casual it is. Looking in the bathroom mirror, I smile as a brush out my long dark hair. I can’t remember the last time I felt more like myself – who I am and not what the world wants to see, or what other people expect me to be. Long gone are my days of bleached hair, sprayed on tans, eyelash extensions, and diets of nothing besides raw foods. I’ve been enough things in my life – things that didn’t matter, but now it’s my time and I’m going to make it count.
I pull into the driveway of the beautiful white washed brick, plantation style home and marvel at it some more. It really is gorgeous, and the work that has been done to it inside and out is flawless. Better Homes & Gardens magazine would drool. As I make my way up the paved steps, I catch site of myself in the reflection of the front windows. My windblown appearance from driving with my windows down is less than stellar, and hastily I try to smooth my hair into a somewhat chic style. I’m not really sure who I’m trying to impress. Get real, Clara. You know exactly who you want to impress.
I tell my inner self to shut up and keep it together as I press the doorbell. Only seconds pass before the large wooden door opens to Flynn’s wide smile looking ten kinds of hot in a pair of worn jeans, a t-shirt, and an old Atlanta Braves hat.
“Right on time! Come on in.”
“Thanks.” I say nervously pulling at the hem of my top as I step over the threshold and into the open foyer. Suddenly I feel incredibly awkward and overdressed.
He leads me once again to his office, and I steal glances as I go at the small details like the boxes of unopened baby furniture and the comfortable, homey looking yet stylish furniture throughout. I would describe it as coastal chic with light grays and blues, natural fiber rugs, and pops of bright white and washed wood.
“I know that this isn’t really part of the job description, but I need your help.” He says sheepishly. We’ve gone over all the finer details of my employment and I’ve signed all the paperwork. I’m officially a nanny, and I couldn’t be more thrilled.
“Okay?”
“I’m lost. I’m having a daughter, and I have no idea what clothes to buy, how to decorate a little girls’ room, or some of the other things. I have the furniture and all the stuff they say you need online, but quite frankly I just don’t know. My Aunt and Uncle never had kids of their own, and I don’t have my Mom or any siblings or… shit.” He scratches his hands over his day old stubble, before pulling off his hat and rubbing his hand over his buzzed head. He rests his forehead in his hands, propping his elbows on the dark wooden desk. He looks completely and utterly drained, and my heart hurts for him, even though we’ve only just met.
I take this small break in eye contact to reall
y just stare at him. The way the t-shirt pulls across his muscular frame, the strong, tanned hands from days working outside, his closely clipped hair. Normally I like a longer style on a guy, but there’s just something so incredibly manly and sexy about his hair that I love. Shit… shut it down Clara. I can honestly say, I’ve never had such a blatant attraction for a man before. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve never let my guard down, or if I was just simply too busy to stop and care. Maybe that is why I can’t help myself and I reach out to touch his arm in hopes that it will provide him small measure of comfort. Before I can even blink, his head snaps to attention, he pulls a maneuver and has my wrist locked firmly in his grasp and pinned to the desktop.
“Flynn!” I let out a shocked gasp as I call his name. His eyes go wide in shock and he immediately releases my wrist and shoots out from behind the desk and rushes to my side.
“Clara! I’m so fucking sorry. You just caught me off guard, angel. Let me see it.” His eyes are filled with genuine concern as he reaches out with shaking fingers to take my wrists in his warm hands. A shiver runs up my arm at his tender touch as he inspects the red finger marks marring the skin of my wrist. I don’t think it will bruise, but he’s acting like he ripped my arm off.
“I’m so sorry, Flynn. I didn’t mean to…” I start before he interrupts me.
“Don’t you dare apologize to me. You did nothing wrong.” He says standing abruptly, strolling out of the room where I’m left to wonder what in the hell just happened.
6
FLYNN:
I run to the freezer in search of an icepack, but the best I can find is a bag of frozen corn. It will have to do. What in the ever-living hell possessed me to snap like that? One second I was thinking about how in so many ways being in a war was easier than trying to figure out this day to day bullshit alone. I got lost in my own head for one single second, and I hurt someone. I hurt her-my angel. That’s what first pops into my head when I think about her. I realize I don’t know her; not really, but I can’t help this undeniable pull she has on me. Last week when she showed up, I was so incredibly taken with her that even Irene gave me a hard time about it. I haven’t been able to push her out of my thoughts since. She has this light and glow about her. She’s sweet and soft, and everything that I’m not. And I left a mark on her. This is why it is so damn hard for me to sit still; why I never let myself relax. If I let my guard down for one second, it could happen again. I know I’m still acclimating to civilian life, or at least that’s what they said in debriefing and down at the VA. I just need more time after being gone for so long and seeing the things I saw – doing the things I did. When you’ve stopped as many beating hearts as I have, you don’t get to forget so easily. That’s all I want to do…forget.
I rush back into the office where Clara still sits in the chair facing my desk. Her dark, shiny hair falls in a long curtain around her face as she stares at her lap.
I know I don’t have any right to touch her – not only because of what just happened, but she’s my employee and I need her to do the job I hired her to do. I can’t afford her running off because I crossed a line. I need her in so many ways that I can’t even comprehend yet, and I don’t’ want her in a platonic way. It’s raw and primal the way I crave her. However, my internal struggle doesn’t stop me from taking my fingers and brushing her hair behind her ear as I kneel down in front of her once again, gently placing the frozen bag on her reddened wrist.
“Clara…”
When I say her name, her brown eyes raise to meet mine. I don’t expect the heat I see simmering there under the surface. I don’t expect the way her lips part and the unsure way in which she draws her next breath, or the way her soft hand tentatively reaches out to cover mine that still lays across her other wrist.
She wets her lips out of habit, and immediately I want to taste those lips. I want to drink her in and consume her like the deprived man I am. Is she as sweet as she lets on, or is there a little devil lurking inside this angel of mine just waiting to catch fire? I’m willing to bet she’s all angel, but the thing about angels is that no one expects them to send your whole world up in flames. And that’s exactly what I feel like she’s doing to me. Everything I thought I knew about wanting someone before her is being burned to the ground and leaving only this feeling in my chest behind.
I can want her all day and night, but I can’t let this go too far even though I see the same heat I feel reflected back at me through her eyes. So, reluctantly and with more self-control than I knew I was capable of, I stand, putting distance between us and sit in my own chair on the other side of the desk. I watch her shift nervously, and cross her legs in her seat trying to find relief and internally my inner cave man beats his chest knowing I have an effect on her.
“So, like I was saying before…” I pause to see if I have her attention. “I need some help picking out some clothes, nursery stuff… girly stuff. I honestly have no idea what to get. Do you think you could help me out?” I ask.
Her face lights up, and I sigh an internal sigh of relief.
“When do you want to do that? My schedule is wide open!” she says excitedly, waving her hands around.
“Well, we could go now. I have crews scheduled out for today, and it’s supposed to rain later so they will probably wrap up early anyways.” It’s only a half lie. I’m going to have to call Irene and tell her to have the foreman for each site cover the plans for the afternoon.
“That’s fine.” She says, hesitating for a moment.
“What’s wrong?”
She bites her lip, and my attention is immediately drawn to their fullness. “Am I dressed alright? I mean, I’m kind of dressed up.”
I laugh. I don’t mean to, but she’s right. She’s dressed up for what we’re doing, but she looks pretty. “Angel, you look perfect, but if you’re more comfortable in something else, I can stop you by home to change.”
Clara cocks her head to the side, “Why do you keep calling me angel?”
Busted. “Uh, I’m sorry- I didn’t realize I was. I just started referring to you as that in my head.” I’m well aware how creepy that might sound, but it’s the truth. I can’t help it.
“Why?” she asks softly, a slight smirk pulling at the corners of her lips.
I smile back, “Ah that’s my secret, but I’ll stop. I’m sorry.”
“No!” she protests quickly. “I’ve never really had a nickname. Well, at least not one I’ve liked before. It’s fine, really.”
We both smile stupidly at each other for a few moments, and the realization hits me that I’m flirting with her like a friggin’ fifteen-year-old boy instead of a thirty-one-year-old man.
“I actually would like to change, if you don’t mind.” She changes the subject again, nearly giving me whiplash.
“Not a problem.” I wink.
***
I wait in her living room as she changes clothes upstairs. She decorated the place just how I’d envisioned it. Classic, traditional pieces in shades of white and gray with dark wood to match the flooring. I see pops of light pink throughout, and it’s sweet and comforting, just like her. I decide to take a look around, and walk over to the console table where she has photos in matching silver frames. As I look, I notice that Clara’s hair is nearly platinum blonde in all the pictures, and she’s wearing a lot more than her typically natural makeup. I much prefer the natural version of her; not that she isn’t smokin’ hot as a blonde, but this version of her is real. The other thing I notice is she and the people in the pictures look incredibly familiar to me, but I’m not sure where from. I pick up the picture of her with a good-looking guy around our age with dark hair, and a younger girl that is the spitting image of Clara just with blue eyes and a lighter shade of brown hair. There’s this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I know them from somewhere.
I hear the sound of her feet coming down the stairs, and I quickly set the picture down. She sees where I’m at and her brow knits in a frown
, looking between me and the pictures.
“You all set?” I ask, and she recovers quickly.
I take in her frayed jean shorts, white converse, long sleeved tee with her hair pulled into a long ponytail underneath a baseball cap. Perfection.
“Much better.” I say after assessing her, and I playfully swat the bill of her hat.
“Certainly feels a lot better.” She laughs lightly.
“You know you don’t have to dress up for me or the job, right? You can wear whatever you want- whatever is comfortable to you.”
She exhales in over exaggerated relief, and I laugh.
I follow her out the front door, and she stops to pick up a piece of paper laying on her doormat. She unfolds it, her eyes scanning over the written words, widen as she looks around, but she quickly crumples the paper in her hand and tosses it in the trash bin as we walk to my truck. I open the door for her and help her up into the tall cab, not being able to stop myself from staring at her tight ass in those short shorts. I have to adjust myself as I walk around back to the driver’s side so she doesn’t spot my obvious attraction to her.
“So, are you going to tell me what that was about?” I ask.
She hesitates, “Just a neighbor. Welcoming me to the neighborhood.” She stares out the window as I back out of her driveway and pull onto the street.
“If you say so.” I reply because I know she’s lying. I saw the look on her face, but I’ll let it go...for now. Clearly, it’s none of my business.
CLARA:
This is so much fun! Well, it would be fun if that damn note wasn’t still on my mind. “I see you, Elizabeth.” That was all it said. Obviously, someone has figured out who I am, but how creepy is that? Trust me, I’ve been left creepy notes and things before, but it’s kind of a shock when you don’t expect it to happen. The hand-writing looked familiar though, but it couldn’t be… it’s been over five years, and I’m across the country. Chalking it up to an overactive imagination, I put the unwanted thoughts out of my mind and hold up a pretty lilac colored pajama set, with ruffles across the butt.