by J. Lea
“I love you more,” she whispers in a sleep-laden voice. “To the moon and back.”
“Good night.” I turn off the lights in her room. Leaving the door slightly ajar, I turn the hallway light on. Ava can’t sleep in complete darkness.
“Daddy,” she calls after me.
I stop, popping my head inside her room. “Yes, pumpkin?”
“One more kiss.”
I walk over to her bed, grinning like crazy, and plant a big kiss on her forehead.
“Have fun at work,” Ava yawns.
“I will. Now off to dreamland you go.”
Dolores is sitting on the living room couch with a book in her lap when I enter the room. She takes off her glasses when she sees me. “Is she asleep?”
“Not yet, but she’ll be out in a few minutes. Thanks for watching her. I know you’re tired.” I kiss her cheek. “How’s Carlos? What did the doctor say?”
“They did some additional tests. Looks good for now. His blood sugar is within normal levels, and his potassium is normal, too. He has another check-up on Thursday, and if everything’s fine then the next one won’t be for three months.” She smiles, relieved, and I can suddenly breathe easier.
“Great.” Best news in the last few days. “Oh, how did the job interviews go yesterday? I’m sorry for leaving you, but we had a health inspection at the club, and I had no choice but to go back.”
“It’s fine. You already go out of your way to help, more than I ever dared to hope.” Dolores sighs.
I wave my hand dismissively. “Bullshit. You and Carlos are my family. I’ll always be here if you need anything. Remember that. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to raise Ava without your help.”
I really don’t know what I would’ve done without Dolores, my mother-in-law. She is like the mother I’ve never had. She’s loved me from the day we met. I was an orphan, bouncing between foster homes until I turned eighteen, causing trouble all the time with no plans of settling down. I met Anabel at twenty-seven. Only when she introduced me to her family did I realize what true love really means. Two years later, Anabel and I welcomed Ava into the world. She showed me new dimensions of love and happiness.
“I had three more interviews after you left. They all seemed nice. I hope I didn’t scare any of them away; I’m really not good at these sorts of things.”
“I’m sure you were great. Did any of them stand out to you? The candidates I got to meet before I left are out of the question.” Some didn’t have any experience in healthcare, and some were too old for the job. Two of them barely managed to remain on their feet, none of them would be able to lift Carlos off the bed or help him in the shower. The rest … Well, they simply lacked the empathy, devotion to the job.
“Wait, I made some notes.” She finds the notebook and opens it. “I liked her the most,” she says and points to a name.
“Everly Johnson,” I read the name out loud.
“Her recommendations are stellar, and she has all the skills I’m looking for,” Dolores says. I grab Ms. Johnson’s resume and skim through it while she continues. “As we talked, I got the impression she was a genuine person who loves what she does. I know the difference between someone saying they love their job, and someone showing their love for their profession. I felt a lot of passion coming from her. She’s the one,” she says with determination.
“Then tell her. Offer her the job.”
“I will. I’m going to call her tomorrow. And I’m pretty certain you’re going to love her, too. She’s really sweet.”
“I trust your judgment.” I nod. “I have to go now, I’ll be back late, so don’t wait up, okay?”
“Drive safely.” She leans back on the couch, opening her book.
“Always,” I reassure her and head out the door.
It’s a little past 9 PM when I park my car at the nightclub and bar called Mi Vida. The parking lot is bursting at the seams. The bouncer nods his chin at me in greeting while I step inside to examine the situation. The bar is so crowded the bartenders are barely keeping up with the orders, but luckily, people don’t seem to mind, chatting, dancing, and laughing while they’re waiting for their turn. Walking through the crowd, I try to find Phoenix, my best friend and business partner. Since he’s nowhere to be seen, I head to our office and try my luck there.
Phoenix looks up from the large mahogany desk when I open the office door. “What’s up?”
“Hey, man. It seems we have another full house tonight.” Sitting down on the sofa, I rest my ankle over my knee, my arm on the rest.
“Yeah, fucking awesome. It’s like our dreams are coming true.” He leans back in his chair casually, placing his hands behind his head. Papers are scattered around the desk, a half-empty coffee cup beside Phoenix. His laptop is open, a picture of a naked woman as wallpaper.
“True, but we’re short-staffed.” I’ve already heard some patrons complain the service is too slow.
“We could hire a bartender or two. That would solve our problems. By the way, did you hire a nurse already?” He knows about Carlos’s worsening condition, and that we’re looking for some extra help.
“Caregiver,” I correct him.
“Pft”—he shakes his hand dismissively—“one and the same. Is she going to wear a uniform? The naughty one?” He wiggles his brows. “You know I have a thing for women in uniforms.”
“I can imagine the thrill on some middle-aged woman’s face if she’d be forced to squeeze in a naughty nurse Halloween costume for this job.” Chuckling, I shake my head.
“Oh, man, did you have to ruin my fantasy?”
I throw my head back, laughing out loud. “Sorry, man, that wasn’t my intention. Your fantasies will have to wait. But yeah, Dolores says she found the right one. Hopefully she can start by the end of the week.”
“Good for her. Now let’s talk about the theme nights we discussed the other day.” He’s back to business. “I have a few ideas.”
“Let’s hear them.” We’ve been brainstorming ideas for exciting events and novelties that would keep people at the club and draw new ones, especially now that competition is breathing down our necks.
“I was thinking—and don’t say no just yet. Think about it.”
“What?” I furrow my brows. Usually, when he starts a sentence like this I know I’m not going to like it.
“You could play a few songs on Fridays, how does that sound? Your guitar must be covered in cobwebs from lack of use.”
I almost choke on my saliva. “Hell no.” Standing up, I pull at my hair, dismissing the idea immediately; my stage days are long over. “What’s wrong with those bands we were talking about the other day? There are bunch of unknown performers who would love to shine on stage. Let’s give them a chance,” I suggest instead.
“That could work, too. Or Gentlemen’s Night with go-go dancers, and Ladies’ night with shirtless male bartenders? We’d get to serve signature cocktails reflecting the theme of the evening,” Phoenix proposes.
“I see potential here. We need something epic for Saturday nights, too, but for now, this should keep us busy. Now, let’s get to work, partner,” I say, fist bumping Phoenix.
“Oh, before you disappear on me—when is Dana stopping by?” Dana is my friend and our accountant. He doesn’t like her. He’d be happier if he didn’t have to see her at all.
“She said she’ll swing by first thing in the morning to pick up the papers.”
“I don’t even know why I asked, she’s constantly here anyway.” Phoenix rolls his eyes. “So, should I put out a job ad for four male bartenders and three go-go dancers then?”
“Sure, that should be enough for now,” I agree. “I’ll go check the inventory and place some orders tomorrow. You do the job interviews.”
I t’s been three days since my job interview. Mrs. Ruiz called me today and said the job is mine if I still want it. I wasn’t expecting to get the position. At this point in my life I’m way too familiar with rejection. In the last few
years I’ve applied for countless positions, desperate enough to take on any job that came my way. I sent out resumes for jobs waitressing, administration, customer service, even cleaning, but mostly for any position of a caregiver since nursing is my profession, and I have plenty of experience. I didn’t forget Mrs. Ruiz asked me whether I’d be willing to move in with them. After lots of consideration I’ve come to realize it would be the best decision. And on the plus side, I wouldn’t have to deal with all the fuss that comes along with finding a new apartment. So I accepted the offer. I finally have a job and I’m moving to Tampa.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” says Amber, my best friend and roommate for the last five years, as she holds me in her arms. “Who’s gonna bake me cupcakes now that you’ll be gone?”
“Oh, come on. It’s not like I’m leaving forever. I’m just moving a few towns over. We’re still going to talk every day and see each other often.” I zip up the suitcase containing my shoes and accessories.
“You sure that’s what you want? You can still change your mind, you know.” She plops down on my bed, determined to change my mind.
“Positive. You know I need this job. I’ve been unemployed forever. I can’t live in your apartment rent free for the rest of my life.” Even though I know she would let me in a heartbeat.
“You could get a job at Spicy Betty. The pay is great and you know how old Hank loves you. You’d live like a queen.”
I snort. “Thanks, but stripping’s not my dream job, not anywhere close.” I don’t have the confidence, nor body, to work those poles.
Amber’s been working at the local strip club for the last five years. She makes lots of money taking her clothes off every night, plus the guests love her. Ever since I lost my last job and couldn’t get a new one, she’s been nagging me to come work with her and give stripping a try, but my answer’s always been a firm no. The caregiver position came at the perfect time; I owe Amber a hefty sum of money, and now I’m finally going to be able to start paying her back.
“Who am I going to binge-watch Friends with on a Friday afternoon?” She sticks her bottom lip out, pouting like a small child. “And eat junk food at eleven at night?”
“I’ll be only two hours away, I’m pretty sure we’ll still manage to watch an episode or two together.”
“But it’s not going to be the same,” she whines. “The apartment’s going to be so empty without you. And messy.”
That’s true. She’s not really a cleaner, in fact, she hates cleaning, and I don’t really mind it. It’s a must, if you ask me. We are total opposites. Where she is the party girl, I’m more of a laid-back, relax at home kind of girl. She loves attention, I hate it. I could go on with our differences, but you get the point.
“I know. But we’ll still hang out, and catching up will be so much more fun.”
She hugs me one last time, holding me tighter for a while. “Promise to call every day, and if something’s wrong let me know immediately. I’ll send out the troops to help, or I can come and kick their asses myself. My door is always open, you can return any time you want, you know that, right?”
I smile at her protective side. “What could possibly go wrong? Besides, you won’t even have time to miss me, chasing men around town.”
“Well, if you put it like that …” Her eyes sparkle. “I can do sex marathons instead of movie marathons on Fridays. Sounds heavenly.”
“You’re crazy.” I laugh.
Amber and I have known each other for what seems like an eternity. She’s one of the few people who knows almost everything about me. We’ve met at university, and she’s been my rock ever since. She’s a really good friend and person, even though to the outside world she seems shallow and vain. Her untamed red hair, eyes the color of the richest amber, and a figure to die for, attract a lot of male attention, which she revels in. She has men wrapped around her little finger. I’m taller than her by a few inches, but she makes up for it with her big mouth and even bigger personality. Amber likes to show off her assets by wearing provocative clothes, on and off work. Like right now, she’s dressed in a hot pink, barely there tank top with “BITE ‘EM” written across her boobs in big sparkling letters, and black shorts that barely cover her ass.
“I’m not crazy, I am just crazy worried about you. Worried you’ll be too busy taking care of other people and forget about your needs. You know, like something that starts with an “S” and ends with “EX”.”
“Oh, don’t start. Not again. I’ll be doing my job, not looking for a relationship or a booty call.” I put the last of my clothes in the other suitcase, but I need to sit on top of it to close the zipper.
“I’m not starting anything, Ev. You should start dipping your toes in the dating pool again. It’s been forever since I saw you with a man.”
“Amber…” I shoot her a warning look.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” She rolls her eyes. “You don’t want to get involved with anyone, yada, yada. I just don’t understand why. It’s been years, Ev. Years. I don’t know how you can live without sex. I’d go crazy. My vagina would fall off or something.”
“Well, if you want to know, my vagina is still there, breathing and kicking. I don’t need a man in my life to be happy.” Really.
“If you say so.” She shrugs and takes one suitcase off my bed. “Call me when you get there. Love you.”
“I will. And I love you, too.”
She helps me load up my car, we say our final goodbyes, before I drive off in my Toyota toward a new chapter in my life.
Standing by my car with a suitcase in one hand, and a plastic container in the other, I stare up at the house that’s going to be my home for the foreseeable future. Before I left Amber’s apartment, I made a batch of sugar-free cookies so Carlos can eat some, too. I barely managed to save some from Amber who almost devoured half of it. Two more suitcases are still in my car; I had no idea how much stuff I have until I started packing. Slowly, I move up the small steps leading in to the front door.
Taking a deep breath, I straighten my spine, put a confident smile on my face, and ring the bell. Several times. Huh. It seems like forever before I hear some rumbling on the other side. Finally, I desperately need to pee. But that’s all forgotten when the door opens. My jaw drops. There’s a man, a very handsome one, wearing pajama pants riding dangerously low on his lean hips without a shirt on standing in front of me. All I can do is stare at his rugged, strong, athletic body for a few long seconds. He is not bulky, not at all, his muscles are lean, all man. With his tanned skin, I’m guessing he spends a lot of time outside.
I must look silly gawking at him, but I’ve never been so affected by a man’s body as I am by his—I’m actually speechless, my hands are sweaty and my mouth is dry, all I can do is blink my eyes. There’s not an inch of fat on his flat stomach, only hard bumps and ridges, covered in tattoos. A trail of dark hair is running from his navel, down into the waistband of his pajamas. Swallowing hard and slow, I force my eyes upwards to meet his brown, almond-shaped ones still filled with sleep. He appears to be around my age, maybe a little older.
“What?” he grumbles, leaning on the doorframe. He is scowling, like I’m some kind of psycho.
I shift my weight nervously from one leg to another. “Um.” I frown, confusion and embarrassment washing over me. I wasn’t expecting a muscled God opening the door.
“Did Phoenix send you?” His sleepy eyes narrow further, glaring at me, apparently pissed off I messed up his beauty sleep or something. “Interviews for go-go dancers don’t start until tomorrow. At Mi Vida,” he emphasizes the last two words. “Phoenix and his stupid pranks,” he mumbles to himself. Rubbing his hand through his stubble, he turns around and starts to close the door.
“Excuse me?” With a glare at his back, I jam my foot in the door to stop him from closing it. The sharp tone of my voice stops the impolite man in his tracks. Go-go dancers, Mi Vida? What the hell is he talking about? “A go-go dancer?” I drop my gaze
and examine my new clothes. Amber made me buy a tiny blue crop top with a semi-transparent mesh shirt on top that falls off one shoulder and fake leather leggings, which reach down to my knees. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to her when she said my butt looks incredible in them. The same goes for strappy black heels that according to her words make my legs look even longer. I’m not dressed as a nun, but I’m a far cry from looking like a go-go dancer. “I’m the caregiver Dolores Ruiz hired,” I say sharply.
“Oh, fuck,” the man sounds shocked, scratching his neck as he turns around, confused as hell. “You’re Carlos’s nurse?” His eyes bulge out as he finally connects the dots.
“Yes, my name is Everly Johnson. Am I too early?” It’s way past ten in the morning. Dolores asked me to come over at around ten.
“No, it’s fine. I just … I had a long night, that’s all.” He sighs, but his eyes don’t change. He’s still glaring at me with his lips pressed into a thin line. “Come in,” he says eventually. Thank God. I was about to pee at his doorstep. “My name is Connor Meadows. Dolores and Carlos are my in-laws.”
So this is the son-in-law Dolores mentioned. He seems rude. When I walk past him into the house, his scent invades my senses—subtle, musky, and all man, my favorite combo. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I try to focus my attention on the big potted plants decorating the opposite walls of the hallway and not ogle the obviously irritated man by my side.
“Dolores wanted me to show you to your room.” Not saying anything else, he circles around me, and stalks down the hallway.
All righty then. This isn’t weird at all.
“You comin’?” His impatient call makes my feet move, nearly causing me to trip over my own feet in the process.
“This is Dolores and Carlos’s bedroom.” He points to a closed door on our left I already saw when I had the interview. We climb the steps right after and pass two closed doors, then stop in front of what he explains is the bathroom. Before he leads me to the next door, he looks over his shoulder to see if I’m following him. “This is your room.” He motions his hand to a closed door. “If you have any complaints, you should take them up with Dolores.” He crosses his arms over his chest.