I’d sat in board meetings for some of the wealthiest companies in the world, looked their CEOs in the eye, and told them they were being fucking idiots and would be the reason they’re company went under.
And I never broke a sweat.
But I was in a near panic over sending my daughters to Disneyland.
Sure, I sent them to their dad’s every weekend, and all four of us had gone to Disneyland together when I was still married to Joe and the girls were younger. But this time he was taking them to the park by himself.
I stood in the middle of the living room, their luggage in front of me, and resisted the urge to check their suitcases a third time, to make sure we hadn’t forgotten to pack anything.
Harmony was dancing around me, singing something that had started off as Bippity, Boppity, Boo, segued to A Whole New World, and was now Be Our Guest. She stopped immediately in front of me, eyes wide, and expression somber. “Mom. What if Cinderella isn’t there when we go to her castle?”
“Then you’ll have to check back later.”
“But I’ll be busy later.” Harmony had an entire schedule of where she wanted to go and when, in all the parks. What five-year-old did that?
Mine, apparently. And she’d probably learned it from watching me. “If you ask Alana, she’ll make sure you can move your schedule around, okay?”
Harmony scrunched her face up, then grinned. “Okay.” Before she could start singing again, a car pulled into the driveway. “Dad’s here,” she shouted, and ran to the front window.
He was five minutes early. I was impressed. It wasn’t that Joe was specifically irresponsible. The opposite in fact—if work called, all else was second priority.
I liked to think I wasn’t that bad, but there were days I was just as guilty. I was trying, though. My girls deserved one parent who was there for them.
“Mom.” Alana’s cry came from upstairs in reply. “I can’t find my navy capris.”
“You already packed them.”
“Not those. The other ones.” Alana appeared at the top of the stairs.
Right. I did a quick mental inventory of the house. “Are they in the dryer?”
“Maybe.” She ran into the basement, footsteps heavier than should be possible for a thin thirteen-year-old.
Harmony opened the door as Joe reached the front step, and hugged his legs. “Hi, Daddy.”
He ruffled her hair. “Hey, short stuff. You ready to meet Cinderella?”
“Yeah.” Harmony clapped.
He looked at me. “I’m sorry about this.” He wasn’t really.
I’d rearranged my schedule and the girls’ specifically to make sure I could take them to Hawaii this week. I didn’t believe for a moment that it was a coincidence Joe scheduled a Disneyland trip at the same time, especially when he let me know by asking them to pick which one they preferred.
I gave him my sweetest smile anyway. “I understand. The girls are looking forward to it, and I’m glad they have the chance to go.”
“Found them,” Alana said from behind me.
I handed Harmony her backpack. “Take this and help Dad load your stuff into the car.” I nudged the heaviest suitcase toward Joe.
Joe grabbed the bag, and followed Harmony outside.
When they were out of earshot, I turned to Alana. “Promise me you’ll keep an eye on Harmony.”
“Mom. You already know.” Alana huffed.
“Say it anyway. Reassure me you’ll make sure she gets to go on the rides she wants.”
Alana crossed her arms. “What about the rides I want to go on?”
“Make sure Dad lets you go on those too.”
She raised her brows. “So if he’s ignoring us, do I have permission to call him a dickhead?”
It was so tempting. “Don’t call your father a dickhead to his face.” That was a reasonable concession. “And you’re welcome to take his phone and pocket it before you get on rides, to make sure he’s focused on Harmony.” How fucked up was it that I trusted my twelve-year-old more than my ex-husband?
Then again, there was a reason he was the ex.
We finished loading up Joe’s car, strapped Harmony into her booster seat, and I gave the girls one more round of hugs before forcing myself to send them on their way.
That was one pair on their way. Now I just had to get the next one settled, and then I was jetting off to Hawaii on my own. I already had the vacation set up, no reason to stay at home and mope. While I was gone, Alana’s swim coaches would be staying here. Their apartment was being fumigated, they were saving every penny they could, to grow their coaching business, and the arrangement made sense.
An exercise in efficiency. It was a beautiful thing. Though I’d still rather be taking the vacation with my daughters.
I loaded up my own things into my car, and was just finishing when Colin parked in front of the house. Tanner wasn’t far behind, taking the second spot in the driveway.
As they climbed out of their vehicles, I knew better than to ogle their well-toned forms. Mostly because I’d had a year or two of practice, and I’d do my staring when they weren’t looking. I always felt weird, in a Mrs. Robinson kind of way, objectifying them.
Not that they were kids, but at thirty, they were still nearly a decade younger than me.
“Morning, Ms. Lane,” Colin called at the same time Tanner said, “Hey, Daria.”
I waved back, never sure which name was more awkward, and nodded at the front door. “Hey guys. Come on in.”
As they walked past me, I most definitely drank in an eyeful. They were both dressed in T-shirts and shorts—reasonable, expected, but always a tempting reminder of what they looked like wearing less.
Colin was about six inches taller than my five-six, with broad shoulders, dark hair, and the most adoring brown eyes. I knew from the many times I’d seen him teaching the kids that he had the perfect amount of fuzz on his chest, and deity levels of patience with the students.
Tanner had been an Olympic swimmer, but a torn rotator cuff stopped him from finishing the year he competed, and the injury never healed to the point where he could rejoin the team. He still kept his body mostly hair free, which… yum. And he had a piercing blue gaze that made most people crack under it.
There were days when I could convince myself the age difference didn’t matter long enough to indulge fantasies about them, but I never managed to forget they were Alana’s favorite teachers. A reality that made it easier to keep them as friends and nothing more.
“All right, grand tour.” I stopped next to them in the living room. “Our bedrooms are upstairs. Stay out of the girls’ rooms unless there’s some sort of disaster.” I wasn’t actually worried about them violating our private spaces, but the checklist was in my head and I was going through it. “You’re welcome to use the shower in my room if you need to. You won’t run out of hot water, using two at the same time.”
I led them into the kitchen. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge and cupboards. Please do, so it doesn’t go bad.” Two steps down and we were in the sunken family room. I gestured to the two rooms that sat off that. “You can sleep in those. There’s another shared shower. Laundry room, weights, and treadmill are downstairs. Help yourself. My office is down there too, and stays locked for client privacy reasons, and not at all because you should never go in there.” I hoped my light sarcasm conveyed the spooky old movie vibe I was going for.
Their laughs said I’d nailed it.
Was the house entirely too big for three people? Yes. But back when my universe revolved around Joe, we had grand visions of this becoming our lifetime home, retiring here, having plenty of room for grandkids…
I’d been so delusional.
“That’s that. You can call me if you need me. Any questions?”
“I think we’re set. Thank you so much, again, for letting us stay here,” Colin said.
“Of course, no problem.” Temptation surged through me, to stick around, chat a little longer. Maybe joke.
I had a flight to catch and if I was lucky, I’d hook up with some hottie on the beach while I was gone. Unlikely he’d be the same kind of company Colin and Tanner were, but I was looking for pretty and a good lay, not late-night conversations under the stars.
“Right. Yeah. Call me.” I shouldered my laptop and grabbed my purse.
My phone rang. I glanced at the screen. Work. Fuck. “Be right back. So I can leave again,” I said to the guys.
I wandered into the front foyer as I clicked Answer. “This is Daria.”
“Thank God I caught you before your flight.” Bernie didn’t sound panicked the way his words implied. He’d known I would still be here.
I swallowed my groan. “Only barely. What can I do for you?”
He was one of the partners who owned the angel investment firm I worked for. He was damn good at his job—investing and making a huge return—but he wasn’t a people person. “Zedophap is having a series of post go-live vendor issues. I need you to give them a call.”
“I’m literally walking out the door to catch a plane.” When I took this job right as Joe and I were divorcing, the thought of telling any of the partners no would’ve made me wither and die. I’d had to learn better.
“I need you to take this. If this wasn’t a hundred-million-dollar crisis, I wouldn’t ask.”
Bullshit. “Non-refundable vacation package.”
“I’ll cover the cost myself. And if you pull this off—which you will—there’s a big bonus in it for you.”
Damn it. That kind of money would pay for a better vacation. One I could actually enjoy with my daughters. “Fine. Give me ten minutes to set up my laptop and I’ll call them.”
“Thank you.” Bernie’s gratitude caught me off-guard.
I held my growl until I disconnected, then let it roll out in a long wave of frustration.
“Everything all right?” Colin’s question caught me off guard.
I spun to find him in the doorway, those dark puppy dog eyes watching me with concern.
Right. The other part of this equation was the sexy young studs I’d promised my house to for the next week. How best to phrase this?