The house had an almost completely open-plan downstairs area, so as I made my way around, I was able to keep a close eye on Jazz and how he acted around his daughter. He vanished into the bathroom for a second and brought out a damp washcloth, and began carefully dabbing away at the cut on her head. He spoke to her softly the whole time—asking about the cartoons she’d been watching, apparently as a way of distracting her from his clean-up. The way he spoke to her, it was comforting, soft, and sweet—but when I went around the back of the couch to inspect her play area, I was stunned at the anger on his face.
He wasn’t letting her see it, but I wasn’t blind—I was almost taken aback by how angry he seemed, and wondered what had set this off within him. Maybe he was just feeling powerless, angry because he had been unable to protect his daughter, humiliated and worried that it had all gone down in front of a social worker. As I got closer, I could see that he was fighting back tears. Jesus. This had really affected him, that much was clear.
“Who sent you?” he asked, apparently suddenly remembering that I was in the room. I glanced down at my clipboard—I knew I wasn’t allowed to tell him, but I could see that it was a call from a neighbor. The same one who had rung up the other times when nothing had been found to go against him.
“Uh, I can’t say.”
A wry smile cracked over his face. “Was it that neighbor again?” He shook his head. “You don’t have to tell me, I know. I know what they think of me over there.”
He continued cleaning up his daughter, carefully placing a Band-Aid over her small cut and giving her a kiss when he was done. She smiled up at him, her misadventure seemingly forgotten, just like that.
“Can I go finish my cartoons?” she asked brightly, and he nodded. She scampered off to the TV and switched it on, plonking herself down in front of the screen and propping up her chin in her hands. Jazz watched the whole time, brow furrowed. It might have been forgotten that easily for her, but it was clearly a different story for him.
“Hey, this is going to sound like a weird question,” he began, and for a second, I thought he might proposition me then and there—I flushed slightly, and pushed the thought from my brain. I was there to check on his kid, not him.
“Go ahead.” I continued my inspection; everything looked good, child-friendly and safe, and I wondered again who had called this in in the first place.
“Could you babysit for me?” he asked, screwing his face up. “I usually get one of the neighbors to do it, but if they’re calling this in…”
“Huh?” I raised my eyebrows at him.
“I’ll pay, of course,” he jumped in quickly. “Good money. And you can stay over in the guest room.”
Okay, now that was a tempting offer. It would save me the money on a hotel, and it meant I could continue the inspection without it coming across as though that was what I was doing.
“Why, what are you doing?” I asked suspiciously. This all seemed a little too good to be true, and I wasn’t sure why he wouldn’t just get in touch with Ella’s mom or a family friend or something and ask them to do it for him.
“I have work stuff,” he replied vaguely, waving his hand in the air between us. “It’s important, but I’ve had to cancel the last few times because of this little lady.”
He smiled as he glanced over at her, and I couldn’t fight the grin on my face as well.
“Um, I don’t see why not.” I shrugged. “As long as we’re clear that it’s in a professional capacity.”
“What else would it be?” He flashed me a smile, and I felt that flush work its way back up my neck once again. Come on, Mona, get it the fuck together.
“Uh, right.” I shook my head. This guy was making my brain bend. It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to continue this inspection without him there, because he was seriously distracting. And I had to admit, I wanted to see more of him, too. Was that pathetic? It was probably a little pathetic. And he probably knew just how attracted to him I was—fuck, he was probably using that to his advantage, playing me like a freaking guitar so he got what he wanted out of me.
“I should have a free evening in a couple of weeks?” I suggested. That was when my apartment was getting fumigated, and I could use the free place to stay. He nodded at once, not an ounce of hesitation on his face.
“That sounds great.” He bowed his head towards me thankfully. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
“Not a problem,” I replied, and stuck out my hand to him. “I guess I can shake your hand now.”
“I guess you can,” he replied, and took my hand between both of his. His skin was warm and soft, dizzyingly so, and I found myself staring down at the spots where our skin connected before we let go. I withdrew my hand quickly, and patted down my hair, pulling myself together. I had an inspection to complete.
“Do you mind if I head upstairs?” I asked, and he nodded.
“Be my guest.” He gestured up the stairs. “If you need anything, just shout. But I’m going to stay down here with Ella.”
I watched as he went to plant himself next to her, leaning back on his hands and staring intently at the cartoons on the TV, and I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Okay, this was going to be an interesting first job. I could tell.