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Without waiting for a response, I turn off my computer.
I don’t care how I look. I don’t care if I walk with enough pep in my step.
The nerve of this man.
What adick.
I make my way to the Tube, practically power walking. All the good vibes I was feeling earlier are long gone thanks to one very hot, very infuriating boss.
Why did he have to inquire about Ava’s father like that? Does it even matter if the father is present? I’m an employee, not a slave. I’m allowed to take time off.
I know parents are protective by nature, but when it comes to Ava, I am a lioness. Under no circumstances will I compromise her well-being, nor do I need to share my daughter’s genetic condition with anyone.
His questions play over and over in my mind all the way back to the flat. It’s rare that I let myself sink into a bad mood, but Mr. Godoy definitely did the trick today.
As soon as I walk into the flat, a familiar, sweet voice calls out
“Hi, Mummy!”
Instantly, a smidge of my frustration fades when I see her smile.
“My little duckling, come here.”
I bend and open my arms so Ava can hug me easier.
“How are you, baby?” I ask, inhaling the lavender scent of her hair.
“I’m very good, Mummy. Mrs. Evans helped me get ready.”
She pulls out of the hug and twirls around, showing me the pink dress she’s wearing. Mrs. Evans fixed her hair into a single plait, using only the top section, tight it with a pink bow. My baby girl looks beautiful.
“Thank you, Mrs. Evans,” I say, straightening to my full height.
“It was my pleasure, dear,” she says as she grabs her key from the dining table. After placing a kiss on Ava’s head, she gives me a questioning look.
But instead of leaving, she takes a seat at the table.
My throat tightens, and my eyes immediately water.
“Ava, sweetie, do you want to work on one of those coloring pages for me? I’d like to put it on my fridge.”
Ava nods excitedly and goes to her art corner in the living room.
Mrs. Evans turns back to me, gently taking my hand in hers. “What happened?”
Before replying, I take a few calming breaths—I don’t want Ava to hear me cry.
“I’ve been avoiding telling Mr. Godoy all week about me leaving early today. So, of course, as I was heading out, he questioned me. When I told him I needed to take my daughter to the doctor, he asked why her father couldn’t take her.”
I purse my lips tightly, willing my tears not to fall.
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry. Please make no mistake, I’m not saying what he said was right, but in his head, everyone has it just as easy as he does.”
She pauses to check for curious ears nearby, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Think about it—that man has people to cook for him, clean for him, and handle everything. He even has a bloody jet! He doesn’t know how the rest of us live,” she says.
I know she’s right—he’s a billionaire without a care in the world.