His Minimalism Threw Away My Daughter's Heart

Eighteen thousand after taxes, with room, board, and everything else covered on top of that. Genuinely good terms.

"And Coco's the same age as Ethan. With the two of them together, they'd have each other to play with."

"So you posted that photo to your feed on purpose, and slipped the receipt into Peter's pocket—just to get me to come knocking?"

Julia smiled a little. "You're a wonderful mother. Peter just never gave your worth its due."

I looked at the contract, unable to decide.

What Julia was offering me really was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. But could I just take it so easily—

She seemed to read my hesitation. "Ethan isn't Peter's son. You don't have to carry any guilt over that."

She sighed, letting a rare flicker of vulnerability show. "And I'm not handing you charity. The truth is, I need you, Sheila."

"Besides, I can handle your divorce for you."

"You'd take my case?" I lifted my eyes to her. "But you're Peter's—"

"I'm Peter's ex-girlfriend. But first and foremost, I'm a lawyer."

She paused.

"Sheila, you need to be clear with yourself. Did you come here to have it out with me, or to get back what's rightfully Coco's?"

From the children's room came the sounds of Coco and Ethan, the two of them at the piano, the melody broken and halting, their giggles never stopping.

"Why do you want to help me?"

"Like I just said, I need you." Julia met my eyes openly. "I've gone through several nannies, and not one of them could let me walk out the door and go to work without worrying. But you're different. You've raised Coco so well. I trust what you can do."

"And the divorce case?"

"That's an added service." She gave a small smile. "Once you sign this contract, you're my people. And I'm not about to let Peter push around someone of mine for nothing."

"Besides, putting you in this kind of work is honestly a waste of you."

I was quiet for a moment.

Peter had never once shown me that kind of consideration.

"You trust me that much?"

"Back in college, I already knew exactly what kind of person you are."

There was no doubt in her voice.

And the irony of it hit me.

Julia could tell from a few years of knowing each other in college that I was someone worth counting on.

While Peter, who lived with me day in and day out, called me a woman too greedy for things, too useless to keep a home.

"All right. I accept."