Page 13 of Knotted their Beauty

“Mr. March, are you still there?”

I shake my head and blink a few times as that question is huffed down the line. So feisty. “I’m here. Sorry. Had a message come through I had to check. So, Cali is okay?”

Arlo sighs, long and loud like he’s clearly annoyed and it brings a smile to my face.

“Like I was saying, she’s fine. She tripped while we were on our walk, rolled her ankle, and we came home. I gave her the amount of Motrin you said she could have for minor pain, her foot is elevated and she has ice on her ankle. She can move it as well as her toes so I’m pretty confident in saying it’s just sprained, and Cali is currently watching some wildlife documentary while eating a banana split. She’s fine, even though she’s not one hundred percent.”

“You’re sure you don’t need me to come home?”

“Not before you’re supposed to.”

“Okay, then.” I smirk as I reach for the mouse pad on my laptop and switch to the live feed from the security cameras in my apartment. “I’ll be home around the normal time, and I’ll let you know if I get stuck late. Call if you need anything.”

“Yes, sir.”

I take a deep breath and ignore his words as I zoom in on Cali, doing exactly what Arlo said before panning over to him. He’s pacing in the kitchen, still on the phone, but there is an incredibly irritated vibe coming from his posture and every stomp of his feet on my tile floor. Something I enjoy watching even if his tone doesn’t match his body language.

“See you tonight, Mr. March. Have a safe drive home.”

“See you,” I grunt then hang up, watching the nanny shake off our conversation before a small, sweet smile plays across his lips.

It's brief, but it’s beautiful, and watching it grow as he walks toward my daughter and joins her on the couch is just more fuel for the need to fire him.

This isn’t how the nanny thing has gone before, and it’s not how it should be going now, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to listen to logic this time. No, I think I’ll tow the line of delusion a little longer before I make sure Cali isn’t the one who gets burned in the end.

Chapter

Four

TWO WEEKS LATER

ARLO

The fan turns lazily above me as I stare up without truly seeing it. My days are incredible and full of excitement with Cali. She has no fear, loves to go to the park, for long walks, and she keeps me busy. Seeing things through her eyes is really special, and it helps me feel lighter. I’ve seen too much bad shit for how young I am, but she reminds me of the good in the world.

Spending the daylight hours doing things all day long helps time pass quickly, but the apartment is too quiet once she goes to bed. That’s when I retreat to my room to lie in bed until sleep finally pulls at me once Mr. March gets home.

Her ankle has fully healed after she rolled it while running, but my heart raced when I had to call her father. He sounded pissed, yet what did he expect me to do? I have a responsibility to care for Calista and keep him updated on her health.

Of course I fucking called him! It took everything inside of me not to yell at him for his cold, angry tone as he spoke to me. I am beginning to realize I have a problem with authority. It itches at me, because I know I’m a damn good nanny.

I’m extending Calista’s palate by introducing her to new snacks, I make her meals for her, and I prep things for Mr. March so he can easily reheat them. I eat whatever is leftover from what I make so there’s no waste, and my stomach is always full. There’s no more worries about where my next meal is coming from or trying to figure out how I’ll make it to the soup kitchen before it closes.

The public spaces of the apartment are always clean, and Calista will often help me clean up after she’s done playing.

This is the best job I’ve ever had if I’m truly being honest with myself. I share the bathroom with a six year old, but that’s better than my previous roommates. I could only shower when it was really early in the morning or very late at night because my ex-roommates would make nasty comments about how long I was in the bathroom.

While I am an omega, I’m not particularly fussy. I like clean spaces, but rarely get to enjoy them because of how often I’ve found myself homeless. Even now, I’m unsure how long my position as Calista’s nanny will last.

It feels too good to be true. The mattress is the perfect firmness, the window doesn’t have bars over it, and the blanket I keep in my backpack keeps me warm. While Mr. March told me I was welcome to use anything in the linen closet, I don’t feel comfortable using anything that smells like him.

It’s not that he doesn’t smell amazing. It’s because he does. His peppermint mocha scent clings to the apartment long after he’s gone, and I can’t handle my sheets smelling like that too. I would never stop touching myself, and my dick doesn’t need to be permanently chafed, despite how well I self lubricate with my slick.

I think I would die if my scent could be smelled past the walls of my bedroom because of how much I masturbated. I still haven’t figured out what to do about my heats, but that’s an issue for another day. I’m on heat blockers that’ll keep them locked down until I’m in a situation where I can afford to go to a heat clinic.

I don’t even know if I get time off for my heat, especially when my boss is going to begin going out of town for work soon. Turning onto my stomach, I groan into my mattress in frustration. No, I don’t have a pillow yet. I haven’t gotten paid yet because I haven’t had a chance to get to the bank. For some reason, I can’t find my account information, and I don’t remember my login information. Without these things, Mr. March can’t pay me.

I am a fucking mess. If it wasn’t for my government assisted cell phone, I would be completely out of touch with the world.