The Spaces Between Your Fingers

Click the image to flip

One of her favorite parts about this job was her bedroom. When the little girl she nannied went to bed, she had an entire section of the mansion to herself. Despite the luxury, she wasn’t about to degrade herself by accepting the man’s advances, especially when he was married with a child.

    The faucet ran with a calming gurgle. It had been a long day, and Doreen was ready for bed. She cupped her hands, letting the water pool over her fingers. She splashed her face, rubbing it clean of makeup.

    Doreen blindly reached out for the towel she had set beside her.

    “Here you go.”

    Doreen jumped, eyes instinctively flying open. Blinking water out of her slightly stinging eyes, Doreen tried to make out the form standing in the doorway.

    “Mr. Romero?” She said, guessing off of the size of the figure. The man nodded. Doreen gave a nervous laugh. “You startled me.”

    The man stared at her with a sly smile, his eyes wandering her figure in an uncomfortable way.

    “ Is everything okay? Is Isabella up?”

    The man started toward her. “Everything is perfectly fine.” He stopped in front of her. His brown eyes clung to hers. His hand rose to her face.

    She slapped it away, backpedaling. “I’m sorry, “she said, disgusted and afraid. “You’ll have to find another nanny.” She pushed past him and began packing her bags.


Alert IconAre you sure you want to permanently delete this postcard? You cannot undo this action. Delete