4|Life In Order

An hour later, Austin and Orlando were ready for their jam-packed day.

He whipped up a quick breakfast for her and sat her down at the kitchen island.

"Aren't you eating?" she asked when he placed a plate of scrambled eggs and whole wheat toast in front of her.

"No," he shook his head, asking from inside the fridge as he scanned the bone-dry shelves, "orange or apple juice?"

"Apple today, please," said Orlando. "Why aren't you eating, Daddy?"

"I'm nervous," Austin confessed, pouring the last bit of juice into her small glass. He dumped the empty bottle in the bin. They really had to go food shopping soon.

"Why?"

"Moving in with someone is a huge decision, Orly, and to be honest, I'm not sure things will go my way," he replied. Sure, he'd talked a good game in hopes of scaring Marybeth and getting her to give in to his demands. But what if she didn't show up? What if she decided she wanted no part of his insane plan and called his bluff? She sounded confident and damn sure of herself when she spoke to him, affirming the stereotype about redheads being hotheaded within the first few minutes of their conversation.

Austin exhaled loudly as he took the empty chair beside his daughter, thinking about the plan weeks in the making. He'd signed tons of business deals in the past. Some legit. And, well, others—no, many of them actually—questionable. But this would be his first time attempting something so radically bold.

If he pulled it off…if Marybeth met him at Home Affairs and agreed to be his wife, he'd add one more impossible feat to his already glowing resumé.

"Daddy, I think Neli's here," Orlando announced when her iPhone 13 Mini blasted out a BTS tune, something about being smooth like butter, on the counter. She checked it, pushed her plate away, and jumped out of her seat.

Sure enough, when Austin strolled to the window in the living room to check, a bright yellow Mini Cooper was waiting on the kerb fifteen stories below.

"Finish your breakfast first," he said when he turned back from the window. But Orlando was already in the living room, slipping into her ballet shoes.

"Fine, grab your stuff, and I'll walk you down," Austin grumbled when it became clear the scrambled eggs he'd made with so much love had lost their appeal, and there was no way his six-year-old would sit still long enough to finish her breakfast. Not when her best friend was already waiting for her.

"I can go by myself. I'm a big girl," Orlando announced proudly as she threw on a pink tutu over her matching leotard and flung her backpack over her shoulder.

"Nice try, Squeak. Even when you're fifty, I'll still walk you down. You know why?" he asked as he picked her up and kissed the top of her head, careful not to disturb her bun. It took them a long time to get it to a state she'd deemed acceptable.

"Because I'll always be your little girl?"

"That's right!" Austin tapped her nose and asked, "do you have your change of clothing?"

"Yep," Orlando nodded.

"Toothbrush and PJs?"

"Uh-huh." She sighed impatiently. "Daddy, you helped me pack everything, remember?"

"Right, of course!" Austin chuckled at her annoyed pout. "Don't forget, Neli's mom will take you guys to the movies after class, and you'll spend the night at their place. I'll pick you up tomorrow, and we'll have lunch with Gramps—"

"I know, I know!" Orlando fussed in his arms. "Can we go now? I don't want to be late."

"Alright, Squeak, are you ready to go on pointe today?"

"It's too soon, Daddy!" Orlando scolded him. "Ms Gracie says it will take me at least another ten years to go on pointe."

"Ms Gracie doesn't know your true potential," Austin told her as he grabbed his phone and checked his wallet, making sure he had his ID card and driver's license.

Satisfied he had his life in order, he looked around the open plan living area one more time, cringing at Orlando's clothes and shoes scattered around the living room and last night's empty pizza box on the coffee table.

He was fantastic at time management and could hold his own when it came to cooking. But housekeeping was definitely not his strong suit. Marybeth had better move in fast, or he'd have to contact Sweep South or another cleaning service as a last resort. The very thought made him break out in cold sweat. He loathed the idea of strangers snooping around his place. The fewer people he had in his house, the better. It was one of the many reasons he'd decided a wife made far more sense than hiring another housekeeper or nanny. A wife wouldn't leave to move closer to her family when she broke her hip. A wife was permanent and would have all the time in the world for Orlando.

While the elevator crept to the ground floor, Orlando kept rattling off all her plans for the day, but she was unbelievably excited for Wednesday's guitar lesson at the Rec Centre.

"I can't believe Ms Tyson is your special friend!" she gushed for what must have been the millionth time since Austin broke the news to her.

"Better believe it, Squeak!" He laughed, pretty pleased with his ingenuity. Sure, in a few hours, there was a real chance he'd have to face the firing squad and account for his recklessness. But he'd gladly take his father's wrath and the family's disapproval any day, just to see the look of pure joy on Orlando's face. It was obvious Marybeth held a special place in her heart.

"Will you come to watch me play?" she asked when the elevator stopped on the sixth floor. A young couple of around sixteen or seventeen sprung in, sticking to each other like glue as they continued their snogfest, never mind that there was a minor in their presence.

Austin placed his hands over Orlando's eyes to shield her from their shenanigans, but she wasn't having any of it. She pushed his hands away and glared at him, oblivious to the horny teens in the corner.

With an earnestness Austin only ever saw in her eyes, Orlando pleaded as she scrunched her face at him. "Pretty please, Daddy? You've never come to my guitar lessons."

"That's because Mrs Allan takes you there."

"Mrs Allan isn't here anymore."

"Right!" Austin nodded, taken aback by her words. He really had to stop thinking about his former housekeeper in the present tense.

"So?" Orlando pushed, refusing to let him off the hook without getting some kind of commitment from him.

Austin sighed. He hadn't factored in a lot of the stuff that Mrs Allan used to do—like the morning drop-offs and afternoon pick-ups, and ferrying Orlando to all her after-school activities.

The past few weeks were a breeze for him, and he managed to fit everything on Orlando's schedule because he took some time off to settle her in after Mrs Allan's exit. But come Monday, he'd be back at work; Royal Lights and Hawthorne Group would require all his focus. He'd never have the time for all five of Orlando's extra murals. But at that moment, as she gazed at him with such hopeful eagerness, he couldn't bring himself to disappoint her. So he gently patted her head, promising he'd make an appearance at the Rec Centre. "Anything for you, Squeak. I'll definitely make a plan."

"Thank you, Daddy!" Orlando screeched and flung her arms around his waist, bolting out of the elevator when the doors slid open on the ground floor.

"Bye. See you tomorrow!" she yelled over her shoulder and skipped off to her friend's car.

Austin waited until she was safely strapped in the back, before strolling to one of the five black Maserati SUVs parked in the tree-lined cul-de-sac.