Chapter 2

A large, mahogany desk sat in the center of the room, where a large, comfortable leather chair sat across from it. The desk was tidy with papers neatly stacked and picture frames bordering the edges. The room was dim, but Carol squinted when the blinds pulled back to let more light in. Standing off to the side of the large pane glass windows was a tall, handsome black man with dark dreads tied back. He sported a dark goatee and flashed a perfect smile in her direction when she closed the door behind herself.

"You must be Carol."

"Yes. Um, Carol Mason." She watched as he turned from the window and bridged the gap between them, extending his hand for a firm handshake.

"I'm Ezekiel Matthews. Thank you for coming down on such short notice. I do hope traffic didn't cause you much delay."

"No, it was pretty much what it usually is," Carol chuckled.

"Have a seat." He motioned toward the seat in front of the desk, not taking a seat until Carol herself was seated. "So you've recently graduated?"

"Yes. I, uh, I didn't realize until I was halfway here that I left my diploma on the wall at home. I can get it."

"No need," Ezekiel said with a wave of his hand. "I'm very thorough when it comes to the people I work with. What kind of work experience do you have?"

"Scooping ice cream at the Icy Hut in high school. Uh, I've babysat a few times. In college, I worked retail, which I guess it pretty much like babysitting if you think about it." Ezekiel chuckled at that, and Carol blushed. He was so intently focused on her, which was probably part of his interview style, but it still made her nervous. He spoke and carried himself like a man much older than he looked.

"So you've worked with children?"

"Not much," she admitted. "I mean, I did student teaching during college, but it was mostly with older children. I don't have much experience with little ones."

"I appreciate the honest answer. You wouldn't believe how many people have lied through their teeth about that one," Ezekiel chuckled. "So you want to be a teacher?"

"I do," Carol smiled.

"What else do you enjoy?"

"Reading. Writing. I love a good movie now and then," she chuckled, suddenly feeling as if she was on a first date. She wiped her sweaty palms on her lap and cleared her throat. "So, you have a son?"

"Julian, yes. We just celebrated his first birthday last week." Ezekiel turned one of the pictures around, showing Carol a capture of him holding the little guy with cake all of her his face. Carol put her hand to her chest.

"Oh, he's adorable."

"I'm pretty proud of him," Ezekiel chuckled.

"So you just have the one child?" Carol asked.

"Yes. Julian's my first."

"So it's just you and your wife and your son?"

"My wife passed in childbirth," Ezekiel murmured.

"Oh." Carol gasped softly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"It's alright," he assured her, holding a hand up. "It's difficult. But Julian and I have done alright so far. But, my business is growing, and unfortunately, that's keeping me from home more often than I'd like. My current nanny is getting married next week, and she's moving to California, so you can understand that I'm pressed for time when it comes to finding her replacement."

"Yes, I understand. Um, so this job is just until Christmas."

"That's all I'm requesting," Ezekiel said with a nod. "After Christmas, things should quiet down. I should have more time at home. I won't require as much assistance. However, if it turns out to be the right fit, I might be willing to extend your employment, should you be chosen."

"I'm sure I'll find something by then," Carol explained. She shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "This is probably an inappropriate question for an interview, but why so much? $2,000 per week? That seems like a lot."

"I won't tiptoe around it. I'm a wealthy man. I was born into a wealthy family. My father was a good business man. I followed in his footsteps. I help people who need money to start their own businesses by giving them some of mine. In return, I make more money. But I have a lot of responsibilities. I travel a lot to check on my investments and spend a lot of time with my accountant checking on my profits. My son is everything to me, and I'm willing to pay handsomely to ensure my son's in good hands." Carol nodded in understanding.

"You seem so…accomplished."

"You wanted to say young." Carol laughed at that.

"I did. You seem so young. You've accomplished so much for someone who can't be more than thirty."

"Well, I appreciate that," he chuckled. "I am thirty. I often feel much older, especially those nights my son decides he doesn't want to sleep."

"You don't have live in help at all?"

"No," he chuckled. "Does that surprise you?"

"Yes, actually," she chuckled.

"If it was up to me, I'd stay home with him all of the time. I've been known to bring him to work with me. But, I love my job. Not as much as I love my son, but I love it, and it's not practical to work from home or bring him to work with me. But, like I said, after Christmas, I should be able to cut my hours back and have more time with him. The summer and fall will be busiest for me." Carol nodded then. "If you're truly interested, I will have Nabila get some information from you." He cleared his throat. "Like I said, I'm very thorough when it comes to people I work with and people who work for me. I need to be sure I'm hiring the best possible person to care for my son when I can't."

"I understand," Carol murmured. She chewed her lip then and gave a little nod. "I'm interested."

"Good," he chuckled. He reached across the table to shake her hand, and when he stood, she stood. "Nabila will be waiting for you. And you'll hear from me by the end of the week with a decision."

"Thank you, Mr. Matthews."

"Please, call me Ezekiel."

"Ezekiel," she said with a smile. "Thank you." She turned to leave, and he called out again. "One more thing."

"Yes?"

"Do you have a passport?"

"Um, yeah. I went to Cancun a couple of years ago. Why?"

"There may be an occasion to travel. Normally, I bring Julian with me if I'm going to be gone more than a couple of days. There's a chance I may have an extended business trip in the near future. I would, of course, pay for your expenses and double your weekly salary if you joined us."

"You…you want me to…"

"If you're chosen. As I said, this is a day to day job, sometimes late hours if I work late. If I travel, I take my son with me. Nabila generally comes along and watches him while I'm in conference. But during extended trips, I prefer having a more hands on nanny to care for him. Nabila is good with him, but she gets a little overwhelmed with him." He cleared his throat. "If that's something you can't do, tell me now."

"I…I can do that. I…I think so."

"Alright," he chuckled. "You'll be hearing from me soon. Have a good day, Carol."

"Thank you. You too," she murmured, feeling a bit jumpy as she turned and let herself out. She was certain her face was red, and her heart was hammering in her chest from the idea of possibly being picked to nanny for a kid that had probably flown first class more in his first year of life than she'd ever flown in her entire twenty-two years.

"How'd it go?" Nabila asked, as Carol crossed the room.

"Good, I think."

"Good," Nabila smiled. "I wouldn't worry too much. The competition really isn't that tough. If my instincts are right, I think you'll be at the top of the list." Carol smiled nervously.

"Thank you," she offered with a little chuckle. "I appreciate that." With that, Carol turned and let herself out, waiting until she was in the privacy of the elevator to pull out her phone. He answered after one ring, and Carol chuckled. "I was expecting your voicemail. Aren't you at work?"

"On break," Daryl snorted. She could hear the click of his lighter. "How'd it go?"

"Good, I think. I'm a little overwhelmed."

"Wasn't a bunch of bullshit?"

"No, actually, it wasn't. I don't think. I don't know." She sighed. "Daryl, I'll be a glorified babysitter making entirely too much money. And get this. I might have to travel."

"Travel? This kid travels?"

"Well, his dad does."

"His dad? So this guy ain't married?" Carol could hear the hesitation in his voice.

"It's a long story. I'll tell you more tonight. You want pizza or Chinese for supper?"

"Pizza."

"Alright. You pick up the pizza, and I'll pick us up some wine to celebrate."

"You got it?"

"No, but I have a good feeling. I don't know. Daryl? If I get this, I can pay off my loans in no time. I can put money toward fixing up the place."

"Sounds like you ain't thinkin' 'bout leavin now."

"Well, I'm trying not to get ahead of myself." She smiled as she stepped off the elevator. "I can't wait to tell you all about it. Gotta go."

"Bye," he murmured, as she ended the call. She hurried out to the parking lot to find Michonne waiting for her.

"How'd it go?" Michonne asked, as Carol slid into the passenger's seat.

"Good, I think. Michonne, my interview was with the president of this company. Or the owner. Whatever. The big guy. He's the one hiring."

"This Matthews guy?" Michonne asked, tapping something into her phone.

"Yeah. I guess he's a widower, and his son's about a year old. He's looking for someone to help with the kid until Christmas. I guess he's got a lot going on at work, and he wants someone to help out until things settle down."

"Hello, gorgeous," Michonne murmured, eyes going wide.

"What?"

"This is who you just met?" she asked, turning her phone toward Carol to reveal a picture of Ezekiel Matthews.

"Yeah. That's him."

"Young, rich, gorgeous, single? Why didn't I interview for this job? God, Carol, if you guys hit it off, this could be like a real life version of The Nanny."

"Oh, shut up," Carol laughed. "He's nice, but I'm not interested in him like that."

"You met him for what, ten minutes?"

"Stop. Besides, aren't you the one who was just insisting that Daryl and I belong together?"

"Well, you do, but if you can't see it, and Daryl's not making a move, there's nothing wrong with having a little fun in the meantime."

"You're awful," Carol snorted. Michonne laughed and shrugged her shoulders.

"What do I know? My last relationship fizzled out faster than a bath bomb in a hot tub." Michonne laughed. "Look, in all seriousness, you keep a lot to yourself. You don't talk about Daryl like that, but I see it in your eyes when you talk about him. There's something there."

"He's my best friend," Carol murmured. "We've both been there for each other through relationships and break ups and really bad choices." She sighed. "I do have feelings for him." Michonne raised her brows at the admission. "But all we've ever known is our friendship. And if Daryl did feel the same way…"

"He would bottle it up just like you have for all these years, and he'd convince himself he's lying to himself, because he doesn't believe he's good enough for you."

"Michonne…that's crazy."

"He doesn't. You've seen the women he's dated. He could do a lot better. He goes out with them. They treat him like shit, but they never break his heart. You know why I think that is?" Carol quirked an eyebrow, bracing herself for Michonne's theory. "Because his heart already belongs to someone else. You. " Michonne sighed. "Maybe he's just as scared as you are of losing what you already have." They were both silent for a moment, before Carol let out a somber sigh.

"I need wine. Can you take me home now?"

"Fine. Drown your feelings with a glass of red. When you wake up in the morning, you'll remember I'm right."

...

After Michonne dropped Carol off at home, Carol had retreated to the bathroom for a long soak in the tub with a glass of wine. She'd put on some upbeat music in an attempt to chase away the confusion in her head, and when that didn't work, she retired to the living room in a comfortable pair of yoga pants and a blue tank top. She sat in silence with an empty wine glass on the coffee table in front of her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone buzzed next to her on the sofa.

She quickly grabbed for it, and her face lit up when she saw who was calling.

"Hey," she chirped into the phone, tucking her feet under her and pulling a pillow into her lap, absently picking at the edges as she waited for his response.

"Hey. You like anchovies and pineapple on yours, right?"

"I hate you," she snorted, crinkling her nose.

"Nah," he chuckled. "I got your favorite. Extra cheese, extra sauce, extra sausage. I know you're all about the sausage."

"Why do you have to make everything sound so dirty, Daryl Dixon?"

"You like it."

"Shut up," she laughed, biting at her bottom lip. "How was work, or should I ask?"

"Not too bad. Lots of call ins. They asked me to pull a double, but I told 'em I had a hot date tonight."

"Damn right, you do, and don't forget it." She laughed then, feeling her worries wash away. "I hope you don't mind, but I already started on the wine."

"You hear about the job yet?"

"No, I don't expect to for a few days. I'm just a little…I don't know. Freaked, might be the best word."

"Why? 'Bout the job?"

"A lot of things," she sighed. "The real world isn't what we thought it would be when we were kids, huh?"

"Yeah. Guess it ain't." He cleared his throat. "'Least you got the space ya wanted from your mom."

"When I told her I wanted to move out, I didn't expect her to pack up her things too and move to Miami," Carol snorted. "At least you got your distance from Merle."

"Yeah," Daryl snorted. "'Til he comes back expectin' me to give him a couch to crash on."

"He's not that bad, Daryl."

"He's a dick."

"Yeah, but he's your brother, and he did look out for you. He tried, Daryl."

"Kept me outta foster care. Guess I gotta give him that. Still, he's a dick, and it don't excuse all the shit he's put me through since high school."

"No, it doesn't."

"Weren't for you, I woulda skipped town the second I got that diploma in my hand." She heard him clear his throat, and she smiled a little.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't. Who else would have helped me study after all of that procrastinating?"

"Not sure how much help I was."

"You were a big help," Carol insisted. "I'm glad you were here." She looked at the clock. "You'll be home soon?"

"Yeah. Traffic's hell, but the pizza should still be warm when I get there."

"Good. Be careful."

"Yeah. See ya." The line cut off, and Carol put her phone down. She sighed and got up to take her empty wine glass to the kitchen. She figured while she waited, she'd unpack a few of her boxes. So, she headed up to her room and started rummaging through the boxes and boxes she'd packed up from her mother's place. When she came upon one of her scrap books, she couldn't help but smile at the pictures of her and Daryl and their goofy smiles on the cover. She sat down on the bed and started looking through the pages, watching herself and Daryl grow up before her eyes. She'd gone from a little girl with pigtails and freckles to a teenager with braces and a little too much makeup. Daryl had gone from a cute little kid with a bad haircut to a handsome young man who didn't carry the confidence most guys with his looks might have. He was awkward and quiet, and while the girls whispered about him and dreamed about him, he pretty much stuck with Carol through high school. They had a few mutual friends, including Michonne, but they generally gravitated toward one another.

His parents had died when he was in middle school, which had been a huge shock, but his older brother Merle had looked after him until he hit eighteen, which probably wasn't the best decision ever made by the courts, but he'd survived into adulthood, anyway. He and Carol had pretty much had each other. Carol's father had died when she was younger, and her relationship with her mother was strained. Her mother had the best of intentions but was often a little overprotective. It wasn't until Carol had graduated college that she felt her work was done and had decided to move on and give her daughter the space she needed to find her own footing in life.

He'd always been there for her. She remembered one of the only times they'd really fought, and it had been because he hated the idea of her dating Ed Peletier. She'd said more than a few things to him that still made her cringe to this day, but in the end, Daryl had turned out to be right all along about that jackass. Still, even after the arguing and the longest four days of Carol's life where she'd gone without speaking to her very best friend, when she'd shown up at his doorstep, mascara smudged and eyes red from crying, he'd invited her right in and listened to her pour her heart out over a pizza and a couple of sodas. He'd never said 'I told you so.' He'd been there for her, and that was the one good thing that had come out of her relationship with Ed Peletier: the knowledge that no matter what, no matter how mad they might get at one another, she and Daryl could always count on each other when the chips were down.

When Carol heard the whine of Daryl's brakes as he pulled into the drive, she put her scrap book away and headed downstairs to pour them each a glass of wine.

Daryl came in through the back door, juggling a pizza in one hand and his keys in the other.

"Honey, I'm home," he offered with a tired grin, getting a chuckle out of Carol. It was their new running joke. They had become so domestic lately.

"You're late. I'm starving," she sighed, feigning a dizzy spell with the back of her hand pressed against her forehead. Daryl put the pizza down on the counter, shrugged of his leather jacket and disappeared long enough to put it in the front closet. When he returned, Carol was grabbing a slice of pizza and sliding it onto her plate. "I've been looking forward to this all day." She lifted it and took a bite, moaning and licking her lips as Daryl eyed her from the doorway.

"You need a minute alone?"

"God, maybe. This is better than sex."

"Ouch. Feel sorry for the dude…oh wait, no I don't. He was a dick."

"I won't lie there," Carol replied, thinking about that horrible night with Ed Peletier in high school. "I've had better than that, though. Still, this pizza's got it beat." Daryl snorted at that, stepping up next to her and grabbing a slice of his own.

"You just ain't been with the right person." Carol turned to see the blush creeping into Daryl's face, and she gave him a little nudge in the ribs.

"You offering?" she teased, like they always did, though tonight, her chest tightened, and her breath hitched.

"Think I got a little energy left. You wanna go right now? I mean, it's been a minute, and I probably won't last long, and I probably won't be very good, but I'm willin' if you are." He put his pizza slice down and wiped his hands on his jeans before reaching for his belt buckle, still blushing like a virgin. Carol had really brought him out of his shell. As much as talking to her about sex always left him stumbling over his words, their constant back and forth had gotten more risqué over the years, but they always ended up laughing together in the end and settling down to watch a movie. Sometimes, he could even make her blush with his teasings. Still, it had never gone further than that. It was always what they did, never any intention behind it.

Carol paused for a moment, her gaze traveling down to where Daryl's hands froze on his belt buckle. She watched his chest jerk like he'd been caught off guard, and then her gaze flew up to meet his.

"You ok?" he asked. "I thought we were just joking around. You wanna talk about somethin'?"

"What? I'm ok."

"Nah, you're bein' weird."

"How am I being weird?" she snorted, grabbing a glass and taking a big sip of wine.

"I say somethin' wrong?" he asked, feeling more self-conscious. "I mean, we do this thing, and one of us finally says 'stop,' and it doesn't get weird, but now it's weird. Shit."

"Daryl, stop," Carol laughed. "Sorry. I'm tired. It's been a day. But, you know, your offer for bad sex and premature ejaculation is tempting." She winked at him, and Daryl let out a laugh. He looked relieved now, but she could still feel that tightness in her chest. She took another sip of wine and shrugged it off, chalking it up to Michonne stirring the pot again and bringing up things that often kept Carol awake in the darkest parts of the night, anyway.

"You're already a glass ahead of me," Daryl pointed out. "Go put your feet up. I'll bring the pizza and grab the good stuff." He reached into the cupboard for a bottle of whisky. "Sound good?"

"Yes, please," she chuckled. "Though, I think maybe you're just trying to liquor me up." Daryl smirked at that and nudged Carol's shoulder with his own.

"Go on. I'll be right behind ya." Carol gave her friend a hug before turning and disappearing into the living room. Daryl stood there for a few moments after she'd gone and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. He took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in his throat. His skin still felt on fire from her hug. He was pretty sure the tips of his ears were permanently red from embarrassment, from pushing himself further out of his shell to make her laugh. He couldn't believe some of the things that had come out of his mouth. Growing up with a brother like Merle, he was surprised he wasn't more like him, but he figured if he was, he never would have made such a good friend in Carol. She had challenged him and changed him in all the best ways, and though he knew she didn't take him seriously, his jokes were just a mask to hide his real feelings, something he was terrified of her ever getting wind of. He had been in love with her for longer than he could remember, but he knew she deserved better. He knew she would probably find someone better than him. Still, it didn't stop him from loving her, and he figured that he was destined to live out this life pining away from her and hiding his feelings behind those teases. Anything to make her laugh. In reality, he feared that if she knew how he truly felt, he might just lose her for good.

"Daryl?" Her voice was soft but snapped him from his thoughts. "You coming?"

"Yeah," he choked out, clearing his throat and gathering up the pizza and whisky. "Right behind ya."