watch me rule the world in shoes i cannot walk in

Blair was much less forgiving than Forrest was, and had cackled in downright glee when he let her read the messages between himself and, well, Candy. She’d pressed his phone back into his chest, her whole body shaking with poorly-suppressed laughter as she insisted that he didn’t need to operate on a moral compass with this particular applicant. He’d tried to see the funny side of things, but after yet another failed interview with a kindly old woman named Muriel who, for all intents and purposes, couldn’t have been less of a ‘Candy’, he began to wonder if the woman who’d bulldozed her way into his inbox without a hint of professionalism was actually about to be his only hope.

The rest of the candidates had been… fine. On paper, they’d been fine. In person, they hadn’t even come off that badly. Except for the fact that Robin hadn’t taken to any of them. Even with Muriel, who gave off the most stereotypical British nanny vibes Forrest had ever seen, Robin had screwed her face up, hot tears leaking from her eyes and wailed something awful. He’d never been able to see his baby girl in distress and just turn away, so he’d surged forward, picking her back up from Muriel’s arms and smiling sheepishly at the disgruntled look on the older woman’s face.

“I’ll be in touch by the weekend,” he’d promised her, ushering her out the door so he could try and calm his daughter down.

Now, it was Thursday morning, and he’d pushed back his shift at the docks by an hour so he could interview Candy. His sister’s assessment of the woman was less than favourable, which seemed unfair about someone she hadn’t even met. But that was Blair all over. She was quick to judge, and even quicker to cement her opinion in place.

Feeling defeated and altogether unenthusiastic about the appointment that morning, Forrest’s shoulders slumped when he heard the buzzer of his apartment building go off. Delicately untangling Robin’s chubby fist from the material of his sweater, he set her down on the mat in her playpen then moved over to his door, buzzing Candy in.

Raking a hand through his hair, he glanced around his apartment, only half-satisfied with how it looked. It was clean, but cluttered. Full of Robin’s baby toys, because his mom and Blair and even Daff had failed to adhere to Forrest’s ‘don’t spoil her’ rule. His kitchen table was a mess of seashells and sea glass that he hadn’t sanded down to safe corners yet, and his bright yellow raincoat was slung over the arm of the sofa. Not the best first impression, but he’d already (perhaps way too preemptively) decided that Candy probably wasn’t going to be sticking around for long enough to glean a lasting impression about his poky little apartment.

As soon as he heard a knock on the other side of his door, he braced himself. Blair had already decided that Candy would be blonde and have a face loaded with filler. The term ‘blowjob lips’ had floated around until Forrest shut her down with a glare. But he hadn’t been able to stop his sister from declaring, “And I bet she has massive…” before cupping her hands exaggeratedly around invisible, what Forrest would only describe to be, airbags in front of her chest.

Pulling open the door, his heart sank a little when he realised that Blair had been bang on the money with the blonde thing. He didn’t know what filler looked like, if he was honest, so he couldn’t say if he was correct on that. As for the rest of his sister’s prediction, Forrest carefully kept his eyes up.

“Hi. Candy, yeah?” he asked, before his expression tilted into confusion. He blinked, head rearing back a fraction as he took in the woman in front of him. There was something about her that was so distinctly familiar, and he knew it couldn’t possibly be from the mental image Blair had conjured up.

“Um…” he said, dumbly before collecting himself and opening the door wider for her. “Come in.”

He continued to frown as he let her in, a niggling feeling tugging at the back of his memory as he tried to figure out where he’d seen her before.

Candice preened under her own words, fluttering her lashes as she appraised herself one final time in the mirror. She knew she looked totes cute in today’s ensemble, but it was always nice to remind herself with loud affirmations. She was wearing her favourite high-waisted, hot-pink shorts, tailored to exactly match her cutest suit jacket. The fit had come together perfectly, matched simply with a plain white tee. Today’s interview needed to go well, and she was dressing to impress. 

She looked hot, with pretty ringlets framing her face while her hair was pinned back into a perfectly curled ponytail, swishing delicately against her neck just the same as it had during her days as Cheer Captain. Whatever that grumpy gills Forrest thought of her, she was about to change his mind. Plus, babies like, loved bright colours, so she’d totally bet Robin would love her on sight. 

“Totes profesh, babes,” Joe nodded in approval as he came up behind her, arm circling his waist as he stared at them in the mirror. 

Or, rather, her boyfriend stared at himself in the mirror, as he was prone to do. Candice couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually looked at her with any real interest, but whatevs. She and her high school sweetheart looked sexy together, which was really all that mattered. Tipping her face to the side, she elegantly angled her jaw just so, allowing him to press a chaste kiss to her jawline. He gave her ass a light tap before disappearing off into the kitchen, without so much as an offer of good luck or, at the very least, a see ya later, doll. 

Candy pinched the leather strap of her Prada Galleria between her thumb and forefinger before hoisting it onto her shoulder, crinkling her nose as she felt the weight of her binder inside. Usually, the Peach Saffiano leather was home to the usual essentials – her compact, lip balm, and her trusty bottle of Coco Mademoiselle – but today she’d had to make space for her résumé, DBS check, photo ID, and just, like, a totally adorable photo of her bottle feeding her baby cousin. Just in case he wanted to see that, duh! 

She was not interested in muddling through the gritty New York subway, especially at such an ungodly hour, so she’d phoned ahead to have a car come pick her up and had put the expenses on Joe’s credit card. The diner did not pay well enough to suit her lifestyle, but she found ways to make do since her father had cut her off. She made it to Forrest’s apartment complex in good time and, with freshly manicured nails, gave his door a hearty knock. She needed to prove to this naysayer that she was, like, totally professional and could so do early mornings! He wouldn’t be doubting her for much longer, that was for sure. 

When the door swung open, Candy’s eyes widened at the sight of the man on the other side. He was a little tired looking, but mostly in that sexy, rugged way that had always endeared her to Levi and his ridiculous eight pack. She squeezed her thighs shut, sliding her feet together as she tried not to let her mind wander there, as she slid her lower lip between her teeth, delightedly appraising the certified daddy that was staring back at her. 

“Enchanté,” Candy smiled, batting her baby blues at the mention of her name. She didn’t speak a word of French, obvi, but she thought it made her sound slightly... alluring. 

Forrest was already frowning at her, so she decided to sidestep him entirely as she shimmied her way into his apartment. It was all topsy turvy, with toys littered everywhere. She supposed Luke would described it as lived in, which was kind of cute in a sort of quirky, poor person way! After giving the living room a quick once over, she twirled on the spot to face him, ready to make a great second impression. 

“Forrest, let me start by, like, totally apologising for getting off on the wrong foot, babe!” Candice started, letting her lips pucker into a soft pout. It was what Jude often called her sexiest look, Levi branding the current set of her mouth blowjob-esque, which she hoped worked in her favour. Usually, she could just bat her eyes and look impossibly gorgeous and men would forgive her anything. 

Forrest: Alright.

Forrest: [address]

Forrest: I really, really hope not.

[five minutes pass]

Forrest: Okay, fine.