Arlene's POV
Nicholson woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. She sits perched at the edge of her mattress, dark hair sticking up at wild angles, wearing the kind of scowl that could curdle milk. It reminds me of the death glare Everly Krista shot me when Warner officially terminated her employment. He actually had the nerve to get his father involved, hoping the older man could convince me to reconsider my decision. But my mind was made up. Everly's hostile attitude had no place around the people I needed to build relationships with, especially when my son was involved.
"You feeling alright, sweetheart?" I crouch down in front of her, holding the outfit I selected for today's activities.
"I got an ouchie," she mumbles, rubbing at her sleepy eyes with tiny fists. I press my palm against her forehead, checking for fever, but her skin feels cool to the touch.
"If you want to stay in bed, we can skip training with Warner today," I offer gently. "No pressure."
