Such Great Heights

by Sydney Logan

  “You’re sure about this?”

  Hazel smiles. “Absolutely. Enjoy your day with your friends. We’ll be fine.”

  I decide to trust her. After all, it’s just one day, and Ryder will have to get used to not having me around when school starts.

  If I stay, that is.

  Tomorrow will be the end of my first week. Will Mr. Healey ask me to stay? Do I want him to? I think about the time I’ve spent with Ryder. How his eyes light up when I introduce him to a new toy, and how he’s finally letting me read to him at bedtime.

  I’m too attached. Already.

  I don’t know what I’ll do if Mr. Healey doesn’t ask me to stay.

  “Angel, you didn’t tell us this place is vegan.” Dana glares in my direction. “Did you know this place is vegan?”

  “I did not.” I gaze wide-eyed at the menu.

  Angel ignores us. “You must try the Thai Ginger Tofu. Oh! And the Curried Chickpea Salad Wrap is amazing.”

  The waiter arrives to take our order. I decide to play it safe and order the veggie soup and a garden salad. Dana follows my lead.

  Angel rolls her eyes. “You guys are so boring. I’ll have the sesame kale wrap with rice and a side of Asian slaw. Thanks, Eric.”

  Eric?

  Eric flashes her a crooked grin before taking our menus and heading back to the kitchen.

  Something tells me Angel’s not here for the vegan cuisine.

  Dana leans close to me. “I’m gonna need a burger after this. A real one. Made of meat.”

  I nod.

  “They have burgers here,” Angel says.

  “No, they don’t.” Dana turns her attention back to me. “So, how’s the nanny business? Jackson says you’re amazing.”

  “Really? Is that what he says?”

  “Yep. I’ve talked to him a few times this week. He absolutely sings your praises.”

  Angel smiles brightly. “See! We knew you could do this.”

  While we wait for our lunch, I tell them all about the progress we’ve made. Dana’s eyes fill with tears when I tell her about the trip to the toy store.

  “And what about my brother?” she asks.

  “What about him?”

  “What do you think of him?”

  “I think he’s very formal.”

  She frowns.

  “I mean, he’s polite. But very formal. I don’t see him much. Mostly just at dinner. Sometimes I worry that he regrets hiring me, but Hazel says I’m just imagining things.”

  She’s just about to say something else when our food arrives. Angel and Eric flirt while Dana and I inspect our soup.

  Dana eyes her bowl suspiciously. “Burger Shack. Swear on your life.”

  “You got it.”

  “And don’t let my brother get to you. He’s just moody.”

  “He has his reasons.”

  “Yeah, but he shouldn’t take it out on you. I mean, the way he goes on and on about you, it’s almost like—”

  Dana snaps her mouth shut.

  “Almost like what?”

  “Forget it. You know, this soup really doesn’t look that bad.”

  I narrow my eyes.

  “You ladies enjoy your lunch,” Eric says.

  Angel’s gaze follows Eric as he walks over to the salad bar.

  “Oh, I meant to ask him something about the slaw. Be right back.”

  We watch as our best friend makes her way over to the salad bar. The waiter’s face beams when he sees her approach.

  “Something about the slaw?” I laugh.

  “She’s so ridiculous,” Dana says with a grin.

  We make a valiant effort to eat the soup. It’s not terrible.

  “What did you mean, Dana?”

  “What did I mean about what?”

  “Don’t be cute. The way your brother goes on and on about me? It’s almost like what?”

  “I really shouldn’t say.”

  “Do you want Burger Shack or not?”

  She sighs. “Fine. He just . . . he really likes you, Olivia. He’s so impressed with your patience and your determination. His words, not mine. I’m surprised he hasn’t told you himself.”

  “Well, he hasn’t. The man says good morning, thank you, and good night. That’s it. That’s the extent of our conversations.”

  Except for that first night. The night he actually smiled.

  “Well, trust me. You’re doing a remarkable job. Don’t be surprised when he asks you to stay indefinitely. Because he’s going to.”

  I don’t even try to hide my smile.

  After stopping at Burger Shack, I drop Dana off at her apartment before heading back to the penthouse. I’m ready to hear all about Ryder’s day with his dad, but when I open the door and step inside, I’m not at all prepared for what I find on the floor.

  Ryder’s new toys.

  All of them.

  In pieces.

  Coloring books ripped to shreds.

  Crayons broken in half.

  Action figures missing arms and legs.

  “It’s been quite a day.”

  I look up to find Hazel—her eyes tired and full of tears.

  “What—”

  But I don’t finish my question, because I suddenly hear Ryder’s mournful scream echo from his bedroom.

  With my heart pounding, I race through the minefield of mangled toys and run to his room. I find Mr. Healey sitting on the carpet, with his son cradled in his arms. Rocking him back and forth, telling him that everything’s going to be okay.

  Tears flood my eyes as I survey the room. Everything’s a mess. Pages ripped out of his favorite books. Clothes tossed from one side of the room to the other.

  I choke back a sob, and Mr. Healey’s terrified eyes find mine. Instantly, I see his shoulders sag with relief.

  “See,” he whispers to his son. “I told you she’d come back. Look who’s here.”

  Ryder’s head snaps up, and his big blue eyes lock with mine.

  I drop to my knees beside them.

  “Hey, buddy.”

  The biggest smile I’ve ever seen erupts on the little boy’s face, and he jumps out of his father’s lap and wraps his arms around my neck. Tears stream down my cheeks, but I don’t close my eyes, because Mr. Healey is gazing at me with a look so tortured that it breaks my heart. He stares at me—straight through me—as if I’m the answer to his prayers.

  Ryder buries his face against my neck. “You left me.”

  My heart stops.

  “I’m back now. What happened to your toys?”

  Ryder hiccups as tears trickle down his cheek.

  “I broke ‘em. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  I gently wipe his tears before he buries his face against my neck once again. Cradling him in my lap, I rock him gently, kissing his forehead and telling him that everything’s okay now. After a few minutes, his sobs grow quiet, and I start to hum a lullaby. Mr. Healey still stares at me, his face a mask of quiet wonder and complete exhaustion. I finally have to look away—his piercing gaze just too much. Too beautiful. Too heartbreaking.

  When Ryder’s soft snores finally fill the air, Mr. Healey carefully lifts his son out of my arms and carries him to his bed. I pull back the blanket, and he gently lays him down. Mr. Healey kisses his son’s forehead. I do the same, and we take one last look at his beautifully broken boy before turning on the night light. I can’t bear to close the door. Mr. Healey must feel the same, because he leaves it open, and we follow each other out into the hallway.

  Without a word, we head to the living room. My knees hit the carpet, and I start picking up the toys that might possibly be salvaged. Mr. Healey joins me on the floor.

  “What happened?”

  Mr. Healey tries to attach a wheel to the John Deere tractor. “We had a great day. A perfect day, really. He loved the zoo. Absolutely loved it. Then we came home, and you weren’t here. He went nuts. Hazel finally just went to her room. She couldn’t take it. When he finally
wore himself out, he let me hold him. I tried everything. He’d almost fall asleep, and then he’d jerk himself awake and scream your name.”

  I bow my head. “He thought I’d left him. Just like—”

  “Just like his mother.”

  Tears flow down my cheeks. I can’t stop them.

  “Come here.” Mr. Healey climbs to his feet and offers me his hand. I take it, and he helps me up from the floor and leads me over to the sofa.

  The mess is just going to have to wait.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Healey. I shouldn’t have left.”

  “Stop calling me Mr. Healey. Please call me Jackson.”

  I nod.

  “Olivia, this isn’t your fault. It’s nobody’s fault. Ryder is very troubled. Very heartbroken. And he doesn’t know how to handle it. And I don’t know how to handle him. But I have to figure it out.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “He’s become quite attached to you.”

  “I’ve become attached to him, too.”

  “I need to know what you’re thinking. Tomorrow is day seven. I will completely understand if you want to leave. Ryder loves you, already. What happened today . . . I’ve never seen anything like it. Not even when Natasha left. But you’re not his mother, and I don’t expect you to make that kind of emotional commitment to him.” He glances around the room and sighs heavily. “You see what happened when he thought you were gone for good. I need to prepare myself if . . . if you plan to leave us.”

  I wipe my eyes. “Do you want me to go?”

  “Are you kidding? Olivia, you’ve done more with him in six days than I’ve been able to do in months. He adores you. You calm him. You calm me. If you were to leave . . . I honestly don’t know what I’ll do, but that’s not your problem. He’s my son, and I’ll get him the help he needs. But I need to know what I’m facing here. I have to know. Do you want to stay with us? Because if you don’t . . .”

  His voice trails off, but he doesn’t have to finish his thought.

  I understand.

  If I’m leaving, it’s best I go now.

  For a split second, I consider packing my suitcase. No one would blame me. All they’d have to do is take one look at this room to see how unstable the child truly is.

  But the mere thought of walking out that door makes me sick to my stomach.

  I can’t abandon him.

  I won’t.

  “I love him, too. And I’m not going anywhere.”

  Jackson’s eyes dance with relief and joy.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He smiles then—a heart-stopping, beautiful smile that takes my breath away. Our hands, still linked, suddenly become all I can focus on, because his fingers start trailing against my skin, causing goosebumps to erupt on my flesh.

  Jackson’s eyes flicker to my lips.

  “You’re so good with him. So good for him,” he says softly.

  “He’s good for me, too.”

  Jackson’s face inches closer to mine, and my entire body trembles when he trails his nose along my cheek. With a quiet gasp, I tilt my head, and he softly brushes his lips against my neck.

  “So good,” he murmurs.

  His hands find my waist, pulling me close. In the back of my mind, I hear a voice screaming this is wrong. That we can’t. That we shouldn’t. But his touch is electric, and it’s all I can do not to whimper when he teases my lips with his own.

  “Tell me to stop,” he whispers.

  We should stop, but instinct and emotion override logic.

  And I close my eyes.

  My mind is at war with my body.

  It’s too much. Too fast. We need to stop.

  The rational side of my brain understands this. But the other side—the frustrated and exhausted side—is now in control of my every move. My every thought. My every breath.

  I lift my hand and smooth her hair away from her beautiful face. So soft. I knew it would be, no matter how hard I’d tried not to imagine it. Her gorgeous green eyes are closed, but her lips part in silent invitation.

  I’m too tired to refuse. I simply don’t have the strength.

  “Livia . . . where are you?”

  A small, soft voice floats from down the hall. Her eyes dart open. Immense relief combined with crushing defeat vibrates through my body as my son’s voice registers in my ears.

  Instantly, the spell is broken.

  “I should go,” she says softly.

  And, in a flash, she’s gone. Out of my arms and running to my son.

  Completely bewildered, I quickly walk to my study and slam the door, resting my forehead against the cool, mahogany door as I try to catch my breath. When that doesn’t work, I head to the bar and pour myself a drink before collapsing in the leather chair. I drain the whiskey in one colossal swallow.

  What are you doing, Healey?

  I have no idea. I’ve had no clue since the woman walked into my house. For the first time in years, I’m attracted to a woman, and I have absolutely no idea what to do.

  You can’t do anything. That’s the problem.

  I crossed a line tonight. An imaginary but potent line in the sand that I’d drawn in my own head. From the moment she walked into my office on that very first day, I’d realized immediately that I would have to keep my distance if this arrangement was going to work.

  And I’d kept my distance . . . until tonight.

  It unnerves me, just how attracted I am to her. With her long blonde hair and deep green eyes, she’s breathtakingly beautiful. Even her boring T-shirts and jeans aren’t enough to hide how gorgeous she is. If anything, the fact that she doesn’t try to look beautiful makes her even more so.

  My attraction to her had been immediate . . . and strong.

  So strong that I’d tried to hide it by insulting her during the interview. But Olivia rose to the challenge and effectively put me in my place. It was impressive, knowing she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by me.

  But nothing could have prepared me for this past week. Watching her with my son has done nothing but make me want her more. With her quiet patience and sweet demeanor, Ryder’s behavior has improved so much. Most importantly, he’s happy. I’ve never seen my son smile more than he has these past few days.

  Until today, when he thought she was gone for good.

  Restraining my son so that he couldn’t do any more damage to the house or to himself had been, without question, the most heart wrenching experience of my life. Ryder would cry one minute and yell her name the next, and each shrill scream caused my heart to splinter just a little more.

  Then—like an angel—Olivia walked in, and all was right in his world.

  Watching him cling to her was an eye-opening experience for me. I’d failed my son in so many ways, but the worst was by not providing him with a loving mother. Natasha had never held our son and rocked him to sleep—not even when he was a baby. Ryder needed a mother who loved him. Someone who would quiet his tears. Someone who would let him play and eat and act like a little boy.

  Someone like Olivia.

  With a groan, I bury my head in my hands. We almost kissed tonight. Maybe it would have led to more. Maybe it wouldn’t have. The fact is . . . it can’t. For one thing, I’m still married. But most importantly, Ryder has to come first. Always. I can’t complicate the situation by falling for his nanny.

  It can’t happen.

  I won’t let it.

  Someone gently knocks on my door, and I know it’s her.

  “Come in.”

  Olivia opens the door slightly. “I . . . umm . . . just wanted to let you know he’s asleep.”

  “He’s okay?”

  “Just a bad dream.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Thank you for checking on him. And for . . . well, for everything.”

  With a nod, she steps inside and closes the door behind her. I remain silent as she sits down in a chair. Fear grips me as I brace myself, waiting for her to say she’s
reconsidered, and that her suitcase is packed. It would serve me right, but it would also destroy my son.

  “Jackson, I think we need to talk.” Her voice shakes slightly—the only indication that she’s nervous. “If this is going to work, I think we need to establish some . . . limits.”

  She’s so brave, drawing her own lines in the sand.

  “Olivia, I owe you an apology.”

  “You don’t. Nothing happened.”

  “But it could’ve. And it can’t.”

  “You’re right, of course. Do you think . . . maybe we were just caught up in the moment? You’ve had such an emotionally draining day. We both have.”

  It would be easy to blame my lapse of judgment on this dreadful day. But does she really believe that? Or is she trying to convince herself—and me—that we hadn’t felt a thing?

  “Is that what you think?” I ask.

  Olivia’s face flickers with emotion before she settles her gaze on her hands in her lap.

  “Maybe.”

  Maybe. The word hangs in the air, just waiting for me to grab it and hold on for dear life. To agree that maybe it didn’t mean anything. That maybe we were just overwhelmed and looking for any small amount of comfort we could find.

  Maybe is a gift. A life raft. A chance to save my son from drowning.

  I take it.

  “Maybe so,” I whisper.

  Does she believe me? I have no idea. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she stays.

  “I want to stay,” she says, reading my mind.

  “Good. Because we want you to stay.”

  She nods and slowly rises from her chair.

  “Goodnight, Jackson.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Lost in thought and unable to sleep, I head to the living room and sit down at the piano. I lift the cover and let my fingers drift softly across the keys, hoping the music will relax my troubled mind.

  It’s been a horrible day.

  It’s been a horrible summer.

  Most husbands would’ve been humiliated when their wife suddenly packed her bags and walked out the door.

  But not this husband. I’d felt nothing but relief.

  Natasha and I started dating our junior year of high school. We weren’t the most likely of high school hookups, considering I was a complete nerd and she was captain of the cheerleading squad. But my family’s money made me popular, and Natasha set her sights on me right around prom time. That night, we spent exactly ten minutes inside the gym—just long enough for photos—before heading back to the car my parents had rented for us. I lost my virginity that night, right there in the back of that limo.