Daddy's Contract : A Single Dad and Nanny Romance

by Melissa Chetley

  Maybe this is something that I should make clear to her later on before she begins to fill herself with false expectations and hopes for the future. Because if there's one thing I don't plan on doing for the time being, it's getting remarried.

  Jenna eventually notices my unusual silence and grabs my wrist to caress it. "You're awfully quiet, Noah. Is everything okay?" she asks with a concerned look. Her sudden question and worried tone of voice draws the attention of both Hugo and Grace who also seem slightly puzzled by my lack of conversation.

  "Everything is fine, but it seems that I have some other matters to attend to that just recently came up out of nowhere. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to cut this dinner meeting short. I'm really sorry about this," I apologize with a sullen shake of my head. "The least I can do for you guys is cover the bill for tonight, so you can still enjoy the rest of your night."

  "Oh, that's no problem. Don't even worry about it. If you need to head out, we totally understand where you're coming from. We know you're a busy man, Noah," Hugo nods his head in absolute understanding and empathy of the situation. However, the same can't be said for Jenna who looks visibly irritated by my unexpected announcement.

  "Noah, we've been planning this dinner for weeks now. You know how much I was looking forward to tonight, and you promised that work wouldn't get in the way of our night together. So did something important actually happen?" Jenna inquires with a hint of frustration in her voice. She crosses her arms with a slight pout on her face and waits for my response. It doesn't seem like she believes that there's an actual emergency which I have to leave right now to handle. But even if I tell her the truth which I have no choice but to do, the sour expression on her face won't change.

  "It's Taylor. She's giving the nanny a bit of a rough time, so I need to head back home and sort the issue out," I plainly state.

  Before I can even finish, Jenna almost immediately scoffs and rolls her eyes when she hears my reasoning. There's a smug "I knew it" expression spread across her face. "Can't you just let Taylor throw her little tantrum for one night? She's not going to stop doing it until you learn to let it go. You're just spoiling her at this point by giving in every time, Noah," she bitterly exclaims.

  "It's not that easy, Jenna. The nanny called me because she can't find Taylor-"

  "It's fine. Let's just go," she interjects as she quickly gets up from her seat with her belongings in hand. I can feel the resentment brewing in her silence as she walks over to give her farewells to our guests. "Bye, Hugo. Bye, Grace. I hate to leave like this, but it seems like I don't have much of a choice. It was great to see you guys again."

  "No worries, Jenna. It's always a pleasure to see you as well. There will always be next time, so don't give Noah too much grief over it. A man's got to do what a man's got to do after all," Hugo grins as he goes in to hug her.

  The blonde beauty beams as though she completely understands the unfortunate circumstances while the unsatisfied expression on her face says otherwise. And even as we're leaving the restaurant and waiting for the valet to bring the car over, she stubbornly refuses to meet my gaze. Her eyes simply prefer to stare at the bright screen of her cell phone. But appeasing Jenna's unhappiness is the last and furthest thing on my mind right now, especially since I have a missing daughter to look for.

  I don't care about how much she resents me for ruining her night. And I definitely don't care about how much she thinks I'm spoiling my only daughter by rushing to her rescue each time she's in trouble. The only thing I care about right now is Taylor's safety. Nothing else really matters to me.

  And when the valet finally drives up with my car, I quickly jump into the driver's seat and drive faster than I've ever driven in my entire life. I can see Jenna nervously watching me from the corner of my eye with each car that I swiftly and recklessly pass by as we weave through traffic. The red stoplights are the only things that are preventing me from going even faster, but my foot is always ready to push down on the gas pedal as soon as the light turns green. Just like clockwork, I stop when it's red and I go when it's green, following this pattern all the way through until the roads eventually carry me home.

  ***

  Where the hell are you, kid?

  The wet and cool feeling of my sweat-drenched dress shirt clings to my back as I loosely throw my head backward and slowly let out an exhale. An exhaustion is gradually settling into my body from the nonstop running around, but I can't allow the fatigue to win me over just yet. After checking the entire house from top to bottom more than once and calling out Taylor's name in an effort to pull her out of hiding, she's still nowhere to be found. The maids and the butlers have also thoroughly checked the surrounding outdoor areas around the swimming pool and the garden without any luck or trace of her, and I'm almost out of ideas as to where she might be.

  However, realizing that I might be standing in front of a dead-end is when the panic starts to set in. There's no sign of any of her clothes or toys missing, and there's also no accounts of anybody seeing her after she finished taking her bath. Even though there's the possibility of foul play at hand, any suspicion that I had surrounding the nanny who's most likely to be the culprit was cleared after witnessing her full cooperation and combing through her spotless background. And with no leads left to follow up on, I'm seriously beginning to believe that Taylor did somehow leave the house on her own.

  Think, Noah.

  Is there anywhere else in the house I might have missed on my search? A place where Taylor likes to particularly hide in when she wants to be alone? I've already checked the library with no avail and have even asked the neighbors if she stopped by their house. Every possible lead that I've considered with her in mind is a huge no. Though there's only one place in the house that stands out which I didn't think to check yet. But that's also because I know there's no way she can get up there by herself, especially since that room is locked at all times.

  No one is ever supposed to be up there, and everyone who works for me clearly knows and understands that. I forgot for a moment that the room was even there because I don't try to make an effort to head up there anymore, not since Elizabeth died. Considering it's the last place I haven't looked into for both obvious and personal reasons, I guess there's no harm in at least checking it out before I hand the case over to the police. Besides, I can't allow my discomfort of the locked room keep me from finding Taylor.

  If she's in there, I have to know.

  I take a deep breath and then begin my slow climb up the staircase to the third floor for what feels like the fourth time this past hour. Even though a huge part of me feels ridiculous for even heading upstairs when I know for a fact that she shouldn't be able to enter the locked room, a small part of me believes that she's somewhere in there. Taylor's always loved the calming smell of the oil paints on the easel and the ashy scent of the charcoal dust on Elizabeth's sketchbooks. She's told me in the past that the gentle aroma reminds her strongly of her mother, the young troublemaker constantly begging me to buy her art supplies despite never using them. Nonetheless, the familiar scent simply comforts her in ways I'll never be able to understand which is why the abandoned art studio is the only place I can imagine her seeking refuge in.

  My footsteps eventually reach the top of the steps where they suddenly stop and freeze in place. The unchanged door appears in front of me, its appearance exactly the same from when Elizabeth last left it. I hesitantly resume my walk toward the door where I can start to see Taylor's poorly-drawn on scribbles and pictures still carved into the wood and underneath the doorknob. The sight of her terrible artwork puts a pained smile on my face as I place my hand on the door handle with the expectation of the door already being unlocked.

  But when I try to turn the knob, my hand is met with the sound of a click and a strong resistance. The door is still locked with no signs of tampering. Although it seems pointless, I naturally take out my set of keys and find the one with the special dog key cover on it which happens to be
chosen by Taylor. I have to see this through and open the door for the sake of closure that's not only in regards to Taylor's strange disappearance, but with Elizabeth's death as well.

  I've avoid this place for long enough. It's time to open it up.

  The door unlocks with a slight click as I turn the key to the side. I bite my lip and push the doorway open while the light from the hallway slowly pierces into the dark room. My eyes follow the small cone-like path created by light where I eventually come to find the missing girl fast asleep in the center of the room and on the floor. She covers her eyes and softly groans as the bright hallway light remains on her face.

  An emotional mix of relief and disbelief immediately rushes through my body to overwhelm me once I realize that I've found her. I can't help but feel glad that she's okay, yet also like a complete fool at the same time for worrying about nothing. She's been right here the whole time and she didn't bother telling the nanny where she was going. It's completely irresponsible, and my anger and frustrations can't overlook another one of her childish decisions which clearly seem like harmless acts to her. She's caused way too much unnecessary worry and stress for everybody involved in her search for her behavior to get a pass.

  I call out to the sleepy child to wake her up while my loud footsteps tread across the room: "Taylor."

  "Daddy?" the little girl asks as she gets up to rub her tired eyes. Seeing the dazed look on her face as she innocently stares at me tells me that she has absolutely no idea what's going on at all.

  "Taylor, what are you doing in here by yourself? How did you even get in here when the door is supposed to be locked?" I question her with a deeply furrowed brow.

  "I found mommy's key in one of her drawers." She pulls a key out from underneath the blanket that's laying on top of her and proudly shows it to me with a big smile on her face. But it's only when she sees that my enthusiasm isn't returned that the clever smirk disappears from her lips.

  "Am I in trouble?"

  "Yes, you're in big trouble. I thought you promised me that you would stop getting into trouble. Do you know how worried I was when I heard that you went missing? Not a single person in the house could find you. I almost had to call the police because I thought you ran away again."

  My cheeks flush while my body temperature grows hotter with each heated word that spills from my mouth. I can't control the rage that flows out of me once I start scolding her. Yet the angry tone of my voice causes her large brown eyes to widen with fear. She bites down on her lower lip while her hand subconsciously squeezes the blanket sitting on her lap. Her expression couldn't be more afraid than it already looks right now.

  After minutes of sitting in tense silence, Taylor eventually musters up the courage to reply to me in a small voice: "I'm sorry."

  But hearing her apology isn't good enough for me. There's only so much saying sorry can do for someone before the word begins to lose its original meaning.

  "If you're really sorry like you say you are, then why do you keep breaking your promise to me? I just don't get it. Why do you have to make things so hard for me?" I bitterly exclaim with a firm shake of my head.

  Taylor keeps her head lowered down and toward the floor while I vent my frustrations to her. Even though I can't see her face, I can tell that she's beginning to cry from the large amount of sniffling and face wiping that she's doing with her hands. However, no matter how hard she tries to stay strong during the tense situation, she can't prevent all the droplets from running down her face and falling onto her lap. And when the waterworks really start to grow out of hand for her, she frantically brings her knees up to her chest and hugs them close to her body in an attempt to hide her tears and her shame.

  It's not before long that I hear her wailing cries break out from between the tight clasp of her hands which is covering her wet face.

  "I just feel so sad and lonely all the time!" Taylor admits with a loud sniveling sob. Her childish voice is completely choked up as she tries to express her unstable emotions to me. Each time she opens up her mouth to speak, the sound of her pained cries roll out instead of her words. "You're never home, and I hate it. I hate being home alone...I miss mommy. All I want is for her to come back!"

  Taylor's vocal desire for Elizabeth's physical presence forces her to cry even harder than she was doing before. Her tiny body is practically shaking and trembling in pure agony while her anguished tears pour out of her eyes. Any shred of resentment that I held toward the sobbing child is gone once I hear her impossible demand. There's no way I can ever bring Elizabeth back to life. She's gone, and that's that.

  A heavy sigh escapes me as I helplessly listen to the haunting sound of Taylor's tormented cries. I can feel my heart begin to ache and falter from the gasping and heaving sight of her small body struggling to catch its breath. She tries to calm down and slowly breathe, but her attempts are met with strong choking fits in which her face turns red all over from the painful coughs. The vicious cycle of her hysterical crying followed by her desperate struggles to cease her sobbing only leaves Taylor in even more suffering than before.

  Fuck.

  It seriously pains and hurts my heart to see Taylor in such distress over the seemingly innocent decisions I make without taking her feelings into consideration. But I guess a casual night out with Jenna isn't as harmless as it sounds when I'm dealing with a 6-year old kid who's yearning for her parents' love and affection. God, I can't believe that she's been harboring all of this sorrow inside of her heart the whole time and I somehow never noticed a single hint of her loneliness or her grief. It's pathetic.

  How can I even call myself a father when I don't even realize when my own daughter is in pain? Elizabeth would definitely be disappointed and would absolutely reprimand me without any restraint if she knew about my negligence. But I don't need to imagine her firm disapproval to recognize and own up to my mistakes. I'm the only one who can still physically show Taylor that I love and care for her -- and that's something she needs to feel right at this very moment when she's at her lowest point. Only I can wipe away those sorrow-filled tears which are streaming down her face.

  I immediately move to pull Taylor into my arms and place her head against my chest. "I'm sorry, Taylor. I didn't know how lonely you were," I softly speak with a heavy heart. A dull pain in my chest throbs as I lower my cheek down to rest it against her head.

  "I miss her a lot, too," I quietly add.

  My reluctant confession leaves an extremely bittersweet sensation in my heart while the sound of Taylor's wailing voice grows louder. There's clearly an empty void in both of our hearts which hasn't been mended yet in spite of all the time that has passed since Elizabeth's death. I keep thinking that things will naturally get better on its own with each passing day that goes by without her, but it's that kind of ignorant mindset which has Taylor completely brokenhearted in my arms. She's not getting any better or any closer to accepting the loss of her mother. And my lack of presence in her life isn't doing her any favors either.

  Maybe all the decisions that I thought were best for Taylor weren't right at all. Maybe I'm just not fit to be a parent like I thought I was -- but hell, what choice do I have now? I'm all she has left. And it's time for me to step it up and become a real father to her before I end up regretting it later on.

  I swear that I won't let Taylor down anymore.

  I'm going to make things right, and I already know the first step I'm going to take to achieve it.

  Cassie - 6

  Ugh…

  The irritable ringing tone of my cell phone instantly shatters the pleasant lull of the deep sleep that I was indulging in. I miserably toss and turn in my bed while the loud vibrating rattle and noisy sound of my ringtone continually chimes without end. When I finally realize that it's faster to simply answer the phone call instead of letting the annoying ringtone ring all the way, my hand shoots out from underneath the comforter to find the phone on my nightstand. After running my hand into some items and also knocking
a few things off the counter, I safely secure the cell phone within my grasp and quickly answer it.

  "Hello?" I mumble with my eyes still closed.

  An ultra cheery female voice greets me on the other end of the line: "Hello! Is this Cassie Hart that I'm speaking with today?"

  Hearing the overly peppy and positive tone of her voice makes me feel even more tired than I was before. "Uhh, yeah… That's me," I respond with a slight yawn as I rub the corners of my eyes.

  "Perfect! Now I know this is a little last minute, but I'm calling to let you know that Mr. Bishop has an open slot in his schedule for you at 10 o'clock to discuss the details of your employment if you wish to take the job."

  My heart practically jumps up while my eyes shoot wide open in pure surprise. Did I just hear her correctly or am I still dreaming? Am I seriously being offered a job right now after how terrible the interviews went? This has to be a dream.

  "J-job?" I stutter.

  "Yes, is there a problem? I mean, I understand if you can't make it because the scheduled meeting time is cutting it a bit close since it's almost-"

  "No!" I suddenly interject as I quickly sit up from my bed. The unexpected excitement and disbelief in my system gets the best of me as I swiftly clear my throat to continue speaking. "It's no problem at all. I can definitely do 10 o'clock. Whatever time is it, I can be there."

  An uneasy feeling creeps up on me as my gaze shifts toward the clock that's hanging on the wall. It's almost 9 AM which means there's only an hour left before the meeting actually takes place. Considering I still have to shower, brush my teeth, do my makeup, and get appropriately dressed for the occasion, I'm going to have to seriously haul ass if I want to make this appointment without being late. The possibility of me pulling this off perfectly is incredibly low, but I have to do it -- even if it does mean cutting a few corners here and there.

  "All right, great! Mr. Bishop will be waiting for you at the Providence at 10 o'clock, then. I'll let him know that you're onboard with the meeting," the bubbly voice replies.