“Oh!” Vanessa jumped, startled. “I didn’t hear you come in. Long day at the office, dear?”
“Yes, actually, it was.” He took off his glasses, pulled a microfiber cloth from the inside pocket of his jacket, and wiped the lenses clean. “So my patience for you is thinner than usual.”
Her eyes slid over him. “Always dressed like a gentleman, even at home. Do you wear your suit and tie right up until you go to bed?” she teased. “Or do you sleep in them too? You must; probably helps keep the stick up your ass firmly in place.”
He shot her a withering look, then crossed the room. The small wet bar was half-hidden by the enormous Christmas tree. He reached for the scotch and poured himself a dram. “So I hear you’re planning to be here for Christmas morning? Were you going to discuss that with me, since you invited yourself to my house?”
“About that . . .” She turned and walked slowly toward him. “Yes, I’d like to be here for that. I know you don’t want me here, and I’ve been staying at the hotel every night like you demanded. But yes, I’d really like to be here on Christmas Eve and stay over, so I can wake up with the kids on Christmas morning.” She bit down on her lip and added, “I haven’t had that with them in a long time.”
“Your own doing,” he said. His tone conveyed no sympathy or tolerance.
“I know that.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “When I spoke to them on Thanksgiving, they all sounded so different . . . They’re getting bigger. They’re growing up. And I’m missing it all.”
“Again, your choice.”
“I know that! Just get off your high horse for two minutes and let me speak, okay?” Her pale green eyes flashed as she brushed her sleek black hair back over her shoulders. “I came here only because I missed them. You don’t have to take shots at me every chance you get, Charles. I know I’m a shitty mother.”
“A shitty mother?” He smirked with cool disdain. “You’d have to actually be a mother to even qualify as a shitty one.” Raising the heavy glass to his lips, he took a swallow of scotch. She glared at him, obviously wanting to snap back, but holding her tongue. Wow, she must really want whatever she’s about to ask me for. “What do you want, Vanessa? Just say it.”
She drew a deep breath. “I’d like to sleep here on Christmas Eve, and stay for Christmas Day with the kids. And sleep over again that night. Then I’ll leave on the twenty-sixth, like I said I would.”
“Where are you off to then?” he asked. “Must have plans, or you wouldn’t be so amenable to keeping your word.”
“Saint Tropez,” she admitted quietly.
“Ah! That sounds more like you.” He took another sip, then loosened the knot of his tie. “I’ll allow you to come here and stay over on Christmas Eve. Not for you, but for the children, because they’d love to have you here. I don’t think Myles even remembers ever sharing a Christmas with you.”
Color darkened her face. “I know.”
He studied her, his head cocking to the side. “What’s this really about, Vanessa? I feel as if I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Just cut to the chase, and maybe we can work out whatever it is you’re really pushing for here.”
She met his eyes. “I have no agenda, Charles.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” he ground out.
“My kids don’t know me!” she cried. “That’s my fault, yes. And I’m not saying I’m going to sue you for partial custody, or that I’m even moving back to New York. I’m not. I just want to see them more. That’s all.”
He set his glass down on the bar and walked to her, his eyes never leaving her face. “Why do you suddenly care about the kids? You never have before.”
“That’s not true,” she whispered. “I’ve always loved them. I care. I just . . . wanted to do other things. Staying here with them when they were little . . . I was bored out of my mind, Charles.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You were at work all the time, sucking up to your father, getting ready to inherit the crown. I was here, with two and then three babies, going insane. I’m not . . .” She scowled, shifted her weight. “I’m not the ‘mommy’ type. I’m not good with babies. I’m better with bigger kids, where you can actually talk to them, you know?”
“No. I don’t know. Your kids are your kids.” He hoped he sounded lethal, but some things she said resonated more than he wanted to admit. She sounded an awful lot like his mother, thirty years before. He’d heard the arguments between his parents. He was the oldest; when his parents divorced and Laura was basically banished from her kids’ lives, Charles had already been fourteen. He’d heard her say eerily similar things to his father, on more than one occasion. It made his stomach churn. “You can stay for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I host Christmas Eve, so we’ll all be here, and you’ll have to deal with the rest of my family. Christmas morning, you can be here with the kids. But we go to dinner at my father’s, around three o’clock. You really want to see all the Harrisons, by all means join us.”
She visibly shuddered. “Think I’ll take a pass on that. I can have dinner here by myself. Then I can see the kids after they get home from your father’s, since I’ll be leaving the next day.”
“Do what you want.” He strode back to the bar, grabbed his glass, and knocked back the rest. “It’s been a long day, Vanessa. Help Lisette put the kids to bed, then leave.” He started to walk out of the living room.
“Charles,” Vanessa said.
He turned to look at her, an eyebrow arched, waiting.
“Thank you,” she said.
She actually seemed sincere. It didn’t matter if she was or not. He was being magnanimous for the kids, not for her. “Good night, Vanessa.”
He left the living room, turned, and almost smacked right into Lisette. “Hey, hi.”
“Hi,” she said softly. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. I came down to tell Vanessa the kids are ready for bed, but I couldn’t find her.”
With a flick of his chin, he gestured back over his shoulder. “She’s in there.”
“I figured, when I heard your voices.”
“Any news back from the doctor yet?” he asked, dropping his voice so Vanessa couldn’t hear. “The test results?”
She shook her head, but a hint of color bloomed on her cheeks. “Nope. Still waiting.”
Her blushes were her tell. Was she holding out on him? He had a gut feeling she wasn’t telling him something, and his gut rarely steered him wrong.
“I got a dress today,” she whispered. “It’s . . . extravagant.”
“For the gala?” He couldn’t hold back his smile. “Can’t wait to see it. I bet it’s gorgeous, and you’ll be stunning.”
“If I’m not hyperventilating,” she said. “I’m so nervous about going . . . You know I hate crowds, much less something like this.”
“Don’t be nervous. I’ll be right there with you. It’s going to be great.”
She gazed at him. “You’re really ready to tell the world about us?”
“Hell yes.” He reached up to grab the end of her long braid and curled the end around his finger. Leaning in closer, he whispered in her ear, “I’ll text you when I know Vanessa has left the house. So you can come to my room.”
She grinned and bit down on her lip. “Sounds good.”
* * *
The night before the ball, Charles made Vanessa wait alone in the den and took the kids up to his bedroom. “I need to talk to you guys,” he told them. “It’s important, and it’s kind of private. You guys can keep a secret for tonight, right?”
“Sure we can!” Myles yelped, excitement in his eyes.
“You can’t keep a secret to save your life,” Thomas sniffed.
“I can too!” Myles insisted as they got to the top of the second staircase.
“No, you can’t,” Thomas retorted.
“Don’t fight,” Charles said calmly.
“Is everything okay, Daddy?” Ava asked.
He glanced at her. She looke
d apprehensive. “Yes, sweetie, everything’s fine. I promise. Come on.” He ushered the three kids down the hall, into his room, and closed the door behind them. Lisette stood in the middle of the room, twisting her hands. He tossed her a wink, meant to reassure. He could almost see the waves of nervousness coming off of her.
“What’s going on?” Ava asked.
“Sit down, you guys,” Charles said, nudging them toward the wide loveseat beside the window. He pulled the chair from the corner over so Lisette could sit facing them, and sat on the arm of the chair. “Everyone comfortable?”
“Are we in trouble for something?” Thomas asked, looking from one adult to the other.
“Is this about Mom?” Ava asked.
“No, and no,” Charles said firmly. “Everything’s fine. It’s really good, actually.” He took a deep breath, gazing at his three kids. Please God, let this go well. “Lisette and I just wanted to tell you something.”
“The thing is,” Lisette said, her voice a little higher and more breathless than usual, “we have some news, and we wanted you guys to be the first ones to know.”
“Awesome!” Myles chirped.
“You don’t even know what it is,” Thomas said, rolling his eyes at his little brother.
“But we’re the first!” Myles said. “I like that.”
Ava sat silently, her eyes filled with worry.
“So . . . about two months ago,” Charles began, “Um . . . Lisette and I started spending a little time together. In a way that was different than usual. Because we . . . started becoming friends. I really like her, and she likes me. We get along well, and—”
“Are you like boyfriend-girlfriend now?” Ava cried, eyes wide.
Lisette laughed softly, even as she blushed. She looked to Charles.
He nodded as he grinned at the kids. “Well, yes, actually. We are. And I know that may be a little confusing, since Lisette is your nanny. But we . . . we’re going to be together, but we wanted you three to know first.”
“This . . . is weird,” Thomas said, looking from one to the other.
“I think it’s romantic,” Ava said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“What do you know about romance, young lady?” Charles demanded jokingly.
“I know things,” Ava said. She stared at them. “I . . . I like this. If you two are happy, then I’m happy.”
Lisette’s breath caught, and she looked up at Charles in wonder.
“Sometimes,” Charles marveled at his daughter, “you seem like you’re nineteen instead of nine, I swear.”
“I’m not confused at all,” Myles proclaimed with a big smile. “I get two mommies now.”
Charles and Lisette were both dumbstruck. Before they could say anything, Myles hopped up from the loveseat and flung himself at Lisette, hugging her. “I already love you, so this is great!”
Lisette’s eyes closed as her arms wrapped around the boy. Tears slid down her cheeks. “I love you too,” she whispered against his ear.
Charles was so moved, he didn’t think he could speak.
“I don’t need a replacement mom. Is that what this is going to be like?” Thomas said.
“What?” Charles blinked. “No. We’re not getting married or anything; we only just started dating seriously a few weeks ago.”
“You’ve been dating for weeks,” Thomas said, “and you’re only telling us now?”
“Because we wanted to wait,” Charles said, “to make sure this was going to work. Going to be something serious enough to share with others. Do you understand?”
“No, and I don’t care.” Thomas stood up and headed for the door. “Can I go now?”
“No,” Charles said to his son, springing up. “Wait, please.”
“Why?” Thomas scowled. “You’re together, okay, fine. Why does it have to be a big secret?”
“Well, it doesn’t, really,” Charles hedged, “now that you three know. But, um . . .”
“Thomas.” Lisette released Myles, brushed away her tears quickly, and went to him. “There are some people who might think this situation is as weird as you do. And they may not be very nice about it.”
“Like who?” Thomas asked.
Like my father, Charles thought. Like the snotty moms of your friends at school. Like maybe even some of your friends. This was what Lisette had been worrying about. Why hadn’t that fully hit him before now? Why hadn’t he listened?
“Like people who think a man as busy as your father,” Lisette said, “shouldn’t be making time for someone like me.”
“What does that mean?” Thomas said, his growing frustration obvious.
“It means snobby people,” Ava said. “I’ve seen movies and TV shows. Even when the girl from the streets gets the prince, people are mean to her about it.”
“Well, I’m not from the streets,” Lisette said, slightly amused. “And I can handle it if people are mean to me. I don’t want them to say things that might hurt you guys, though. That’s what worries me.”
Ava shrugged. “I’ll ignore them. I don’t like mean people.”
“And I’ll beat ’em up!” Myles said, flying into his best ninja moves.
Lisette looked at Thomas. “Honey . . .” She knelt before him. “You look angry. Are you?”
“A little bit,” he said, looking at the floor.
“Can you tell me why?”
He shrugged.
“Tell me,” Lisette coaxed gently. “Go ahead.”
“Our mom left because she didn’t want to be our mom,” he grumbled. “If you become our mom, and we’re bad, are you going to want to leave too?”
“Why would you think that?” Lisette asked, her tone still gentle and calm. She placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Well, if you’re our nanny, you have to stay because Daddy pays you to,” Thomas said. “But if you become our new mom, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. Our real mom didn’t. Why would you?”
Charles swallowed hard, the lump in his throat lodged so tightly he could barely breathe. His eyes stung. But he managed to say, “Your mom didn’t leave because of anything you kids did, Thomas. She, uh . . .” He cleared his throat. “She and I weren’t right for each other. And she . . . was overwhelmed, so she thought it would be better for you kids if she wasn’t around. She was doing it for you.”
Thomas’s eyes welled with tears. “I don’t believe you.”
“She’s downstairs,” Lisette said quietly. “Why don’t we go talk with her? I think if you said some of these things you’ve been thinking, and hear some answers from her, it might make you feel a lot better.”
Thomas’s eyes flew wide, and he shook his head. “No, I don’t want to upset her. She’ll leave again, and next week is Christmas. We haven’t had a Christmas with her since . . . well, I don’t remember.”
“She won’t leave before Christmas,” Charles said gruffly. “I promise.”
Thomas looked at Lisette. “Everything was fine the way it was. Why does it have to change?”
“Sweetheart,” Lisette said, almost in a whisper. “I love you kids. More than you can imagine. All I can promise you is that will never change.”
“Even if you and Daddy break up?” Thomas challenged.
“Even then,” Charles said. “That hopefully won’t happen, but even if it doesn’t work out between us, she will still be your nanny, and still be in your lives. I promise. Okay?”
Thomas looked at his father, then back at Lisette. “This is weird,” he whispered.
“I know. But maybe a little bit good weird?” Lisette said hopefully.
A long pause . . . then Thomas nodded. “Maybe.”
“Can I hug you?” she asked him.
He nodded again. She wrapped him in her embrace and hugged.
Myles ran and jumped into Charles’s arms, and Charles gave a little laugh as he did. He looked over to his daughter. “Ava? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, rising f
rom the loveseat. “I think it’s awesome. Lisette’s already like part of the family. Now she really can be, right?”
“Come here, you.” Charles held out an arm to Ava, who went to him and nestled into his side.
Thomas untangled himself from Lisette’s embrace. “Does Mommy know about your being boyfriend-girlfriend? Or is that why you want us to keep it a secret for tonight?”
“Kind of,” Charles admitted. “But you know what? If you feel you want to talk about it with her, go ahead.”
“Nah,” Thomas shrugged. “She already doesn’t like Lisette. I’m not going to make her any madder.”
Charles heaved a hard sigh. “Okay then.” He looked over the kids’ heads to Lisette, who was wiping tears from her face. He shot her a small smile. She only stared back at him, glassy-eyed and flushed, unreadable.
“I’m going to go lie down for a while,” Lisette said to them all. “I know your mom’s waiting downstairs; maybe I’ll take a little nap while you hang out with her.”
The kids, seemingly fine, left Charles’s room and went back down to Vanessa. Charles closed the door as Lisette headed for it, gripping her shoulders. “Talk to me.”
“I’m on overload,” she whispered. “I need to lie down; I wasn’t kidding.”
“My bed’s right there,” he said, flicking his chin in its direction.
She looked over at it, then back up at him. Her eyes filled with fresh tears. “Too much too soon,” she said, sniffling. “I need to process the things they said. I mean . . . God, Charles, did you hear him?”
“I thought I’d burst into tears there for a minute,” he admitted roughly.
“I couldn’t hold mine in,” she whispered. “That poor, sweet boy.”
He pulled her in, holding her close. “He’s been thinking those things, hurting that badly, all this time, and I had no idea what was in his head. Jesus, Lisette, I’m a terrible father.”
“No, you’re not,” she said, letting her arms circle his waist. “But do you realize what you promised them? Even if we don’t work out, you promised I’d always stay. We can’t promise them that.”
“I said what you did.”
“No, no, you didn’t. I promised them I’d always love them, because that’s a promise I can keep.” She pulled back. “People do leave, Charles.”
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