Deal Breaker: Billionaire Bosses

by Tara Leigh

  I grinned. “Highlight of my day.” That, and kissing Nixie.

  Suddenly Parker noticed the wrapped package peeking out from the oversized paper bag at my feet. “Is that for us?” he asked, pointing excitedly and wriggling to escape my grasp.

  Madison turned guileless blue eyes on her brother. “Of course it is, silly. Uncle Nash loves giving us presents.” Turning back to me, she flashed a gummy smile. “Uncle Nash is the bestest.”

  A familiar combination of guilt and glee pressed against my chest as I gave her a squeeze. Would I always feel like a thief, stealing my brother’s children?

  Still carrying Madison, I followed Parker as he dragged the purloined package down the hall and into the living room. “Can I open it now?”

  “Wait for me!” Madison launched herself from my arms and scurried over to her brother’s side.

  “Have at it, you two,” I said, giving Eva a peck on the cheek and closing the door behind me as they tore through the gift wrap. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

  “They are obsessed with the red pandas at the Central Park Zoo. I thought we could grab a bite near there, see the pandas and finish off with some ice—”

  “Mommy, Mommy, look what Uncle Nash got us!”

  As Madison and Parker lifted the brightly colored boxes containing presents Simmons had sworn would be Eva-approved, I felt a wave of appreciation for my assistant.

  “I see. Is there something you’d like to say to your very generous uncle?”

  “Thank you, Uncle Nash,” they said, each one rushing over to wrap themselves around a leg.

  I tousled their dark heads. “Anytime. Now, who’s going to lead me to the pandas?”

  “Me! Me!” They chanted, until Eva told them to get their shoes and coats on.

  As the twins dove into the coat closet, Eva turned to me. “Tell Katherine I said thank you as well.”

  I threw her a sheepish smile. “Better her than Jay.”

  She looked skyward. “Don’t you dare. We’d wind up with a drum set and a motorized Jeep.”

  The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur as we toured the zoo, including the pandas. While Eva took Madison to the bathroom and Parker engaged in a staring contest with a snow leopard, I sent a quick text to Nixie. Nash: looking forward to tonight.

  Her response was quick. Nixie: Me too. xo

  Those two letters were new. She hadn’t used them before. Kiss, hug. Our brief embrace a few hours ago had barely whetted my appetite and I was eager for plenty more of both. Putting the phone back in my pocket, I clapped my hands together. “Who’s ready for ice cream?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Nash

  Fuck.

  It took a minute for the impact of Nixie’s stare to hit me, but when it did . . . BOOM. My entire body spasmed, my ribcage contracting to press against my lungs. Nixie’s eyes were like fun house mirrors, distorting what I knew to be true.

  We looked like a family.

  We are a family.

  Just not the kind of family reflected within Nixie’s pained gaze.

  Surprise and disgust oozed from her pores, distorting her gorgeous features like Vaseline smeared across a mirror. And with Madison hanging off my back and Parker suspended between me and Eva—who could blame Nixie for thinking I was just another scumbag who tucked his wedding ring and conscience deep in his back pocket at the sight of a pretty woman?

  Oblivious, the kids peeled off me, throwing themselves against glass cases guarding the ice cream from their lustful panting. Seconds dragged by like hours as we faced each other, Nixie’s silent accusations reverberating within my ears as distinctly as the kids excited squeals.

  Eva had followed the twins, watching over them as they pointed excitedly at every flavor. Once they came to a decision, she broke the silence. “Excuse me, could our little guy here try a taste of the cotton candy?”

  At Nixie’s wince, I jerked toward Eva, wondering if she’d ever called Parker “our little guy” before without me noticing. “Of course,” Nixie answered, her voice high and thready.

  “An’ I wanna twy the pink one!”

  Eva smiled down at Madison. “And a taste of the Very Berry Strawberry for Little Miss Pinkalicious here, please.”

  Nixie’s stricken expression eased as she handed small spoons to my niece and nephew with their choices of ice cream, watching as they sampled each other’s flavors before predictably asking for a scoop of each one.

  “You know the rules,” Eva interjected. “Only one scoop.”

  “But mommy, pleeeeeeeeeeease,” they begged in unison.

  “If you’d like, I can give them two really small scoops. It’s no trouble,” Nixie said softly, her tone barely audible over the kids’ enthusiastic pleas.

  “Yes, yes, yes! Two scoops!” When it came to ice cream, the twins had the auditory processing skills of bats.

  Eva flashed an appreciative smile at her. “That would be great. Thank you.” As Nixie grabbed a metal scooper from the pail of warm water, Eva walked back toward me and looped her arm through mine. It was a struggle not to push her away, not to jump over the counter and explain what Nixie was really seeing. Instead I watched the color drain from her cheeks as she attacked the tubs of ice cream, the freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose standing out in sharp relief.

  Madison noticed, too. “Look, Mommy, she has gold princess glitter on huh face. Just like me!”

  The description couldn’t have been more accurate. Nixie moved with a regal bearing, and her face shimmered as if she’d emerged from a snow globe swirling with golden flecks.

  Four golf ball–sized scoops later, Nixie dropped the oversized spoon back into the jug of water, extending a pair of ice cream cups over the counter and into Madison and Parker’s grasping hands. “Thank you!” they squealed.

  Nixie winked at my niece. “Us princesses have to stick together.”

  Swallowing the heavy knot of want lodged inside my throat, I stepped unobtrusively away from Eva. “Why don’t you take them outside while I pay?” I suggested, eager to have a few minutes alone with Nixie.

  Eva looked away from the kids, a frown tugging her eyebrows together when her gaze landed on me. “Nash, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

  I stiffened. “I’m fine. Just—”

  Eva shook her head, her hand curving around my shoulder as she turned back to address Nixie. “Would you mind getting him a bottle of water?”

  “I’m fine,” I repeated through a clenched jaw.

  Nixie looked from Eva to me and back again, her stare catching on the long fingers now resting on my collarbone. “Sure,” she said, giving a quick bob of her chin and spinning around to the case behind her.

  Eva extended her free hand to take the bottle of water from Nixie and pushed it into my chest. “Jeez, you would think I was trying to poison you or something.” Rolling her eyes, she turned back to Nixie. “Men,” she clucked. “You can’t live with ’em and you can’t live without ’em, right?”

  Nixie crossed her arms in front of her chest, the force of her glare rocking me back on my heels. “Oh, I think I’m learning that I can definitely live without ’em.”

  Unfazed, Eva chortled. “Well, you’re way ahead of me, then.” Pulling a wad of napkins from the dispenser near the register, she motioned to Madison and Parker. “Come on, guys. Let’s go sit on the bench outside.”

  With the twins’ mouths full of ice cream, only the sound of their tiny feet racing though the door could be heard over the low hum of the freezers. Harsh fluorescent lights beat overhead, leaving every nuance of Nixie’s face bare to my gaze. Fury rose from her skin like steam.

  The door had barely closed when I blurted the most clichéd line of all time, “It’s not what you think.” The words landed in a foul pile at my feet, their stench worse than day old garbage from Fulton Fish Market.

  Nixie turned up her nose and grabbed the hundred out of my hand. “You know what, Nash—spare me the sleazy, half-a
ssed explanation.”

  “Nixie—”

  “What? Are you going to tell me again how you don’t,” lifting her arms, she made air quotes, “do relationships? It looks like you’re in a pretty cozy relationship to me.”

  The invisible beam of energy running between us was sparking and crackling, its voltage off the charts and still rising. “I swear—”

  “You swear? Is that the same as giving your word?” Nixie scoffed. “I’m keeping the dog, but I don’t want anything else from you.” Thrusting my change back in my hand, her glare could have felled a redwood. “Leave, Nash. Go be with people who haven’t realized what an asshole you really are. Yet.”

  I opened my mouth but before I could get another word out, chimes blared through a small speaker set above the entrance of the shop. “Parker had an accident,” Eva announced, poking her head through the front door. “We need to get back home.”

  Worst timing ever. I stuffed the cash into the tip jar, a heavy sigh punching from my lungs. “We’re not finished,” I grumbled, striding toward the door.

  Nixie didn’t let me have the last word. “Oh yes, we are.”

  Nixie

  My knees nearly buckled as the door slammed closed behind Nash’s perfect ass. Damn him for looking so good on the outside when he was one ugly son of a bitch on the inside. I was so angry, I almost couldn’t believe that the gallons of ice cream surrounding me hadn’t melted.

  But anger is an unstable emotion, and as quickly as it flared, it was gone. In its place came the crushing weight of disappointment. It seeped into every void, filling each nook and crevice as I slumped over the cash register, sucking in oxygen as if I was having an asthma attack.

  Pull yourself together, Nixie. What really just happened here? You discovered that there’s another jerk roaming the streets of Manhattan. Big deal.

  But it felt like a big deal. A really big deal. Not only had Nash had swooped in like Santa Claus and given me the pet I’d been longing for my whole life—one that would forever be a reminder of the serial cheater I’d been dumb enough to fall for—but somewhere along the line, he’d duped me into believing that he was different. That his word meant something. That he meant something.

  And now those words of his were taunting me, their sharp, serrated edges attacking my already weakened confidence.

  Eventually my breaths evened out, and I foraged for the silver lining in the situation. There had to be one. I mean, losing my parents at eight years old, I knew what true loss was, and how it felt. Discovering the guy I’d been crushing on was a complete slimeball might be pretty shitty, but it hardly qualified as tragic.

  Feeling a little bit better, I pushed off the register. Silver lining number one: Even though I’d spent all day looking forward to my date with Nash, at least I wouldn’t be going home to an empty apartment. I had Kismet.

  Some of the tightness eased from my shoulders and I grabbed a pint sized container, filling it to the brim with alternating layers of mint chocolate chip and crunchy crumbles. As I inverted a loaded spoon onto my tongue, letting the delicious concoction melt in my mouth, I found a second silver lining. With no need to save my appetite for dinner, I could gorge on free ice cream.

  Any other silver linings? I thought about the fun, flirty text stream on my phone, and the thrill that had raced up my spine every time it buzzed with an incoming message. On the surface, our conversations weren’t much, but they’d lit a spark in me I thought had been extinguished long ago. After everything that happened with Derrick, after running away from him and Pappi, I hadn’t allowed myself to get close to anyone. But because of Nash, I’d started to imagine that my self-imposed exile from all emotional entanglements didn’t have to be quite so lonely.

  I recalled the kaleidoscope of butterflies that had taken flight in my stomach at the exact instant Nash’s breath hit my lips. Nash’s kiss had shaken my foundation like an earthquake, made the ground beneath my feet feel unsteady—but in a good way.

  Now, there would be no more flirting, no more kisses.

  No more silver linings.

  Shoving another loaded spoonful in my mouth, it hit me that I wasn’t supposed to be here at all. This ice cream franchise had five locations in New York City, one in each borough. Hired for the Brooklyn store, I was only here tonight as a favor to my boss because his Manhattan store manager had completely flaked on him.

  Running into Nash with a gorgeous woman and two adorable kids in tow may have felt like a two-by-four smacking me in the stomach, leaving me nauseous and gasping for air, but I’d rather come face-to-face with Nash’s hypocrisy now rather than later. Nash and I were . . . nothing, really. Not even friends. He was a Good Samaritan who’d stepped in to help me out of a situation I never should have gotten myself into. I could be grateful for his help without falling at his feet.

  Even if he was fifty shades of sexy.

  We were completely incompatible. Nash said it himself—he didn’t do relationships. And I didn’t do one-night stands.

  Except that no, that wasn’t true. He had lied. Nash was clearly in a relationship—and there were kids involved! I cursed my stupidity for not paying closer attention to the woman’s ring finger. Was she his wife, fiancée, serious girlfriend? Were those his children? With a pang, I remembered how she’d referred to the little boy that had looked like Nash’s mini-me. Our little guy.

  I may not have checked out the woman’s hands, but it would have been hard not to notice the rest of her. Tall and thin, with jet black hair and startling blue eyes, she wore elegant stilettos that peeked out from beneath slim-fitting, dark jeans. A white blouse and brown suede blazer added to her look of streamlined sophistication.

  Looking down at my own ensemble, I grimaced. I was wearing jeans, ancient Converse sneakers and an oversized sweatshirt that defeated the purpose of my logo’d tee beneath, with my hair in a messy top-knot. Inhaling an entire pint of ice cream. A disgusted sound emerged from the base of my throat, the contents of my stomach turning sour. Jamming my spoon into the nearly empty carton, I pitched it into the garbage.

  Of course Nash would rather be with her, the woman he’d called Eva. She was the perfect pair for him and I was just . . . not.

  Somehow I managed to get through the rest of my shift, not that there were many customers on a chilly night in mid-September. Too bad, because it allowed a lot of time to think. Their happy little foursome had been in the store for five minutes, maybe ten. Yet every second of the ordeal was alive inside my head, rubbing at my brain like sandpaper, making it impossible to think about anything else. Nash. Eva. Two kids. One that looked like her. One that looked like him. They could have been cast in a commercial for a minivan.

  Actually, no. That wasn’t right. No one would believe that either of them would set foot in a minivan. A six-figure Mercedes SUV, maybe.

  But what did I know about family? My parents were gone and I’d turned my back on Pappi because of what happened with Derrick.

  I didn’t even have a group of girlfriends to commiserate with. I’d lost touch with my friends as Derrick and I had gotten more serious, and I’d only just started at Pratt.

  It was at times like these when I missed my parents the most. Especially my mom.

  If she were here, I would ask her if pretending to be someone you’re not is just a part of growing up. If becoming an adult came with the ability to ferret out lies before they had the power to hurt.

  Dozens of ice cream tubs mocked me with their silence, and the thick cotton of my sweatshirt was no match for the frigid air. I crossed my arms and rubbed at my shoulders, willing the clock to speed up.

  Nash

  Leaving my guts at Nixie’s feet on the floor of the ice cream shop, I picked up Madison and carried her to the car while Eva tended to Parker. Her cone dripped all over my clothes as I leaned my back against the headrest and closed my eyes, the memory of Nixie’s shocked, hurt expression shooting darts into my brain. Punishment for losing focus on my obligations, I des
erved the migraine, and more. Nixie didn’t, though, and I felt like the scum that floats on the surface of the Hudson River. Oily and toxic.

  After Jay drove us back to their apartment, Eva and I continued with our tag team approach, as we’d done so many times before. She ran the bath, I stripped off their clothes. She soaped up Madison. I washed Parker. I dried Madison off, she dried Parker. The twins had only recently separated into their own bedrooms, and there we switched again. Eva dressed Parker in his pajamas and I did the same for Madison. I read Goodnight Moon to Parker and then again to Madison.

  Eva emerged from Parker’s room just as I closed Madison’s door, The Very Hungry Caterpillar dangling from her hand. “Thanks, Nash.” She shot me a grateful look, pushing fingers through her dark hair. “I could use a glass of wine. Don’t make me drink alone, okay?”

  I’d been about to leave, but instead I shoved my hands back into my pockets and dragged in a breath. “Sure.” Nixie would hardly be in a hurry to see me again, and I could use a drink to quiet my racing thoughts, not that wine would have been my first choice. Following Eva into her kitchen, I opened a drawer and pulled out her steel corkscrew. “Sorry about last night, again. Were the kids disappointed?”

  Tight bands bracketed her lips as she set a bottle on the counter in front of me. “Oh Nash, I know better than to get their hopes up.” Her eyes shined with a sadness I hadn’t put there, but hadn’t done nearly enough to fix.

  This was turning out to be one hell of a banner day. Fuck.

  I uncorked the Malbec, Eva’s words chipping at my conscience, and poured two hefty glasses. What could I say? She was right. One hundred percent right. “Eva, I—”

  She took the glass from my outstretched hand and moved to the couch in the living room, kicking off her shoes and sinking into the cushions. “It’s fine, Nash. Really, I get it. You have a life.”

  And my brother didn’t.

  The unspoken thought hung in the air between us, lowering the temperature in the apartment by at least ten degrees. I gulped at the wine, my eyes prowling the room for the framed photographs of Wyatt scattered on walls, tabletops, and bookshelves. A laptop facing the couch was kept open, a montage featuring photographs of Wyatt—alone, with Eva, with me, with our parents, with his Air Force buddies—playing on a continuous loop. The twins had never met their father, but Eva made sure that they saw his image and felt his presence in their lives every day. I sat down heavily on the couch. “I should be here more. I want to be here more.”