Hip Check
Page 11
Jason broke into his trademark smirk. “Are you asking me, or are you asking yourself? If you’re asking yourself, it’s because she’s gotten under your skin.”
“Fuck off.”
“No, you fuck off.”
You fuck off because you hit the nail on the head. She had gotten under his skin. Kind of. He’d kissed her to shut her up, but it was bound up in a momentary flash of desire that had nothing to do with his drinking earlier in the evening. The kiss had stunned him. It had obviously stunned Michelle, too—but only after the fact. For the few brief seconds their lips were pressed together, she’d responded eagerly. He was used to that with women, but somehow this felt one degree different. He’d been trying not to give it too much thought.
Jason’s smirk was still intact. “What’s your nanny up to tonight? Hot date?”
“No idea.”
“If she’s as smokin’ as Ulf says, I’m sure she’s got a boyfriend.”
Esa eyed him warily. “Probably.”
“Probably just a matter of time ’til you meet the guy.” Jason looked intent on making Esa suffer as he took a long, slow sip of beer. “What’s your policy on her having her boyfriend stay overnight?”
“We don’t have one, but it’s unlikely it’s something she’d want to do. It would send the wrong message to Nell.”
“Yeah, but the guy could sneak out before Nell wakes up.”
“Will you just shut the hell up about the nanny?” Esa said angrily.
“Touchy.”
“Eat me, Mitchell.” He picked up the remote. “Anything good on TV?”
“Good tactic, change the subject. ESPN Classic has the final game of the 1994 Stanley Cup Playoffs, when the Blades kicked major, major ass. Didn’t win, but Jesus, if you ever want to get inspired watching a team who played their guts out, this is it.”
“Sure, why not?” Esa replied woodenly. Watching some of the old timers when they were in their prime might be inspirational; plus he knew Temu Tekkanen was on the opposing team that year, and had laid to rest any lingering prejudices that Finnish players were pussies.
Jason set up the game on TV. He was right; it was outstanding. But it did little to block out the niggling voice in his head that kept asking: What was Michelle doing tonight? And who was she doing it with?
15
“Do you mind if I join you ladies for breakfast?”
Michelle couldn’t hide her pleasure when she saw how happy Nell looked upon hearing Esa’s request. This would be twice in twenty-four hours that he’d spent time with her. If Nell’s endless chatter about the big black Newf, Stanley, was anything to go on, she’d had a good time last night with her uncle. It boded well.
“What do you think, Nell?” Michelle asked. “Should we let him eat breakfast with us?”
Nell tapped her chin with her index finger as if pondering the fate of Western civilization. “I guess so.”
Esa sat down. “Well, thank you.”
“I’ve been hearing a lot about a certain dog named Stanley,” said Michelle, biting into one of the scones she’d made for Nell.
Nell looked at Esa imploringly. “I want a dog!”
Esa glanced at Michelle uneasily. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea right now. A dog is a big responsibility.”
“Okay,” said Nell, looking unhappy but momentarily appeased.
Esa regarded Michelle. “Mind if I have a cup of coffee?”
“Of course you can. There are scones, too, as you can see.”
“Just like the ones I used to have at home!” Nell chirped.
Michelle wondered if it bothered Esa that his niece still referred to London as “home.” He gave no indication of it, though even if it did, it wasn’t like he was going to correct her.
Esa poured himself some coffee and returned to the table, nodding his head approvingly as he bit into his scone. “Very good.”
“Thank you.”
“The coffee is good as well.”
“Thank you again.”
“I take my coffee very seriously.”
“As do I.”
Esa cracked a small smile. Maybe relaxation was on its way after all.
Meanwhile, Nell was devouring her scone. “You better slow down, lady, or you’re going to get sick,” Michelle chided.
“My sis—your mum used to do the same thing,” Esa told Nell. “She loved muffins and all those sorts of things, the sweeter the better.”
“I know that,” Nell replied curtly. She slid out of her chair, addressing Michelle. “May I be excused?”
This was one of those moments when it was Esa’s call, not hers. When silence ensued, Michelle gave him a small, discreet kick under the table.
“Of course you can be excused,” said Esa, “but I need to tell you something first.” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Nell.”
“Okay.” Nell’s voice was flat as she walked out of the kitchen. Esa looked so hapless that Michelle actually felt sorry for him.
“What did I do? One minute, she’s so happy to have me at breakfast. The next, she wants to run away from me. I thought she’d be happy to hear something about her mother . . .”
“She’s still grieving, Esa.” Michelle fought the impulse to put her hand over his. “Her emotions are all over the place. She might have interpreted what you said as an insinuation that she’s forgotten things about her mom.”
“If anything it would be the other way around,” Esa muttered. “I’ve probably forgotten things she could tell me.”
“Maybe you could tell her that. That you need her help when it comes to Danika. It might help her feel close to you.”
“Why do you know all these things?”
“All what things?”
“All these psychological things.”
“I’ve worked with kids for a long time. I read up on the subject of children and grief when I learned about Nell’s situation. And my mother died when I was a little older than she is now. I know what it’s like to be left to deal with that on your own.”
“Oh.” Esa looked uncomfortable. “But your father and brother . . .”
“My dad did the best he could, but he was too wrapped up in his own grief to really help me with mine, and my brother was just a kid himself. At any rate, I was emotionally stranded.”
“Is that one of the reasons you took the job? Because you didn’t want the same to happen to Nell?”
“Yes.”
“She’s lucky you’re her nanny,” Esa said softly.
Michelle looked down at her lap. “I’m glad you think so.” Can’t peer down forever. Eventually you’re going to have to look up at him. She forced her head up, feeling awkward. If Esa felt the same way, he wasn’t showing it. His face was completely devoid of emotion. Poker face.
“Tomorrow is your day off.” He looked proud. “See, I checked the calendar.”
Michelle raised her coffee cup to him. “Commendable.”
Esa looked studiedly casual. “Any plans?”
Michelle smiled tightly. “That’s–”
“None of my business,” Esa finished for her politely. “Of course.”
“Esa.” Michelle felt like she was being a bitch, even though she wasn’t. “I’m not trying to be deliberately secretive. I just think it’s wiser if our personal lives are kept separate.”
“I agree, to a certain extent,” Esa replied carefully. “But there is an issue having to do with your personal life that we failed to discuss when you started as Nell’s nanny.”
“What’s that?”
“If you want to bring someone home to sleep with.”
It was true: they hadn’t talked about it. But his blunt way of putting it shocked her. “That’s something you don’t need to worry about,” Michelle replied evenly. “I would never do that.”
“But you live here,” Esa continued, a slight undertone of challenge in his voice. “I’m sure there will be times—”
“First of all, I do
n’t have a boyfriend,” Michelle retorted. “And it would send the wrong message to Nell.”
“Ah.” A weirdly satisfied expression crossed his face, as if he’d gotten hold of some forbidden information. Which he had: Esa now knew she didn’t have a boyfriend. Not that he’d have any reason to care, but still. Michelle hated the feeling of being at some kind of disadvantage. She had no right to ask what next came out of her mouth, but she couldn’t help herself.
“And what about you? Will you be bringing women home?”
Esa smiled enigmatically. “Now we’re getting into my business.”
“The way you just got into mine.” Michelle sipped her coffee. “This is the part where you remind me you’re my boss, right?”
“I was a prick when I said that. Drunk, too. But if I may ask: were you this forward with your former employers?”
“It was a completely different situation.”
“I see.”
“You still haven’t answered my question. Boss.”
Esa shrugged. “I don’t know what I’ll be doing, though I’m sure you’re going to tell me what you think I should be doing.”
Michelle took a bite of her scone, suddenly dry in her mouth. “I wouldn’t presume.”
Esa laughed. “You presume often, usually to my benefit, I must admit. So tell me your thoughts.”
“I think that if you’re going to do that”—an image of him sweeping some, giggling, Amazonian blonde up into his arms and carrying her into his bedroom flashed before her—“I think you should set an alarm clock, and have the woman out of here before Nell gets up. Otherwise, she’ll be confused.”
“Because it will send the wrong message,” Esa said wryly, echoing her words of a moment before.
“Yes.” Was he mocking her?
“And what message is that, exactly?”
“That one-night stands are okay.”
“Why do you assume any woman I’d have over would be a one-night stand? Maybe it would be a girlfriend.”
“Maybe it would.”
“But you wouldn’t do it,” Esa reiterated.
“No.”
“Hhmm.”
Michelle dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “Have we resolved the issue to your satisfaction?”
“I suppose.” Esa broke off a piece of scone. “Do you think Nell is ready to come see me play?” he asked, putting each of his fingers in his mouth one by one to suck off the crumbs.
Michelle felt a sharp quickening go through her that wasn’t supposed to happen. “Yeah. I think she might like it.”
“I have a game tonight . . .”
“That’s perfect.” Michelle loved the idea of going to a Blades game and being able to tease her brother and dad about it afterward, especially if the Blades won.
“I’ll arrange for you two to be in one of the skyboxes, then.”
Michelle felt uncomfortable. “Isn’t there a green room where friends and family watch the game?”
Esa looked pleasantly perplexed. “How do you know about that?”
Michelle rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you? I know about hockey. I thought the skyboxes were for VIPs and stuff.”
“You and Nell are VIPs,” he pointed out easily.
“Oh.” Michelle looked uncomfortable.
“What’s up?”
“I really think she’d rather be with everyone else.”
“Fair enough. I would love it if you could bring her early and you two could watch me warm up. Maybe she’d like that?”
“I think she would.” It was almost sweet, the way he’d framed it as a question.
Michelle remembered going to games with her brother, how they always had to get there early to watch the players warm up. One time Darius Kasparaitus had flipped a puck over the Plexiglas to him and Jamie acted like he’d been tossed a diamond. He probably still had the puck somewhere.
“We’re settled, then: green room for my niece and her very protective, outspoken nanny.”
Michelle smiled. “That almost sounds like a compliment.”
“It almost is.” Esa drained his coffee cup, though he didn’t move. In fact, he seemed glued to the chair. “I guess I’ll go talk to Nell.”
That it was more a question than a statement belied his anxiety. Michelle didn’t like the way he was starting to make her feel: one minute she thought he was the world’s most selfish, arrogant jerk, and the next she found herself moved by his vulnerability. This would be one of those moments.
“No time like the present.”
Esa appeared dismayed. “Right.”
“It’s a good thing you’re doing, Esa.”
* * *
Esa rapped lightly on Nell’s door, then stuck his head inside. “Okay if I come in?”
Nell, engrossed at her computer, shrugged diffidently.
Esa hesitated. Close the door, because it was a private talk? Leave it open? Did it matter? He left it open just a sliver and walked over to her desk, peering over her shoulder with interest.
“What’re you looking at?”
Nell shrugged and hit the screensaver. It was a picture of a polar bear on an ice floe.
“I remember you liked the bears from the zoo,” he said lamely.
Silence. Why did there have to be silence?
He stood up to full height, surprised to find himself nervous. “Nell, I wanted to apologize again for upsetting you in the kitchen. Obviously, I wouldn’t have mentioned Dan—your mum—if I thought it would distress you.”
Nell remained stock-still, staring hard at the polar bear.
“I just thought that maybe it would make you feel good if . . .”
The walls of his throat began closing.
“I thought—if you heard you shared . . .”
He closed his eyes against the tears that threatened. He couldn’t do it; he couldn’t talk to his niece at length about his sister without breaking down.
“I have a home game tonight. Do you and Michelle want to go?”
Nell slowly turned to look up at him. “Okay.”
He managed a small smile. “Good. It’ll be nice to have you there cheering me on. And Michelle knows a lot about hockey, so—”
“How come you don’t go out with Michelle?”
Esa furrowed his brows in confusion. “What?”
“How come you don’t go on dates with Michelle? She’s nice.”
Fuck. “I’m her boss, Nell.”
“So?”
Esa felt flustered. “That’s not what people do. Bosses don’t go out with the people who work for them.”
“Why not?”
“Because they don’t.”
“Well, if you ask me, that’s stupid.”
“Yes, well, I guess it is.” Esa tugged on the end of one of her ponytails, the way he’d seen Michelle do, pleased when she didn’t jerk her head away. “I’m glad you two are coming to the game.” He took a step back. “So, uh, that’s it. See you later.”
Nell nodded and Esa, shaken, headed for the door. Okay, so there hadn’t been some big heart-to-heart. He wanted there to be, but he couldn’t do it, he was too afraid. At least he’d apologized, and she’d accepted. That had to count for something.
As for Nell’s questions about Michelle, even he couldn’t figure that out.
“Going over to Rory Brady’s for a bit,” he called out to Michelle in the kitchen. Rory was good with kids; Erin, too. They’d be able to help him out here. At any rate, there was no way he wanted to be alone with thoughts of his sister dancing through his head. He snatched his jacket and headed out the door.
16
“Well, if it isn’t the famous Mr. Esa Saari, come to grace us with his presence.”
Erin’s grin helped lighten Esa’s mood as she ushered him into her and Rory’s apartment. Esa had called ahead to make sure his friend was home. Rory made it clear ages ago that he hated when people showed up at his door unannounced, even if it was his best mate on the hockey team.
Erin was right: Fall was tapping New York on the shoulder, reminding the city to get ready. Personally, Esa liked the fall and winter. It was kind of hard to grow up in Finland and not like it.
“How’s it going?” Esa asked her. When Erin and Rory had first moved to Manhattan two years ago, Erin, an art history major, had gotten an internship at the Guggenheim Museum. The internship led to a job as an archivist.
“Still loving it. That’s not to say there aren’t some days that find me at my wit’s end—my boss is a real arsehole—but overall, no complaints.”
“That’s good. Speaking of assholes, where’s your husband?”
“Just getting off the phone with his Gran. She’s not doing so well.”
Esa sat down on the couch. “What’s up?”
“She’s always prided herself on being healthy as a horse, but she’s got a cough she just can’t shake and is dead tired all the time. The stubborn thing won’t go to the local doctor.”
Rory walked in to the living room, shaking his head. “Jesus wept.”
“How is she?” Erin asked worriedly.
“Stubborn as a cow, as always. She still won’t see Dr. Laurie.”
“Maybe she’s afraid of finding out what’s wrong,” Erin suggested quietly.
“Oh, I’m sure that’s it,” Rory agreed. “Or she thinks she can heal herself with the power of prayer. What a load of bollocks.”
“How did you leave things with her?”
“I told her I was sending Dr. Laurie ’round, but I wouldn’t tell her when. She was livid but I don’t care.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“’Course she will.” He put his arm around Erin and drew her in for a kiss before acknowledging Esa. “What about you, you Finnish prick? Anything exciting going on with your relatives?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“‘In a manner of speaking’?” Rory mocked. “Since when do you talk like that?” He narrowed his eyes accusingly. “Are you hooked on that feckin’ Downton Abbey like everyone else in the world?”