I brought my wine glass to my lips and cast my eyes out the window. The expanse of the backyard was beautiful, but seeing it blanketed by the peaceful nighttime gave me a sense of peace. There was no gunfire off in the distance and there were no cries of mothers who had lost their children. I mindlessly sipped my wine, trying to figure out how I was going to answer his question.
But I really didn’t want to.
Just like he didn’t want to talk about his wife, I didn’t want to talk about my time in Africa.
At least, not that part of it.
“It’s in the past,” I said curtly.
I watched Carter nod as he took a sip of his wine.
“You got your undergraduate in Early Childhood Education.”
“I did,” I said.
“Have you ever thought about pursuing a higher level of education with it?” he asked.
“I have. I’ve always wanted to go back and get my Master’s so I could broaden my career potential, but financially it isn’t possible.”
“Not even with a six-figure salary?” Carter asked with a grin.
“Even though you’re a billionaire, I’m not out for your money. And since you've hired me full-time, the last thing I’m going to be doing is trying to balance your children and my education. If anything, I’ll save as much as I can and go back eventually.”
“Eventually?” he asked.
“Yes. Eventually. I’ve still got student loans I have to pay off now. I need to be out of debt before I take on a Master’s degree.”
“Makes sense.”
“Enough about me though,” I said. “Tell me about you.”
“I’m not a very interesting topic,” Carter said.
“I doubt that. You started your own marketing company and built it from the ground up.”
“You want to hear my success story?” he asked.
“No. I want to hear how you met my cousin and got him roped into this mess,” I said with a smirk.
“Ah, Logan. He’s a good man.”
“That he is. I love him greatly.”
“So the two of you are close?” he asked.
“We are. We grew up together on the outskirts of San Francisco.”
“What kind of cousin is he?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“First cousin, second cousin? Third cousin twice removed?”
“Oh,” I said with a giggle. “He’s my first cousin. His mother and my father were brother and sister.”
“Were?” he asked.
“You have a knack for pushing the spotlight onto someone else, don’t you?” I asked.
“What did you mean by ‘were’?”
I sighed and lowered my gaze into my wine glass.
“My father died in a construction accident when I was twelve,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” Carter said.
“It was hard. My mother grieved heavily and was always shipping me off to Logan’s house. I spent many weekends there so my mother could get back up on her feet.”
“Does your mother still live in the area?” he asked.
“No. She died a few days before I graduated from college.”
“What happened?”
“She killed herself.”
I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath. I felt something warm settle on my knee and I opened my eyes. I saw Carter’s hand wrapping around my leg, his thumb stroking the top of my jeans. I could feel his body heat penetrating the denim I was wearing.
It sent shivers up my legs to intense it ached my hips.
“Look it’s… people go through things. We all have our pasts. What’s important is how we choose to continue and press forward,” I said.
“Wise words coming from such a young woman,” Carter said.
“Young is relative to what a person has experienced in their lifetime.”
I looked up into Carter’s eyes and took in the beautiful green they housed. I finished off my glass of wine and set the glass between my legs. His hand drifted up my thigh, caressing my skin as I watched him travel farther. Lower thigh. Middle thigh. Upper thigh. My hip.
Then I watched his fingers move to the glass between my legs before he plucked it from its threshold.
“I’ll take this,” Carter said.
I let go of the breath I was holding as he got up and walked away. I closed my eyes and took a few shallow breaths, trying to steady the uneasiness in my gut. It had been years since I’d felt this way around a man. And of course, it had to be my boss.
“Would you care for another glass?”
“Oh, no. I’m okay,” I said.
“You sure?”
“Positive,” I said.
“Suit yourself.”
I heard him pour himself a glass of wine before he came back over to the couch. He sat down next to me, but he was so close our knees were connected. I felt my heart slamming against my chest. My hands were beginning to sweat. I looked up into Carter’s eyes and smiled, watching as he relaxed into the couch.
Holy hell, that man could wear a suit.
“I met Logan while the two of us were in college,” he said.
“So you went to Caltech as well,” I said.
“I did. We were frat buddies.”
“Oh man, you were one of those guys I hated in college,” I said.
“It was an academic fraternity. Not one of those fuckboy parties.”
“Did you just say ‘fuckboy’?” I asked.
“It’s the only accurate term to describe them. Logan had this side-business going while he was in school. He was helping the small businesses around the area advertise in a way that attracted the heavy student population. We got to talking one night over some beers and I told him he needed someone to set him up a website. Something that would get his name out there. Something that would pop up if people searched for him on the internet.”
“So you’re not the marketing guru,” I said.
“Nope. that’s Logan’s alley. I’ve picked up some tools of the trade, but that’s more his wheelhouse. He deals with advertising and marketing, and I deal with everything that comes with internet marketing.”
“Is that not the same thing?” I asked.
“Nope. Logan does things like commercials and billboards and works with creative minds to come up with slogans and campaigns. I deal with websites and social media and GoFundMe accounts and YouTube videos.”
“So, Logan does the traditional marketing, and you do the modern marketing.”
“That’s… actually a really good way to put it,” he said.
“Sounds like the two of you are a good team.”
“We are. I sit in the CEO chair, but we own everything fifty-fifty. That company wouldn’t be what it is today had it not been for your cousin. But don’t tell him I told you that. It’ll go to his head.”
“Trust me, I know what you’re talking about. You pay him any compliment and he’ll bring it up in every conversation for the next month.”
“So he does that to you, too?” he asked.
“Yep. He’s always done it. So I deliver his compliments a little underhanded. If I think he’s done a good job, I don’t tell him that. I say something like ‘it’s better than what you did last week’.”
“Ah, so you throw shade.”
“For a man in his thirties, you sure do talk like a millennial,” I said.
“I have to. We market heavily to that crowd. If I’m not hip with the lingo, we sink.”
“Now you sound like a dad,” I said, giggling.
A comfortable silence settled on us and I could feel his eyes taking me in. He was a powerful force, that much I was figuring out. I looked up at him and found a grin creeping across his cheeks. Like he knew a secret I didn’t and was waiting for me to figure something out.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Carter said.
“No really. What is it?”
“Just a fleeting thought.”
“Do I even wan
na know?” I asked.
“Maybe some other time,” he said.
I felt a blush tint my cheeks, though I wasn’t sure why I was blushing. I cleared my throat and stood up, desperate to put some space between us. He was magnetic, and I was falling prey to his field. I felt like a spaceship being helplessly dragged into a planet’s gravitational pull. I cleared my throat and smiled down at him, then watched as he stood to his feet.
I would never get over how tall this man really was.
“Let me walk you to the door,” Carter said.
Then his hand fell onto the small of my back.
He escorted me all the way to my car and watched as I drove away. It wasn’t until I turned onto the main road that I felt like I could breathe. The tension in that house! Hopefully it wasn’t only me who could feel it.
I got to my apartment and was shocked to find all of my furniture in its place, and I smiled as I walked over to my couch.
I flopped down onto it and closed my eyes, reveling in how comfortable it was.
Though I had to admit, it did feel a little emptier than I remembered.
Six
Carter
Over the next few weeks, my company made leaps and bounds. Marshall Marketing became Marshall-Nudel Marketing, and we were in the process of revamping Nudel Marketing’s main building in Germany to turn it into our headquarters. The price had been paid, Nudel Marketing had been downsized to our specifications, and I had sent Logan over to Germany to train the staff left in the new techniques we were going to use. It had been a whirlwind over the past six weeks, but a great deal of weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
And things were wonderful with the kids.
Natasha was there every morning at five thirty. She had the kids eating breakfast by the time I came downstairs and always had a black coffee waiting for me with an apple. Her and the kids were off to school around the same time I left for work, and she was there every evening when I came home. She always had some form of dinner cooked, whether she cooked it herself or ordered out. And she always had a pitcher of that wonderful lemonade in the refrigerator for us to drink.
She had become part of our family, and we were all better for it.
“How are things going with Natasha?” Logan asked.
“I’m trying to find an appropriate way to thank you for bringing her into our life,” I said.
“I told you she was good with kids.”
“How are things in Germany?” I asked.
“I don’t know near enough to communicate in society around here, but I’m getting the hang of it. The training only started yesterday, but it looks promising. Not much here is different from how we do it, but a few things could be changed. The biggest changes are going to have to be to who’s employed where.”
“What do you mean?”
“We can’t have people with thick German accents picking up phone calls from our U.S.-based customers. They’ll never be able to understand one another,” he said. “So I’m having a company-wide meeting today to get everyone’s input on where they actually want to work in the company before I start switching around job titles.”
“Good luck with that,” I said. “Don’t blow things up before we can get it off the ground.”
“Don’t worry. I have a plan in place. Give me three weeks and I’ll have this place up and running the way it should be.”
“That’s why I sent you out there for it. Keep me in the loop.”
“Check your email and it won’t be that hard,” he said.
I hung up my office phone before my cell phone started ringing. It was Clara’s school, and I looked over at the clock to see what time it was. It was only ten thirty and the only reason they would be calling me was if they couldn’t get in touch with Natasha.
Was everything all right?
“Hello?” I asked.
“Mr. Marshall, it’s Mrs. Canny.”
“Hello there, Mrs. Canny. Is everything okay?”
“I’ve been trying to get Miss Natasha on the phone, but she isn’t picking up. Clara’s sick and I need someone to come get her.”
“Have you tried the house phone? Maybe her cell phone’s off,” I said.
“I don’t have your house number here. Only your cell, your work, and Natasha’s cell phone.”
“I’ll give the house a call and see if I can get her. If I can’t, I’ll leave work immediately. What’s going on with Clara?” I asked.
“It’s not that bad. A slight fever, she’s not eating her snack. She’s sleeping in the corner on one of our cots right now.”
“Yep. Sounds like she’s sick. Give me fifteen minutes and one of us will be there.”
“I’ll get her ready,” she said.
I hung up the phone and promptly called the house. Worry was bubbling in my gut. I couldn’t be upset for Natasha not keeping her cell phone by her, but during times like this I needed her to be available. Even though things with the merger were going well, there was still mounds of paperwork I had to take care of and get filed away and I couldn’t get it done if I was constantly having to track her down.
“Marshall residence, this is Natasha speaking.”
“It’s me,” I said.
“Carter?”
“Where’s your cell phone?” I asked.
“I’m having it replaced. Joshua had a bit of a tantrum this morning and my cell phone was collateral damage.”
“What?” I asked.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it under control. It happens sometimes with kids, but I’m currently cell phone-less. Do you not remember me telling you that this morning?”
“Apparently not,” I said. “Listen, Clara’s sick. Her school just called.”
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Small fever. Not eating. She’s sleeping through the day.”
“I’m grabbing my things right now. Carter, I’m so sorry. I’ll be at her school in ten minutes.”
“Calm down. Take a breath. I don’t want you behind the wheel of the car-”
The phone call went dead and I heaved a heavy sigh. Shit. Of course I would’ve missed a detail like that. Now the woman probably thought I was upset with her over not having her cell phone. I looked down at the paperwork on my desk and began to pack it up before a notification flashed on my computer.
Fuck. I had a damn investor’s meeting over lunch.
I packed everything in my briefcase and endured the grueling meeting. It was a bunch of rich men bitching about small things. Logan was video-conferenced in to help mitigate and answer their questions, but my mind was elsewhere.
I was worried about Natasha and Clara.
I rushed out of the meeting, taking my paperwork with me. I drove home like a bat out of hell, whipping through traffic and running through yellow lights. My daughter was sick and I wanted to be there for her. I wanted Natasha to know that I wasn’t upset with her for not having her cell phone.
I also wanted to have a talk with Joshua once he got home from school.
I parked my car and raced up to the porch. I barreled through the front door and tossed my briefcase of paperwork off to the side. I shrugged my coat off and hung it up, then strode up the stairs to Clara’s room.
“Clara?” I asked. “You awake, honey?”
But when I pushed her door open to see my sweet little princess, she wasn’t there.
Furrowing my brow, I went back downstairs. I knew Natasha was here because I had parked behind her, but I didn’t know where they were. I walked around upstairs, thinking maybe they had fallen asleep in one of the guest rooms.
But it wasn’t until I made my way into the living room that I found them.
The two of them were fast asleep on the couch. Natasha was propped up with some pillows and Clara’s face was smashed into her chest. Natasha was cradling her close, protecting my daughter even while she slept.
I grinned at the scene as I pulled a blanket from one of the chairs.
I fluttere
d it over their bodies, but the sensation woke Natasha up. She jerked and her eyes flew open, and I jumped back as she shot up. Her arm was held up in front of her face and she tucked Clara into the crook of the couch. Protected between her body and the couch cushions.
And she was panting for air.
Like I had startled her.
“It’s just me,” I said.
Natasha’s eyes grew wide as she whipped her head over to me. She looked down at Clara who was still sound asleep against her body. She quickly put her arm down and raked her hands through her beautiful brown hair, and I saw the fear still percolating behind her eyes.
Who did she think I was?
What had she been reacting to?
“Sorry,” Natasha said breathlessly. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Just wanted to make you guys comfortable,” I said.
“Let’s go get Clara in her bed. I think she’s going to sleep the majority of the day.”
I helped Natasha off the couch before I gathered my daughter in my arms. I could feel her hot on my heels as the two of us walked up the stairs. I settled my daughter into her bed and Natasha tucked her in, then leaned over and kissed my her heated cheek.
It felt natural to do this with Natasha.
Like she was a part of our family.
“Should we get her to a doctor?” I asked.
“Let’s talk in the hallway,” she said.
The two of us stepped out of Clara’s room and I shut her door behind me.
“I took her straight to the doctor after I picked her up,” Natasha said.
“What did Dr. Rosenbaum say?” I asked.
“They drew a bit of blood and took a urine sample to make sure there was no infection or anything, and after ruling all that out he thinks it’s simply the changing of the seasons. Tylenol to help with the fever, Benadryl at night to help her sleep, and I’m steaming her sinuses over the sink to open her up.”
“You’re what?” I asked.
“It’s when someone boils water and then pours it into the sink. The steam comes up, Clara breathes it in, and she drains. I’m teaching her how to blow her nose with it.”
“And she lets you do that,” I said.
“Eh, she’s a bit combative with it, but it works. I’m not a fan of pumping her full of medication at such a young age.”
5+Us Makes Seven: A Nanny Single Dad Romance Page 4