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The Nanny (A Billionaire Romance)

Page 24

by Naomi Niles


  "So, what do we do now?" I asked. I couldn't bear the thought of facing Stuart again, of eating the food he prepared for us, of letting him come within ten feet of Halle. I shuddered involuntarily, and Tate wrapped his arms around me protectively and pulled me to his chest.

  "Go to the nursery with Halle and pretend like everything is normal. I'll take care of everything. You trust me, don't you?"

  "I do," I stated, and I always should have. As he held me in his muscular arms and put his mouth on mine, I knew that I always would.

  Chapter Forty-Two: Tate

  "It's about time you fucking got here," I greeted Thomas Tandy with a firm handshake and an annoyed scowl.

  "Sorry, I was out of town and couldn't get back until this morning," Tom said as he breezed through the door with his briefcase in hand.

  The defense attorney was impeccably dressed as always in a charcoal gray suit by Dolce and Gabbana, a bright blue tie, and Italian shoes. His dark hair, peppered with gray at the temples, was slicked back, and everything about him looked polished. He rarely lost a case, and everyone knew it was because he was the most capable attorney in the state. That's why I hired him, and why I didn't mind his busy schedule.

  Still, when I called someone, I was used to having them show up right away – not make me wait three days. Now wasn't the time to pout, however. There were more important matters at hand.

  "It's alright; you're here now, so let's get to business." We strode up to my office, and Rachelle called Missy up from her room to come watch Halle so she could join us.

  I was pleased with the interest Missy had been showing in our daughter lately, but also wary. She had little patches in the past where she would show up for a day or two so she could avail herself of my food, hospitality, and money. To butter me up, she would find Halle in the nursery and play with her for an hour, but that was it. Then she'd take my money and disappear for months at a time again.

  This was the most time I'd ever seen her spend with Halle. She'd been here for nearly a week, spending hours at a time playing and bonding with her; and as much as I liked seeing Halle so happy, I couldn't help but feel afraid, too.

  What would happen when Missy left again? Would this extended time they were spending together make things easier on Halle or harder? Or was the start of a new and improved Missy whom Halle could be proud to call her mother? There was no way to predict the future. All I could do was try to make the best choices for the current situation, and for now, it was a really big help having Missy around to watch Halle so Rachelle and I were free to meet with my lawyer.

  "So, what's so important that you couldn't discuss it on the phone?" Tom asked as he took a seat on one of the chairs across from my desk and started emptying the contents of his briefcase.

  "Tell him," I prompted Rachelle. She looked so beautiful and frail as she sat timidly in the chair next to him with her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her delicate fingers fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, and her blue eyes were watery as she told him about her awful experience the night she was assaulted.

  "I thought someone was in the house. So, I got out of the tub, put on my robe, and went to see who it was. I thought it was Tate." She blushed bright pink, and I held her hand for support as Tom wordlessly scribbled in his notepad.

  "Then what happened?" he asked without emotion. She told him every detail about going downstairs to the kitchen, hearing a noise in the laundry room, and then being brutally hit on the head from behind. It was the first time I'd heard her recount the attack, and it made my spine prickle, and my jaw clenched with anger. If Stuart had been in the room, I'd have beaten the shit out of him right then, but I had to control my temper. Kicking his ass would be temporarily satisfying, but putting him in prison would permanently get him off the streets and keep Rachelle safe from danger.

  She was saying to Tom, "The last thing I saw before everything went black was a pair of black leather athletic shoes. They were very distinct, and I was able to describe them to the police that night. I remembered the shoes so well because they had a red leather number twenty-two stitched on the sides. I'll never forget those shoes. That's why I was so freaked out when I found an identical pair stuffed in the corner of Tate's closet."

  It was my turn to talk. I told Tom about the Christmas party last year when Rose gave both Stuart and I a pair of shoes.

  "And, you’re certain there were only two pairs ever made?" Tom asked.

  "Yes," I insisted. "She showed me the website that night where she was able to design and purchase the shoes. The twenty-two was significant to her because she met me when she was twenty-two years old. I never found out why it was also significant to her and Stuart."

  With his notepad in his hand, Tom began pacing around my desk, thinking as he spoke. "Tell me everything you can about Stuart Haynes. How long has he worked for you?"

  "I hired him eight years ago, just after my thirtieth birthday," I said after a moment's thought. Grinning with amusement, I added, "I figured I was getting older, and I'd better start working harder to keep myself in shape."

  "So you hired a personal chef to cook healthier meals?" Tom confirmed, and I had to shake my head.

  "No, I hired him as a physical trainer," I corrected. "He devised workout programs for me in my home gym, timed me when I swam laps in the pool, that kind of thing. I wanted a ripped body, and he helped me get one."

  "I thought you said he was your chef." Tom scowled.

  "He is now. Being a personal trainer only took up a few hours each day, and he went to culinary school at night. When he graduated, I hired him as my personal chef, bringing him from part-time employment to full-time staff."

  "Was this his idea or yours?"

  "Mine, I guess. I don't know. We talked about it during workouts, and it just happened organically. It may have been him who first suggested it, but it felt like my idea." I went from being supremely confident to completely unsure in just a matter of seconds.

  "And, he introduced you to Rose Landon?"

  "Yes." I was back to being sure again.

  "When was this?"

  "Eighteen months ago. Kristie had left without notice after eloping one weekend, and I was suddenly without childcare for Halle. Stuart noticed what a wreck I was trying to get Halle fed at breakfast that morning. He told me had a friend who was looking for work. She didn't have any nanny experience, but she'd done some babysitting and was a hard worker. Most importantly to me, she could start right away."

  "So, you hired her?"

  "I interviewed her that afternoon, hired her that evening, and she started the next day."

  "Did you check her references?"

  "I didn't need to. Stuart was her reference." I suddenly felt like I was under the hot lights of an interrogation room, and my forehead began to bead with perspiration.

  Tom said, "As a friend, yes, but did you call any of her past employers?"

  "That was Stuart, too."

  "Stuart was her employer for babysitting?"

  "No. She helped him with some odd jobs here and there – moving boxes, setting up equipment, and selling some nutrition protein shakes for building muscle. You know, those kinds of temp jobs."

  "And, you didn't ask for any proof that she'd ever done any babysitting?" The way Tom asked made me feel like the worst parent on the planet. It had all happened so organically, it didn't seem so irresponsible in the moment. Only now, in hindsight, I could see what a damn fool I was.

  Defensively, I said, "Rose told me she wanted to get permission from the parents of the kids she babysat for before she gave out their number, which I thought sounded very considerate at the time."

  "Was she a good nanny?" he asked. I felt my forehead sweating even more. I didn't like talking about Rose, especially in front of Rachelle, but I had to be open and honest if I wanted Tom to help me.

  "She was okay. My interest in her was in other areas," I said, and I saw Rachelle shift uncomfortably in her seat.

  "I see." Tom li
fted a brow, but didn't comment further. Switching gears, he asked, "Did you ever ask Stuart if he had a sexual or romantic relationship with Rose?

  "Not specifically. She said they'd dated in the past, but it was over by the time she and I were involved. I didn't ask any further details. As long as I was the only one she was fucking at the time, I was satisfied."

  I glanced over at Rachelle to see how she was reacting to all this talk about my sexual relationship with Rose, but her expressionless face gave me no indication of what was going on inside her mind.

  He drew my attention back by asking, "Have you asked Stuart about his relationship with Rose?"

  "No. What he's done in his personal life in the past is none of my business. As his employer, I can't really ask."

  "But you can contractually obligate your employees to fuck you?" he asked pointedly, and I couldn't even find the courage to look over at Rachelle.

  It's not like that," I flustered. "Rose knew she didn't really have to fuck me. The contract was just for fun."

  "It may not have seemed fun to everyone. Rose's ex-boyfriend may have thought it was grounds for revenge," Tom pointed out, solemnly. I realized he was right. If it wasn't for me, Rose would probably still be alive.

  Tom asked a lot of questions, carefully mapping out how it could have been possible for Stuart to frame me for Rose's murder. He had a key to the house, so that explained why there were no signs of anyone breaking in. He knew his way around and could easily have turned off the power to the security cameras. He also knew when I'd be home and when the place would be empty.

  "Framing you for Rose's murder wasn’t working," Rachelle said, "but then he really screwed up when he tried to attack me but failed."

  "Maybe it wasn't a mistake," I said to her. "Maybe he wanted you to see the shoes he was wearing because he knew I had the same pair in my closet."

  "Or maybe he missed and plans to try again." Rachelle shuddered, and I felt the same chill run down my spine.

  "I won't let that happen," I vowed. "Let's get that asshole in here right now, and we'll get him to confess. Then we can put him away forever."

  "No. Never confront a suspected killer," Tom was quick to interfere. "You don't how he'll react. He could be violent, or he could flee. It's best to go through the police and let them handle it."

  "Miller hates my guts. You want me to call him? He'll probably arrest me before he listens to what I have to say about Stuart."

  "Let me handle it." Tom started packing up his briefcase. "I just need a little time to take care of some things at the office first, make sure Miller can't penalize you for some technicality."

  "What kind of technicality?” Rachelle clutched my arm with a worried look in her beautiful blue eyes.

  "If I know Miller, he'll think of something. Impeding a police investigation, harboring a fugitive, accomplice after the fact... Don't worry; I've got mountains of precedent on this kind of thing to keep you out of trouble. I just need time to review them."

  "This is why I keep writing you checks," I said with chagrin.

  "Well, prepare another one. In the meantime, I want you two to just keep acting normal. You can't let Stuart become suspicious."

  "You mean, keep letting him come into my home, cook meals for my daughter, and walk around like everything is fine?" I was horrified.

  "Yes. Do you think you can both handle that?" Tom looked pointedly from me to Rachelle and then back again. Rachelle and I looked at each other with uncertainty.

  Sensing our hesitation, he said, "I know it sounds frightening, but I truly believe this is the best way to ensure Halle's safety, clear your name, and get justice for Rose."

  Tom's speech hit home. Rachelle and I exchanged a meaningful look before taking each other by the hand.

  "Yes," she said confidently.

  She was an incredible woman. Even after all she'd been through and everything she'd just heard, she was still willing to do whatever it took to stand by my side. I knew without a doubt I was falling in love with her. It made me more driven than ever to catch the monster who tried to hurt her like he had done to Rose.

  "Yes," I said past the lump in my throat. "I'll do whatever I have to do to catch that asshole."

  "Good." Tom snapped shut his briefcase. "Because it's going to get a lot harder from here."

  Chapter Forty-Three: Rachelle

  Just keep acting normal. Just keep acting normal. It was a lot easier said than done. Halle was playing happily with Missy when I returned to the nursery, blissfully ignorant of the turmoil that was around her.

  Missy excused herself from Halle's tea party and crossed the room to me, eyeing me suspiciously. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

  "Nothing. Why?" I said, sounding way too jumpy.

  "Yeah, right. You're white as bird shit. What happened, you and Romeo have a fight?" She laughed obnoxiously.

  My annoyance at her helped me to regain my composure. "No, I just don't like having someone else doing my job," I snapped at her.

  "Well, get used to it. I've been gone from my little girl way too long. I admit, I was fucked up for a long time, but now I'm getting my shit together, and I'm here to stay. Halle and I are going to be spending a lot more time together. A little girl needs to be raised by her real mother, not just the hired help."

  My blood raged through my veins. How dare this junkie think she has the right to call herself a mother after spending just a few days with her kid. I was the one who'd been teaching her songs, giving her baths, and tucking her in at night. Now this obnoxious bitch thought she could just shove me aside?

  If Halle weren't there, I'd have slapped Missy, but being forced to remain calm made me see that she did have a point. Like it or not, Missy had given birth to Halle and would always be her biological mother. Halle had been so happy these past few days, showing her mother all her favorite toys and playing with her for hours at a time. If Missy could get off the drugs and out of the streets, it was bound to be a good thing for Halle. She obviously loved her mother, and as long as Missy was making an effort to be with her daughter, maybe I should support that. Despite myself, my heart began to soften just a little towards the ex-stripper.

  Halle tugged at my skirt, and asked sweetly, "What's fucked up mean?"

  I tried not to laugh. Maybe it was better to minimize Missy's contact with Halle, after all.

  I scooped the child up into my arms and said gently, "That's not a word you should repeat."

  "Sorry. I'm not used to watching my language. Shit." Missy blushed. Then she realized she'd cursed again, and her cheeks turned an even brighter shade of fuchsia. "Damn, I did it again. Fuck."

  I couldn't help but laugh. It lightened the mood and allowed Missy to laugh at herself, too. "I guess maybe I should take a break from childcare for a while."

  "Don't go, Mommy." Halle reached out her arms frantically for her mother, straining to get free of my grasp.

  "It's okay. I'll be back in the morning. I just to relax by myself for a little while" She took the child into her arms and stroked her curls soothingly. "Come into my room when you wake up, and we'll have breakfast together. Then we’ll play all day."

  "You're not leaving?" Halle wiped at her eyes.

  "No, I'm never going to leave you again. I wasn't a good mom for a long time, but I'm ready to be one now. I'm going to make the changes I need to make so we can always be together."

  Halle wrapped her arms around Missy's neck and squeezed tight. Missy's once-angry face became peaceful as she closed her eyes and hugged her daughter back. Suddenly, I felt like an intruder in the middle of their tender moment.

  When the moment had ended, Missy handed her back to me, saying to Halle, "Go back to Rachelle now and let her take care of you. I've got to go to my room and rest."

  "You promise to play with me tomorrow?" Halle's eyes were large.

  "I promise." Missy kissed her cheek. Then she turned to me and said, "I'm not used to how much hard work it takes to care for a kid. Shit.
I've got a new respect for bitches like you."

  It was the closest thing to a compliment I'd ever gotten from Missy, and I decided to take it in the manner she intended it.

  "Thanks, Missy. You should be proud of yourself for the efforts you're making to be a better mom."

  She gave Halle a final kiss on the cheek and left. Afterwards, the little girl was particularly whiny. I cut her some slack and didn't discipline her. I couldn't imagine what it must be like to suffer the rollercoaster of emotions this sweet young girl had gone through with her drug-addicted mother, billionaire father, and a string of servants and nannies.

  Eventually, she settled down. I had Emma bring a simple dinner for the two us up to the nursery, using the excuse that Halle was feeling overwrought. The partial truth allowed me to avoid seeing Stuart without raising any suspicions, although I could hardly eat the food I knew he'd prepared. I wanted nothing to do with anything he'd touched ever again.

  After dinner, I gave Halle a bath, read her some books, and then tucked in into bed. She was so exhausted from her afternoon playing with Missy that she fell right to sleep.

  I went to my room exhausted by the day, drew a hot bath, and slipped into the steaming water. It felt good to soak away the stresses of a long and exhausting day. As my muscles relaxed in the water, my mind wandered to Tate, and I found myself hoping he would call for me that night. I craved his touch and didn't want to go a day without the feel of his hands on my flesh or his manhood inside me. There were times when I thought I'd do anything to have him. He was my own addiction, and the thought helped me to understand Missy a little bit better.

  When I got out of the tub, I was pleasantly surprised to find a piece of paper had been slipped under my door. I unfolded it and saw at once it was a note from Tate.

  Please join me in my room tonight when you're ready, his distinctive handwriting said.

  My heart fluttered as I took off my towel and slipped into a little black silk negligee, my damp hair was still piled my hair high on my head in a sloppy bun, and I decided to leave it that way, hoping it would please him. Then I wrapped my robe around my body and tiptoed down the hall to the master bedroom suite.

 

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