by Alexa Hart
“So, you’re going to hide me out here?”
“In a way,” he nods.
I glance up at him. He has that smirk on his face again. If it weren’t so goddamn sexy, I’d be annoyed out of my mind right now. “You ever heard of hiding in plain sight?” Dax asks.
“Um, sure, but the Century Tower isn’t exactly plain sight. Unless you think whoever ransacked my place is also a billionaire who’s pissed you got the better penthouse.” Or my dad, I worry to myself, who wanted to build here first.
Dax raises his eyebrows and Carl coughs. “What we think is that whoever came after you is under the impression you mean more to me than you actually do. We need to show them you’re just another employee. No more. No less.”
“Do you often invite employees and their dogs to live with you? Because I feel like this plan has some major holes in it,” I say sarcastically as we ride up on the elevator.
“Not exactly, but there are a few exceptions,” Dax says.
I blink dumbly. My mouth had gone completely dry. “I don’t, you know, do what we did, for money or….” I turn to Carl. “I don’t know what he told you, but it wasn’t like that.”
“Relax,” Dax chuckles. “I don’t need that type of service. And I told you, that wasn’t a regular occurrence for me. The other night was special to me. Just relax.”
Before I can register my shock at what he just said, the elevator dings open. We step out just as the penthouse door across from the elevator swings open and the cutest, dark-haired, little girl comes bolting straight out, leaping into Dax’s arms. He effortlessly lifts her up and kisses her cheek. Behind her, an icy blonde in a tight black business dress and jacket looks at me with thinly masked suspicion and less thinly masked disdain.
“You’re home early!” Dax says as he playfully swings the little girl.
“Her French tutor had a cold,” the blonde woman says.
“Quel dommage!” I say. Suddenly the entire group is looking at me in surprise.
“It means, what a pity.” The little girl whispers.
“Oui!” I say, smiling at the girl.
The little girl leans into Dax’s chest and whispers in his ear. “Who is she?” Then she turns back, still clinging to him and looks at me with curiosity. I like her instantly. She has sparkling, vibrant eyes and she seems about as sweet and gentle as Dax does not. I can instantly tell that she is his daughter because they have the same black hair and something else in the eyes, sharp intelligence; she is a mini version of Dax. The only difference is that her father seems to take command of every room he to walks into, and this sweet girl seems painfully shy. Though she was affectionate and warm with her father, as soon as he sets her down, she hides behind his muscular legs. She only peeks around him when I set Samson down. He trots up to her without hesitation.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “He’s super friendly, his name is Samson.”
“Samson,” she repeats, her voice as low as a whisper. Samson nudges her arm and she pets him gently.
“He likes you,” I tell her.
“He does?” she asks.
“Mmm-hmm.” I kneel down and smile at her. “And you should know, he is an excellent judge of character.” I hold out my hand. “Hi. My name is Hannah.”
“I’m Lily,” she says, timidly.
“Hannah and Samson are going to be staying with us for a while,” Dax interrupts.
The girl stops petting Samson and looks up at Dax in surprise. Her face shows none of the fear or intimidation you would expect from someone in close proximity to Dax Hardin, just curiosity. The blonde woman looks less than thrilled. More like she swallowed a lemon.
“Hannah is going to be your new nanny,” he announces, his eyes lingering on me.
The blonde woman finally speaks. “The new nanny?” She asks. “But I haven’t finished the interviews. And we didn’t even have someone named Hannah in the search pool….”
“Aster,” Dax holds up his hand. “I’m sorry I kept you out of the loop on this one, but I’ve made my decision.”
Dax gives her a sharp look and she clasps her hands together, immediately chastened, but still obviously annoyed. “Hannah, excellent. Welcome to the team.” She bites out through slightly clenched teeth.
“Nanny, huh?” I cock my head at him. It’s actually pretty clever. I know I don’t have a choice in the matter, but I do love kids, so it’s actually a great fit. Plus, Lily seems like the sweetest little girl I’ve ever met, I instantly like her—though we’re going to need to work on getting her to speak up a bit. Kids her age are usually told to quiet down, not speak up!
The only problem is that now I’m even more puzzled by Dax Hardin than ever. This version of him, gentle dad and rescuer of one-night stands, is softer than I could have ever imagined. I tell myself he’s just a puzzle I’m trying to solve, but I also know I’d be better off staying far away from him. Puzzles you can’t solve tend to break your heart.
I look at the girl and smile. Samson has already flopped on his back so that Lily can give him the optimal tummy rub. “Lily,” I say, with all sincerity. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
Lily smiles and I look up and catch Dax staring at me with a warmth I wasn’t expecting. His look is almost tender, but it’s gone before I can even confirm I saw it. He steps into the penthouse and motions for Aster to follow.
Aster holds the door open as we all shuffle in, and I’m dumbfounded, the penthouse is beautiful. Stunning really. Though I am not usually impressed by luxury, I can’t help but admire the giant windows that reveal a breathtaking Boston skyline, the city twinkling in the darkness. The elegant, almost startling interior design of warm gold-toned wood contrasted against cold metal is like Dax himself. The tension of the warmth of the wood floors and custom built-in shelves and cabinets contrasting, but also accentuating the metal accents, it couldn’t be more fitting. The place feels like him, warm one moment and cold the next, all wrapped up in a beautiful package. I feel at home as soon as I step inside, just as I’d felt at home the moment he first touched me in my kitchen a few days ago.
Aster leads us through the foyer and dining room into a formal living room. We walk past the kitchen and I see a razor-backed woman in a chef’s hat and black chef’s uniform chopping something on a cutting board. Aster stops at a small hallway to the left of the living room.
“Your room is there,” she points to the first door. “And Lily is next to you.”
I try to focus on Aster as she talks about water pressure and something about a key to the swimming pool, but the aroma of whatever the chef is cooking in the kitchen completely distracts me. I haven’t eaten, except for half a burger I wolfed down at work for lunch and much to my embarrassment, my stomach growls. Lily giggles.
“You’re hungry,” Dax says.
Like most of what Dax says, it is a statement, not a question. I turn to look at him. He has unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, revealing just a touch of his skin. It takes everything I have not to reach out and caress it.
“A little,” I say. He smiles that wolfish smile again, he knows what I am really hungry for, but the smile vanishes quickly and the cold metal look returns to his stunning features. I wish I could read his thoughts the way he seems to be able to read mine.
“We can all eat together,” Lily says excitedly.
“Sorry, Lily,” Aster clears her throat, “Chef only made enough for you and your dad. I didn’t realize we’d have company. And I have a stack of paperwork as well as a very angry message from the mayor that I need to deal with. Dax, we should really get to work.”
The way Aster says we when she refers to the two of them makes me prickle with jealousy. And a quick glance at Lily says she doesn’t like it either. Maybe Dax and his assistant have a little more than a professional relationship.
“You’re right,” he says to Aster. “Hannah can have my dinner, just ask Chef to cook up a steak for me to be brought to my office.”
“Bloody?” As
ter asks.
“Just the way a wolf boss likes it,” I say.
Dax smiles at me and my knees go jelly-like.
“Wolf boss?” Lily whispers.
“It’s a new nickname from work,” he winks at her. “Lily, can you give Hannah a quick tour before bed?”
“No problem, Daddy,” Lily says quietly.
“What about if I have…. I don’t know… a question?” I ask nervously. “Or... um... need the wifi password?” I blush at how dumb I sound, but I don’t want him to leave. I feel safer when he’s around, even if he’s impossible to read.
Before Dax can speak, Aster snaps out, “Mr. Hardin doesn’t need to be bothered with trivialities. Any questions you have, you can direct to me. You have no reason to interact directly with Mr. Hardin.”
“Oh... okay, roger that.” I say, giving her an awkward little salute.
Dax looks like he wants to say something, but he holds back. Instead, he nods once, coldly, and walks away, Aster’s heels clicking after him to keep up. Lily pets Samson happily and I am left to wonder what the hell kind of mess I have gotten myself into.
Chapter 10
Hannah
Dax’s personal chef, a middle-aged French woman who seems so rigid and tough, she could have worked at a Russian gulag just as easily as any fancy French restaurant, sets us up at the formal dining table with a dish of salmon and beans. The dining room is very formal and a bit stifling, and I decide right then that I’m going to figure out a warmer style of food consumption as soon as possible. When my mom moved us into our first apartment in the city, we hadn’t had a dining room table, we couldn’t even afford one. She’d spread a blanket out across the floor and we’d have picnics. I know now that we did it because she couldn’t afford a table, but at the time it just felt like an adventure. I have a feeling Lily could use some adventure way more than a dining room where you can hear your own voice echo when you talk.
From under the table, Samson whines like a spoiled baby, which isn’t too far from the truth, and I wink at Lily as I sneak Samson a few bits of salmon when the chef isn’t looking. Lily erupts in a fit of giggles.
After dinner, Lily gives me a tour of her room, or more accurately, she gives Samson one. She still seems too shy to engage directly with me, but Samson proves a useful companion, though she’s still practically whispering as she takes us into her room.
When I walk into Lily’s room the first thing I notice are the ballet posters. Not just ordinary posters, autographed posters!
“Whoa,” I say. “That’s Misty Copeland. And Natalia Osipova. You like ballet?” I ask, turning to her.
“I love it,” she says. “Do you?”
I nod and then do the best pirouette into an arabesque I can manage in a pair of skinny jeans. Lily applauds.
“That was awesome,” she says. Her voice is almost at normal volume and I realize this is my shot. I sit down next to Samson on the floor and pat the ground for Lily to sit next to me. She sits down. “Listen, Lily,” I say. “We have a teeny-tiny problem.”
She looks at me, eyes wide with concern. This kid is nine going on thirty.
“Don’t worry! It’s not a big deal at all,” I promise. “But Samson is an old dog. He’s thirteen in human years which is like….” I start to count in my head.
“Ninety-one,” she says softly. “In dog years.”
“That’s right. Samson, take note, Lily is kind, loves ballet, and is a complete math whiz. A powerful trifecta of awesomeness. So back to the problem. My ninety-one-year-old dog may act like a baby, but he’s got some old dog issues. Flatulence, for one, unfortunately.” I hold my nose exaggeratedly and Lily giggles. Samson cocks his head at me as if I’ve offended him. “You know it’s true, Samson. Don’t deny it!” I turn back to Lily. “And, also, he can’t hear that well. So, when you talk to him, or us, you’re going to have to talk just a little louder. Do you think you can do that?”
“Okay,” she whispers.
Samson snorts and shakes his head. “I agree, Samson,” I say. “She needs to be a little louder. Nothing drastic. Just maybe we could go from a whisper to a stage whisper. Want to try again?”
“O-kay,” Lily says, a little louder.
“Better,” I reach out my hand and give her a high-five. “We’ll keep practicing.”
I fish around in my purse and pull out a dog treat. I hand it to Lily. “These are some of his favorites,” I say. “But you have to tell him to sing before he can have one.”
“Sing? Lily asks, quizzically.
“Hm-hmm.” I nod. “Samson always dreamed of being a singer. Watch,” I hold out a treat. “Samson, sing,” I say. Samson raises his head and lets out a small out-of-tune howl. Lily bursts out laughing. I give Samson the treat and scratch him on the head. “I never said he was good at it,” I shake my head.
I hand Lily a treat. “You try. But you have to say it like a command. Stand up, shoulders back, no whispering.”
She nods and stands up, clearing her throat. “Samson, sing!” she says. Samson lets out another howl and Lily giggles and gives him the treat. “That’s so amazing,” she says.
“And that was some awesome commanding!”
“You’re not like any of my other nannies,” she says.
“Have you had a lot of nannies?”
She frowns. “Aster is super picky, and they’re usually old and kind of, I don’t know, crusty.”
“Yeah, that’s the way someone should be describing stale bread, not a friend. I can promise you that I am still pretty young, and nobody has ever described me as crusty. At least not to my face.” I stick out my tongue. “Truthfully, I’m not a nanny. Or at least this is my first nanny gig.”
“I can tell,” Lily says.
“Ouch. What gave it away?” I laugh.
“You’re too nice, you said we were friends, and you don’t wear glasses. You do speak French though, so that was confusing.”
“Ahh, well, actually, until very recently, I was a ballet dancer,” I say. “And I learned French in school. Every good dancer should know some French!”
Lily’s face freezes in happy shock. “Really? Like a real ballet dancer. On stage? I love it!”
“Yeah, I’m guessing that’s why your daddy hired me despite my excellent vision.” I hear a knock on the door and turn to find Aster frowning down at both of us.
“I heard howling,” she says testily. “And Lily, you’re supposed to be in bed. It’s fifteen minutes past nine.”
“Sorry,” I stand up. “That was my fault. The howling too. I got... um... distracted. It’s only fifteen minutes though.”
Aster shakes her head at me like I am the biggest idiot she’s ever met. “Mr. Hardin does not tolerate incompetence. Or a distraction as an excuse.”
“Howling’s probably out too then,” I wink at Lily. “So, right. Okay,” I turn to Lily. “Let’s get you to bed. How do we do that?”
Lily laughs again. “Wait here while I get my pajamas on and brush my teeth. Do you know any good stories?”
“Um, I know the plots of tons of ballets,” I say.
“Perfect. Tell me Swan Lake!”
Lily goes into a small bathroom off of her room and Aster walks over to me. “You can cut the charade, Ms. Gibbons. You don’t have to go overboard with Lily. Dax has informed me of who you really are and why you’re here. How very lucky you are.”
“Yeah? Having my apartment destroyed doesn’t feel that lucky,” I counter.
“Unless it got you just what you wanted,” she says. “You wouldn’t be the first woman to try to trick her way into Dax’s life.”
I suddenly feel like I am back at the ballet company, only Aster is way more intimidating than the girls I used to have to compete against. “What is it you want, Aster?” I ask. “It might make things easier if we just get that out of the way now.”
Aster straightens her suit coat. “Carl should be back with the rest of your luggage shortly. And you’ll need this.” Aster hands
me a phone.
I look at it in confusion. “What’s this?”
“Your new phone. And I’ll need your old one.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s probably a cheap piece of garbage and a very hackable security hazard. Now hand it over. Dax’s orders.”
I frown and pull my phone out of my purse, handing it to Aster, who smiles smugly. “You’ll get this back when you leave, which don’t fool yourself, will be very soon. For now, this phone,” she points to the new one, “has your daily itinerary already programmed into the calendar. Contact information for myself, Lily’s teachers, dietary notes, etc. You’ll need to go through the motions, but I’ll pick up the slack and make sure Lily is safe and taken care of. We expect excellence from any actual employee, but you can just do your best.”
“That’s all very thorough,” I say. “And I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Lily.”
“These are Mr. Hardin’s orders, not mine,” she says. “He’d like me to keep an eye on you.”
“I see,” I say. I try not to seem hurt, but I must not be a very good actress because I can feel the smug satisfaction basically radiating off of her. Thankfully, before Aster can get in any last digs, Lily comes out of the bathroom in PJs and a ponytail. She climbs into bed and pulls the blankets up to her chin.
“Five minutes,” Aster says.
“I’ll tell the fastest version of Swan Lake ever,” I nod.
“And she needs the door left open and the hall light on. She has nightmares.”
“You can go now, Aster,” Lily says, quietly but firmly.
“Text if you need me,” Aster says to Lily.
“You have a cell phone?” I ask Lily in amazement. “I didn’t get one until I was fifteen!”
“Only for emergencies,” Lily says. “No games.”
Aster leaves and I take a seat on the bed next to Lily. I tell the most abridged version of Swan Lake I can manage, and meanwhile, Samson jumps up on the bed and snuggles next to her.