I stuck out my hand. “That sounds remarkably like we have a deal, Miss Winter.”
She stared at my outstretched hand for so long, I was convinced another decline was imminent. Then she nodded.
“I’d say we do, Mr. Ellis.”
Her hand slipped inside mine, her skin cool and smooth. I suppressed a pleasurable shiver, my physical reaction to a woman’s touch momentarily overriding the protective barriers I’d erected years before. I gave a brief, firm shake, then withdrew.
“I’ll let your agent know you’ve reconsidered then.” I got to my feet.
“Thank you,” she replied.
She saw me out. I walked through the door, then glanced over my shoulder to find her watching me leave, a puzzled expression on her face as though she was having difficulty processing something. Then she held up a hand in greeting and disappeared inside.
A pang of loneliness squeezed inside my chest, its sudden appearance confusing me. I brushed it aside and sent a text to Mom.
Time to start packing.
5
Harlow
Two days after my interview, the cab driver dropped me outside Oliver’s apartment building. I paid the fare, then hoisted my two suitcases from the trunk, their battered exteriors housing everything I owned. Not much to show for twenty-five years of life. But at least they belonged to me, paid for with money I earned, and they didn’t come with unreasonable demands from my parents to conform to their way of life.
A twinge of regret pinched at my insides. I wished things were different, that I had a warm and loving family who couldn’t go a day without speaking to each other, or texting. Even my brothers, who I knew loved me, also judged my lack of academic credentials. Every one of them truly believed it was a simple case of working harder or longer. With their big brains, they just couldn’t understand that not everyone was made up of the same building blocks, that we had different skill sets, and not all of those commanded a large paycheck.
Shrugging off my melancholy mood, I tipped back my head and gazed up at the imposing building that would be my home for the next three months. At least securing this position would buy me the time to look for a permanent, long-term job, and saved me from crawling to my parents with a begging bowl.
When I’d capitulated to the job offer after Oliver’s visit, I’d carried out a little research into him. He part owned a large, multinational company called ROGUES which he ran with five friends from college. They had a diverse business portfolio with companies in construction, agriculture, and telecommunications. They even had a very successful and growing hotel chain across North America, as well as owning several exotic dance clubs under the brand name Poles Apart.
Didn’t need to be a genius to work out what went on inside those particular establishments.
Apart from Oliver’s extremely successful professional life, there were slim pickings on anything personal. His Wiki page mentioned he had a daughter, but no reference to a wife, either present or past. Maybe Annie was the result of a surrogate? After all, these days, you didn’t have to be in a relationship to become a parent. Lots of people chose the surrogate route. And given the amount of financial backing Oliver had, I didn’t imagine it would be hard to find a woman willing to carry a child for a rich billionaire—for an exorbitant fee, no doubt.
I gave my name at reception, hoping I didn’t have to do that every single time. After handing me a small card with a code on it—same as last time—she pointed to the elevator. Nerves swarmed through my abdomen as I punched in the code and rode up to the top floor. I hated the first day of any job, but this one carried an additional influx of anxiety. Oliver might have reassured me I had nothing to fear from him, but once his mother left on her trip, I’d be all alone in the house with a young, virulent man. A man I’d already inappropriately made a pass at. A man who, despite the lies I liked to tell myself, I found attractive.
Not that it mattered. However nice Oliver appeared to be on the surface, I must not allow myself to fall back into bad habits, seeking validation and affection from the first guy who’d have me. That kind of behavior had led me to the likes of Carter, and look what a cheating asshole he turned out to be.
Then again, maybe Oliver was gay, and that was why he’d so vehemently stated that I wouldn’t have to put up with any sexual advances the likes of which I’d suffered at my last placement.
Whatever the circumstances, in a strange way, I relished the idea of proving to myself that I didn’t need a man in my life. That I could not only manage alone, but that I excelled at it.
Oliver’s mother greeted me in the foyer. “Harlow, how wonderful to see you again,” she said. “Do come on in.”
I expected her to ask me why I’d declined the job offer and then done a complete about face and accepted it a couple of hours later. She didn’t. Maybe Oliver had squared it with her, offering up a plausible explanation for my flip-flopping actions.
“Let me show you to your room and then I’ll give you a tour of the apartment,” she said.
“Is Mr. Ellis not here?” I asked, glancing around, both longing and dreading seeing him.
“No, he’s at work. My son works very long hours. You won’t see very much of him Monday through Friday. He’ll leave right after you leave to take Annie to school in the morning and return in the evening in time for her bath and bed routine. After she’s gone to sleep, he eats dinner, then usually retires to his office for the rest of the night.” She sighed, her face darkening, her lips pinching at the edges. “I wish he’d take more time off, but there we are. I do hope it won’t be too lonely for you here.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I murmured, conflicting feelings of relief and disappointment at what she’d shared coursing through me.
“Now Saturday and Sunday, they’re a different matter. Did your agent tell you that you’ll have most weekends off?”
I nodded. “It surprised me, to be honest. Most families I’ve worked with, they want me around on the weekends.”
“That saddens me.” Her face softened. “Despite the hours my son works, he always makes sure he has time for Annie. It’s important to him that she understands the central role she has in his life. Nothing is more important to my son than his daughter.”
Jesus. This guy is definitely up for a Father of the Year award.
But no one was that perfect. There had to be a chink in his armor somewhere, a reason he lived as a single dad.
Mrs. Ellis took one of my suitcases from me, despite my assurance it wasn’t necessary, then set off up the winding, contemporary staircase with its glass paneling and chrome handrails. At the top, it split off left and right. She turned left, heading in the same direction as Annie’s room, drawing to a halt two doors down from the little girl’s bedroom.
“Here we are.” She opened the door and gestured for me to go inside. The room was large, fully furnished with a king-sized bed, a large dresser, and a walk-in closet. It also had its own en suite bathroom. I crossed over to the window.
“Oh, I can see the park from here,” I exclaimed. The view wasn’t as good as the one I’d seen from the living room and the room where I’d been interviewed, but damn, I wasn’t complaining.
Mrs. Ellis joined me. “Beautiful, isn’t it? The park is the reason my son bought the place. Oliver loved the idea of Annie having open green space right on her doorstep. It’s difficult to find clean air in a city as overpopulated as Manhattan.”
“It is,” I agreed.
“Right, let’s do a whistle-stop tour, and then we’ll go through Annie’s schedule, as well as touching on Oliver’s, too.”
It took her an hour to show me around the ten thousand square foot penthouse. The place was enormous. I could fit my old apartment in a tiny corner of one room. As we arrived back in the main living area, panic took root in my chest. My parents were comfortably off, and I’d grown up in a nice five-bedroomed house, but nothing like this. What if I spilled coffee on the expensive rug in the living room, or
Annie scrawled on the wall with a Sharpie? God forbid I’d drop a chocolate bar down the side of the cream sofa in the library.
This is wealth I couldn’t even imagine before today. Sure, I’d worked for well-off families, but not billionaire wealthy families.
“You look a little perturbed if you don’t mind me saying.”
I turned my gaze to Mrs. Ellis. “It’s pristine,” I said. “How do you keep it so nice with a child around?”
She chuckled. “We don’t.”
I arched an eyebrow, drawing another chuckle from her.
“Wait until you’ve been here a while, then you’ll start to notice things. Like over there.” She pointed a perfectly manicured pink nail. “Oliver made that dent in the wall. He thought it would be a good idea to play soccer in here with Annie. He kicked the ball and knocked my favorite crystal vase off that table. It smashed and gouged out a large piece of drywall. Annie laughed so much, Oliver refused to have the wall mended.” She smiled. “This isn’t a home where you should be afraid to spill. We spill.”
My nerves evaporated. “Thank God,” I said, an image of Oliver playing with his daughter warming my insides. I’d worked with so many parents where the dads were absent most of the time, leaving all the parenting to the woman.
Which reminded me…
“I hope you don’t think I’m being nosy, but where is Annie’s mother?”
For the first time, a flash of pure rage crossed her face. Her lips flattened, and her eyes took on this hard glint that I have to say, I found more than a little scary. Mrs. Ellis was fierce.
“In Hell, I hope,” she bit out, her hands making fists by her sides.
Taken aback, I waited for her to expand. She didn’t. Shit. I’d well and truly fucked up. It answered one question, though: Oliver wasn’t gay.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
Her features smoothed, and she unfurled her hands. “Please don’t apologize. It’s a perfectly reasonable question, but one I’d rather not answer.”
“I understand,” I said, even though I didn’t understand a damned thing.
“Well, I have some things to attend to.” She gestured around the room. “Please, make yourself at home. I’ll come find you when it’s time to pick up Annie from school.”
She swept out of the room, leaving me alone in the huge, empty space.
With my curiosity raging, I trudged upstairs to unpack.
6
Oliver
The elevator doors closed, and I slumped against the back wall. My brain was operating on about five percent battery, and I felt exhausted and irritable. I’d had a shitty day at the office. The deal I’d been working on for months was on the edge of collapse despite the entire team putting in hundreds of hours trying to find common ground.
That wasn’t the biggest reason for my malaise, though.
From now on, everything changed.
Today, Harlow had moved in.
Tomorrow, Mom would move out.
Not permanently, but enough to make me feel uneasy.
I left my briefcase in the foyer, ready to pick up again in the morning. I had no intention of working this evening. I was too damned tired, and I wanted to spend some time with my daughter, eat dinner, and crash.
Entering the main living room, I stopped dead, drinking in the scene that greeted me. Harlow and Annie were in the kitchen, baking. Annie was covered in flour, her hands buried deep in a bowl, but it was the way her face shone with sheer excitement, her smile open and wide, that had my heart squeezing in the most joyous of ways.
“Hey, munchkin,” I called out.
Her head snapped up. “Daddy!” she exclaimed. She jumped off her step and ran over to me, trailing clouds of flour in her wake.
“Annie, no!” Harlow called out as my daughter flung herself at me, covering my suit in white dust and greasy butter.
I picked her up and swung her in the air, covering her face in kisses. “Are you having fun?”
“Oh, Daddy, the best fun. Simply the best. We’re making cookies and cupcakes.”
“Ooh, how marvelous,” I said, grinning. “I can’t wait to try them.”
She wriggled, wanting me to set her down. “I haven’t finished yet. You’re home too early.”
“Oh no.” I put her on the floor. “Have I ruined the surprise?”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Yes, you have.”
I pressed my fingertips to my lips. “Oops.”
I turned my attention to Harlow, who looked horrified, her eyes wide as she hurriedly rinsed a damp cloth under the faucet.
“Don’t sweat it. I have plenty of suits. I only have one daughter.”
She dropped the cloth in the sink, flushed a deep shade of burgundy, and tucked her chin into her chest. “I’m sorry.”
Hell, she thought I’d reprimanded her. Off to a great start, dickhead.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” I strolled into the kitchen and scraped my finger along the edge of the mixing bowl, tasting the cake mixture. “Yum.”
“Hands off,” Harlow scolded, her embarrassed flush beating a hasty retreat. She moved the bowl out of my reach.
“Yes, Daddy, hands off,” Annie parroted, a girlish giggle spilling from her lips.
Harlow nudged Annie’s shoulder and nodded as if to say, “That told him.” Annie made a fist and bumped hers against Harlow’s.
The tension that had been riding me for days melted away, replaced by immense relief. We’d made the right choice. Annie’s obvious happiness was a testament to that, and it was only day one.
“Do you know where my mother is?” I asked Harlow.
She jerked her chin. “She’s upstairs finishing packing.”
“Right.” I kissed the top of Annie’s head. “You okay if I go see Nanan, munchkin?”
“Yeah,” she replied, barely paying any attention to me. She was far too interested in watching Harlow spoon the mixture into the cupcake wrappers.
I jogged upstairs and found Mom in her room, several cases opened on the bed, and clothes strewn everywhere.
“Oh, Oliver,” she exclaimed when she noticed me loitering by the door. “Thank goodness you’re here. Tell me, how do I pack for three months away from home? What if I forget something?”
Chuckling, I walked inside and put my arms around her. “Then you buy it. Jeez, Mom. You’re going on a cruise around the world, not being dumped in Siberia. There will be stores. You have credit cards. Stop stressing.”
She patted my shoulder. “You’re right. Of course you’re right.” She glanced at her watch. “You’re home early?”
“Yeah. Challenging day at work. And I wanted to see how the new nanny had fared on her first day.”
“Swimmingly,” Mom said. “They’re thick as thieves already. Have you seen what they’re up to in the kitchen?”
I pointed to the flour and grease on the lapel of my suit. “You could say that.”
Mom smiled. “She’s perfect, Oliver. You won’t have any trouble with her at all.”
“I think you’re right.” I kissed her cheek. “I’m off to shower before dinner. See you downstairs.”
I stood under the hot spray, my head bent, and allowed the water to cascade over my back. Seeing Harlow interact with Annie had taken a load off my mind. Ever since Mom had dropped her bombshell, I’d felt jittery, on edge, worried about leaving my daughter with a stranger, even if it was only for a few hours each day. I’d still prefer my mom to be here, but Harlow would act as a wonderful substitute.
And I liked her.
The wayward thought crashed its way into my mind without warning.
I barely knew her.
Yet I had good instincts, ones I’d learned to trust over the last seven years of inhabiting the business world where everyone you met was trying to destroy you just so they could get ahead. Good people, truly good, were damned hard to find, yet I seemed to have stumbled on one by sheer good fortune.
And she s
melled so fucking amazing. Like peaches. Ripe and sweet.
My cock twitched, surprising the hell out of me. Even more surprising was finding my hand wrapped around the shaft when I had no memory of putting it there.
I pulled once, twice, a third time. Groaning, I closed my eyes, recalling the memory of Harlow’s soft lips that had so briefly pressed against mine outside the bar last week. Her wretched horror when she’d walked into my living room for her interview and seen me standing there. The guts and determination she’d drawn on to make it through, and then how she’d declined the position, even though she badly needed the work.
Then returning home this evening to find her teaching my daughter how to bake on her very first day on the job.
The speed of my orgasm shocked me. Thick ropes of semen spurted from the head of my cock, washed away by the punishing spray. I braced a hand on the tiled wall and rode out the exquisite pleasure.
Jesus Christ.
Did I really just jack off while thinking of the nanny? Talk about a fucking cliché.
I flicked off the shower and reached for a towel, wrapping it around my waist to hide my half-mast dick. It had meant nothing. I was a twenty-eight-year-old man who’d had a tough week. My actions were perfectly understandable. Show me a guy who insisted he didn’t masturbate as a way of relieving tension, and I’d show you a fucking liar.
I changed into a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and went downstairs. In the time I’d been gone, Harlow had cleaned every speck of flour from the kitchen, and the aroma of cakes and cookies greeted me as I entered the living area. The memory of what I’d done in the shower while thinking of her a few minutes ago brought a tinge of red to my cheeks.
“Smells amazing.” I peeked inside the oven to hide my embarrassment. “Looks amazing, too.”
Harlow smiled. “I made parmesan chicken tenders with mixed peppers for dinner,” she said. “Hope that’s okay.”
“Can I have cookies and cupcakes, Daddy?”
“You can’t have either if you don’t eat every bit of your dinner,” I replied, earning a deep scowl and a pout for my troubles.
Enraptured: A Billionaire Romance (The ROGUES Series Book 2) Page 4