Annie turned her attention to Harlow. “Can I? Please?”
The little minx.
I opened my mouth to admonish her, but I didn’t get to have my say. Harlow beat me to it.
“I agree with your dad. Dinner first. Then we’ll see, but you can only have one cookie or one cupcake. Too much sugar is bad for your teeth.”
I sent her a grateful smile. Kids loved to divide and conquer. Mom and I had worked out a system, but it had taken years of mistakes where we’d contradicted each other and Annie had taken full advantage before we figured it all out. Harlow had slipped right into her role without a ripple of turmoil.
“Ugh.” Annie folded her arms over her chest. “I knew you’d side with him.”
I picked her up and held her upside down. “Him? Him?” I said, grinning at her peals of laughter.
I caught Harlow watching us, her expression soft, a warm smile playing about her lips.
Yeah, not a good idea to think of her lips.
I cleared my throat and righted Annie. “Go wash your hands before dinner, young lady. And less of your sass.”
She playfully stuck out her tongue, then hugged me tightly and kissed my cheek. “Love you, Daddy.”
My heart filled to bursting point as she ran to the nearest bathroom to wash up, and a warm tingling sensation spread through my chest. For all the pain Sara had caused me, I’d never regret my relationship with her, because she gave me Annie.
“You’re a great dad.”
Harlow’s interjection interrupted my musings. I turned to her with a frown. “Sorry, what?”
“I said you’re a great dad. She’s lucky to have you. I’ve worked with a lot of families, and the way you are with her isn’t common.”
“Thanks,” I said gruffly, a little weirded out at how proud her compliment made me feel. I rubbed my hands together in an exaggerated fashion, eager to move the conversation into safer territory. “Let’s eat.”
7
Harlow
“Time for bed, Annie.”
“Awww, five more minutes, please, Daddy,” she begged. “It’s Saturday tomorrow. Tell him, Harlow. You’ll let me stay up, won’t you? You did last Friday night when Daddy worked late.”
Jeez. Way to throw me under the bus, kid.
Oliver arched an eyebrow. Heat flooded into my cheeks, and I nibbled my bottom lip.
“Um, that was a one-off, kiddo. Now do as your dad says. Scoot.”
She pouted, muttered, “You’re supposed to be on my side,” and flounced off, her arms defensively crossed over her chest.
Oliver tossed his phone on the table and rose to his feet. I expected him to give me a lecture for overstepping the mark. It wasn’t my place to flout the rules he’d laid down for his daughter, but we’d snuggled in front of the TV to watch Frozen, and rather than cut it short, I’d allowed her to stay up until the movie ended. I hadn’t asked her to keep it from her father—I’d never do that—but after a week passed by without her mentioning it, I assumed she’d forgotten.
I should have known better. Kids had memories like elephants, especially when the event in question involved broken rules.
But instead of calling me out, he simply said, “There’s wine in the fridge if you’d like a glass,” then as I stood there with my mouth agape, he jogged upstairs to join Annie.
The more I saw of this guy, the more I liked him. He never acted the way I expected him to, which kept me on my toes for sure.
I took him up on his offer and helped myself to a glass of wine. My work week was effectively over. I had the entire weekend to myself—and I had no idea how to fill the time. I’d always spent my weekends with Carter before the cheating asshole wrecked our year-long relationship. Katie was working at the hospital, otherwise I’d ask her if she wanted to meet up. Maybe I’d go to the gym, do a little shopping. Read a book, perhaps.
Ugh. It all sounded so dull and boring. I tried to recall how I’d spent my weekends before Carter, then realized there’d simply been another Carter making my decisions for me.
Christ, I’m so lame.
With the entire night stretching ahead of me, and nothing to do, I decided I’d take a bath. A long soak with some bubbles and salts would give me time to reflect. I had to work out who I was without a man in my life, and I might as well start now.
I reached the top of the stairs, but as I passed Annie’s room, I paused. I peeked around the door. Oliver was sitting on the edge of Annie’s bed, his arm looped over her shoulder while he read to her. But he wasn’t just reciting the words on the page. No, he’d gone into full-on dramatic mode, acting out all the voices while Annie giggled and urged him on.
He really was father of the goddamn year. I had yet to hear him shout or yell at her or tell her he didn’t have time or was too busy.
If only all dads were like that.
If only my father had been like that when I’d been growing up.
Would I still have this urge to always seek validation if my dad had made me feel like the most important person in his life? I shrugged it off. No point trying to find answers when they didn’t exist. Dad was Dad, and Mom was Mom. Wishing we had a closer, more natural relationship wouldn’t help anything. They were who they were, which was good people who happened to be extremely reserved and frugal with displays of affection.
How easy it would be to fall for a guy like Oliver. My ovaries ached just watching him with Annie. I shook my head in annoyance. Even if I was on the market for a guy—which I most certainly was not—he’d hardly stumble across the hall to fuck the nanny when he could have his pick of women. A man like that… filthy rich, uber-successful, drop-dead gorgeous. There wasn’t a woman on the planet who’d walk away if he set his sights on them.
Once again, my mind turned to Annie’s mother and what Liv had said before she’d left on her cruise. Her visible hatred for Annie’s mother—Oliver’s wife?—had my curiosity rocketing off the charts. Whatever had happened, I couldn’t see it being his fault. Then again, what did I know?
But damn, I’d love to know the skinny.
“Harlow, is everything okay?”
I jerked my head up to find Oliver standing in front of me. I’d been so lost in my own thoughts I hadn’t realized he’d finished with Annie’s bedtime routine.
“Sorry, I was on my way to my room when I heard you reading to Annie. I hope you don’t think I’m prying, but I love watching you with her.”
“Oh.” He ducked his head, apparently embarrassed by my lavish praise. “Well, don’t let me keep you.”
“Harlow?” Annie called out. “Will you tuck me in?”
“Annie, Harlow’s finished with work now.”
I touched his arm. “It’s fine. Really.” I smiled, then withdrew my hand in case he thought I was coming on to him. Ever since I’d moved in, I’d been careful to avoid any physical contact, accidental or otherwise.
“Thank you,” he said. “She likes you enormously.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
He nodded. “Well, I’ll see you in the morning.”
I watched as he went downstairs, then slipped into Annie’s room. I waggled my finger at her. “You’re stalling, missy.”
She put her hand over her mouth and giggled. “Busted.”
I knelt beside her bed and tucked the covers underneath her mattress, then smoothed my hand over the comforter. “How’s that?”
“It’s good. Will you read me a story?”
I tipped my head to the side. “Another one?”
“Please,” she begged, all wide-eyed and beseeching. A twinge tightened my chest. Kids and puppies. Both knew how to turn on that big-eyed stare that meant they’d get their own way.
“A quick one, then you go right to sleep. Deal?”
She grinned. “Yes.”
I picked up a book and perched on her bed, then opened to the first page.
“Harlow?” she asked before I’d read a single word.
“Yes, sweet pea?”<
br />
“Will you be my mommy?”
I froze. Oh, hell. How do I respond to that without crushing her? I wasn’t prepared for this line of questioning, especially when I didn’t know the background.
“I’ll be your friend,” I settled on. “But, sweet pea, you already have a mommy.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and her mouth turned down. “But she’s not here, is she?”
God. This poor kid. With little experience on how to handle the situation, given all my other families had two parents in situ, I scrabbled around for the right thing to say.
“But if she came home, how would she feel if she found you’d replaced her with someone else?” I hugged her tightly.
She hitched a shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know what it’s like to have a mom, anyway.”
My chest ached for her. I might not have worked here long, but Annie was such a terrific kid, bright, smart, funny, she’d wormed her way into my heart.
“Don’t give up hope of seeing your mom again, Annie. Any day she could w—”
“Harlow!”
My head snapped up to find Oliver standing in the doorway, fury written all over his face. I swallowed. Dammit. I should have diverted Annie’s attention, or made a joke, or tickled her. It wasn’t my place to discuss her mom with her. That was Oliver’s job.
“Yes,” I said, my voice small and faint.
“A word, please. Annie, go to sleep.”
“But Harlow’s reading me a story,” Annie whined.
“You’ve had a story,” Oliver said, his voice softening as he spoke to his daughter. “Now be a good girl and I might take you to Bubby’s for breakfast tomorrow.”
Annie’s face lit up. “Awesome,” she exclaimed, then immediately snuggled under the covers, completely unaware of the political situation exploding right in front of her.
I tucked her in, kissed her temple, and by the time I’d straightened, Oliver had disappeared.
With dread circling my gut, I trudged into the hallway where I found him hanging around a few feet from Annie’s room. As soon as he saw me, he glowered, then pointed his chin toward the stairs and jogged down. I followed, feeling like I’d returned to my school days and the principal had summoned me to his office for a talking to.
He marched into his office, stood back for me to enter, then virtually slammed the door. I jumped. During my short tenure with this family, I’d never seen Oliver angry. He exuded calm no matter what the situation was. But I’d definitely pressed on a very sore point with my inappropriate conversation with Annie.
“Look,” I began.
“No, you look.” He planted his hands on his hips, his navy eyes burning with rage. “I will only say this once. If I have to repeat this statement at any time in the future, I will terminate your employment immediately. Don’t you ever speak to my daughter about her mother again. Ever. You overstepped the line, so I’m redrawing it for you in thick, black ink. Do I make myself clear?”
I wanted to put up a defense, to explain that Annie broached the subject by asking me to be her mother, and while I could have handled it better, I hadn’t intended to cause offense. Instead, I nodded glumly.
“Crystal,” I muttered.
If I’d been told not to speak of the mother, I’d have known where I stood.
“Good.” He raked a hand through his hair, his chest heaving as if he’d run a mile flat out. He turned his back, summarily dismissing me.
“Oliver,” I said tentatively, not happy about leaving things this way. “I’m very sorry.”
He grunted but remained staring out the window into the blackness beyond, his spine erect, his shoulders stiff.
“If you want me to leave, I will. First thing tomorrow.”
I prayed he wouldn’t accept my offer. I needed this job. Badly. Standing on my own two feet and paying my way in the world was the only control I had, and I’d defend it fiercely.
“Goodnight, Harlow,” he said firmly, a bite to his tone.
Even though he wasn’t facing me, I nodded, acknowledging his approval to remain in my post, along with his cold dismissal and clear censure in relation to my conversation with Annie.
“Goodnight.”
I opened the door and quietly left. I went straight to my room, half hoping, half dreading he’d come after me to apologize.
He didn’t.
I’d thought Oliver was different, but he was just like all the rest. Well, from now on, I’d do my job to the very best of my ability, keep my distance from my employer, and never mention Annie’s mother again.
I changed for bed and climbed under the covers, wishing I could turn the clock back on the last thirty minutes. One unwitting mistake from me and a few harsh words from Oliver, and the easy routine we’d fallen into had been annihilated.
8
Oliver
I rose the next morning with a heaviness sitting on my chest. I recognized the sensation—remorse for the events of last night. I’d overreacted, my personal issues with Sara’s disappearance rearing their ugly head when I heard Annie discussing them with Harlow rather than me. I’d only heard the tail end of their conversation, but that had been enough to make me react the way I had.
Harlow shouldn’t have made a promise she had zero chance of keeping, albeit I’d stopped her before she could complete the sentence, and I didn’t think Annie was any the wiser. But to threaten Harlow with the loss of her job was a step too far.
Harlow was a sweet, caring woman. She had an air about her, an aura of warmth, yet as soon as I’d uttered those cruel words last night, I’d felt her shut down, close me out, and that was all on me.
It was also on me to fix it.
Annie never asked me about her mother, and I took full responsibility for that because I didn’t encourage the conversation. Beneath the surface, though, she must have had so many questions running around her mind, and she’d chosen Harlow to broach them with.
Which meant she’d rejected me.
That hurt. Sliced through me as sharp as a scalpel. And I was to blame.
I would apologize to Harlow for my over-the-top behavior, and then I’d carefully raise the subject of her mother with Annie and see if I could get her to open up.
Trudging into my bathroom, I frowned at myself in the mirror. Beneath my eyes, dark circles told the story of the sleepless night I’d had. I heaved a sigh.
You’re an idiot.
I had to stop reacting with barely contained anger every time the subject of Sara came up. Soon, I’d have to deal with the deep wound she’d caused by walking out that, like a martyr, I’d refused to allow to heal.
But not today. No, today I had a groveling apology to make to a woman who hadn’t deserved my tirade.
I showered, dressed, and padded down the hallway. Poking my head around Annie’s door, I smiled at the sight of my daughter sitting in the center of her room, legs curled behind her, playing with her toys.
“Morning, baby girl.”
I wouldn’t get away with that moniker for much longer, but for now, the term of endearment brought a huge smile to my daughter’s face.
“Daddy!” She leaped to her feet and hugged me. “Are we still going to Bubby’s this morning?”
Kids. In my experience they never forgot a promise, hence my response to Harlow virtually making out Annie’s mother could walk through the door any minute.
I still didn’t know what I’d do if that day ever arrived.
Put my hands around her throat and throttle her.
Hug the living daylights out of her.
React with an icy coldness that’d give her frostbite.
I kissed the top of Annie’s head. “We are. Give me an hour, okay?”
She grinned. “Okay.”
Such a good kid. Thanks, Mom.
Leaving my daughter happily playing, I carried on down the hallway, drawing to a halt outside Harlow’s room. I cleared my throat, and, with a deep breath, I tapped on her door.
“Harl
ow, do you have a minute?”
Silence.
I knocked again, a little louder in case she was in the bathroom. Or maybe she was still asleep.
When a third attempt remained unanswered, I jogged downstairs in case she’d already risen. The living area was empty.
She could have either decided to ignore me, or she’d already gone out, pushed into walking the streets on her day off because I’d made her feel unwelcome.
Way to go, dickhead.
I made some coffee and sat at the dining table to read the newspaper, but I couldn’t concentrate on world events, or the stock market. The way Harlow’s face crumpled when I’d chastised her kept replaying inside my mind, like a movie reel on a continuous loop. Beneath her submissive employee facade, I knew a lion roared beneath. But I also knew she needed this job, our original meeting giving me information a normal employer wouldn’t have. I’d bet that she’d been tempted to give it back to me as good as I’d given to her, but had held back out of necessity.
“Daddy, I’m ready.”
Annie skipped into the kitchen wearing a Scottish kilt in red and green, pink tights, a white frilly blouse, and black patent leather shoes. I chuckled at my daughter’s expression of style.
I arched a brow. “Where did you get that outfit?”
She grinned proudly. “Nanan bought it for me before she left.” Her face briefly fell. “I miss Nanan.” Then brightened. “But if Nanan hadn’t gone away, I wouldn’t have Harlow.” She glanced around the room, the beginnings of a frown pulling her eyebrows together. “Where is Harlow?”
I cleared my throat and folded the newspaper to buy myself a few seconds. “Um, I think she’s gone out.”
Annie pouted. “Oh. I wanted to hug her good morning.”
I stood and ruffled her hair, which earned me a furious scowl.
“Daddy!” she castigated, smoothing her dark tresses.
“Come on,” I said, steering the conversation away from Harlow to benefit myself. Every time her name was mentioned, a twinge of guilt pinched at my insides. “I’m starved.”
Enraptured: A Billionaire Romance (The ROGUES Series Book 2) Page 5