Chapter 26 Jess #2
My face heats up. Fabulous. Blushing during a crisis meeting. Very professional.
“What about a hotel?” I suggest, voice only slightly strangled. “Somewhere off the grid. Harder to track.”
Luis shakes his head. “Marco already vetoed it. Doesn’t want to scare Ben more than necessary. Thinks moving her to an unfamiliar location during an anxiety spike will make things worse.”
“And if the primary suite isn’t enough?” I press.
Filepe’s expression goes flat. “Then we escalate. But that’s Marco’s call, not ours.”
Fair.
“Drapes are tested,” Luis continues. “White noise machine is queued. Hallway’s been swept.”
The front door opens. Marco’s voice carries down the hall. “Where is she?”
“Kitchen,” Rosa calls back.
I hear his footsteps. Fast. Purposeful. The sound of a man who’s been running worst-case scenarios for the last twenty minutes.
Then he’s in the doorway of the office. Hair slightly messed up. Tie loosened. Jaw tight. That controlled intensity radiating off him that would be extremely hot if I wasn’t currently freaking out.
“Footage?” he asks Filepe.
“Parent who filmed has been ID’d through the school’s nurse-visit log. Elena’s drafting takedown language now, in case the parent posts anything. School admin is cooperating with all requests.”
Marco nods once. Then his eyes find mine. “You did good getting her out.”
My throat goes tight. “She’s still pretty shaken.”
“I know.” He moves past me toward the kitchen. I follow because apparently I’m just part of the entourage now. “I wouldn’t have pulled her early if I didn’t think it was necessary.”
Ben’s still on the counter. Still playing mechanically with the apple slices. But when she sees Marco, something in her face shifts. “Daddy. You’re okay!”
“Hey, piccola.” He lifts her and holds her close. “You’re safe now. I promise.”
She buries her face in his shoulder. Frederick gets squished between them. “I was so worried something bad was going to happen to you.”
Shit. That’s probably my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything about bad people wanting to ‘hurt’ daddy.
Shit shit shit.
Still, I can’t shoulder all the blame, as he’s the one who pulled Ben early. With good reason I suppose, given the four paparazzi vehicles circling outside.
My phone buzzes. Filepe in the group chat.
Fifth vehicle spotted. Recommend shelter-in-place protocol activation within thirty minutes.
Marco’s already read it. I can see his jaw tighten.
“Let’s give it twenty,” he says quietly, still holding Ben. “See if they disperse first.”
“What do they want?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “My people are still looking into it.”
Rosa brings more cocoa. Luis does another perimeter check. Filepe monitors the camera feeds.
And I stand in Marco’s kitchen watching the red dots multiply on the security screen, wondering how exactly I went from unemployed influencer to nanny to whatever the hell this is.
My phone buzzes again.
Seventh vehicle. Activating protocol in fifteen.
Marco sees it too. “Okay. Primary suite. Now.”
And just like that, the decision is made.
When you realize you’re about to be trapped in your boss’s bedroom.
With your boss himself and his daughter.
During a crisis.
And you have to act normal about it.
Rosa starts packing a snack bag. Luis heads upstairs to do the final sweep. Filepe monitors the growing crowd outside.
And I stand there trying to remember how to breathe.
Trying to remember that this is about Ben’s safety, not about the fact that I’m about to spend an indeterminate amount of time in Marco Fiore’s bedroom.
Trying even harder not to think about what happens if this goes on for hours.
Or overnight.
Oh God.
Don’t think about overnight.
Ben lifts her head from Marco’s shoulder. Looks at me. “Are you going to stay?”
My heart cracks. “Of course, sweetie. I’m not going anywhere.”
What I don’t say, is: Besides, I don’t think your father would let me leave. Not while half the newspapers in town are out there waiting to take my picture.
Marco’s eyes meet mine over Ben’s head. There’s something in his expression I can’t quite read. Gratitude maybe. Or concern. Or possibly the same low-grade panic I’m feeling about the shelter-in-place situation.
“Thank you,” he says quietly.
I nod.
Ben tugs on my sleeve. “Jess? You’re making the worried face.”
I force a smile. “Just thinking about what games we should play. Frederick’s going to need entertainment.”
She considers this very seriously. “He likes quiet games. Because he’s a snail.”
“Quiet games? Perfect.” I look at Marco. “Ready?”
He adjusts his hold on Ben. “Wait.”
Luis returns. “Good to go.”
We head upstairs.
The three of us.
Together.
Into the primary suite.
Where the blackout drapes are already drawn and the white noise machine is humming.
And where everything suddenly feels far too intimate and far too real.
When ‘shelter-in-place’ sounds professional until you’re actually doing it.
This is fine.
Totally fine.
I’m a professional.
The door closes behind us with a soft click.
Leaving only Ben.
Me.
And Marco.