4. Penny #2
Travis offered a weary but patient smile as he removed his cufflinks and slid them into his pockets. “It sounds like you had a big day.”
“And maybe tomorrow, we’ll go to the museum!” She was beside herself, completely overjoyed, and I couldn’t help but smile as I ruffled her springy curls in passing.
Travis patted the top of her head, loosening his silk tie. The green hue made his eyes pop, and I wondered if he knew it did. “I have an idea. Why don’t you go upstairs and wash up before dinner? I thought maybe tonight, we could order pizza.”
Without missing a beat, Sofia looked up at me, eyes round. “This is the best day of my whole life.” I was barely able to stifle my laughter until she was out of the room.
“She is too much,” I whispered when we were alone, giggling and shaking my head.
Travis, meanwhile, folded his muscular arms and cocked his head to the side. The eyes I admired not half a minute ago narrowed threateningly. “I’m thinking you might not have understood a few things when we went over the basic ground rules.”
I felt like he caught me with my pants down. I was totally stunned into place and maybe distracted by his arms a little. “Come again?” I asked in a soft voice.
“Yes, Sofia needs to be out in the world. She can’t be cooped up in the house all the time.
But buying lunch at some random taco truck?
Promising activities without clearing it with me first?
You’re here to take care of her when I can’t,” he reminded me.
“But that doesn’t mean you have free rein to gallivant all over Beverly Hills with her. ”
It wasn’t often that I felt the twinge of outrage bubbling in my core. I knew my actions came from a good place. I knew Sofia was safe with me. “Hey, look at it this way,” I joked. “She wanted me to take her to Disneyland. I figured the museum was a decent compromise.”
“There you go with that word again. Are you listening to what I’m saying?
” he demanded. How could somebody so handsome look so ugly when he scowled the way he did?
“I know I can’t vet every activity you decide to do, but I would like to have a say in at least some of it.
As for what my daughter eats, I would like a say in that, as well. ”
I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. A man whose company had been valued in the hundreds of millions of dollars was throwing a temper tantrum because he couldn’t micromanage every little thing we did during the day.
Reframe it.
It was a habit, almost like a reflex at this point in my life.
What was really happening? This wasn’t about the park or the museum or a taco truck.
It was about control. He didn’t appreciate feeling like he didn’t have any.
I was starting to wonder if the other girls didn’t take Sofia on excursions because he didn’t want them to.
“There must be a way we can both get what we want,” I spoke slowly, clearly, careful not to ruffle his feathers more than they already were.
If this were a barnyard, he would be the rooster strutting around, making sure everybody could hear his dissatisfaction.
A rooster with killer biceps and muscles carved from rock.
“What can I do next time to ensure you aren’t upset? Because that’s the last thing I want.”
His eyelids fluttered, and his mouth opened, then snapped shut like he was expecting a fight and couldn’t understand why he didn’t get one. “I’m not sure. I haven’t thought about it yet.”
“We can talk about it now,” I suggested.
Because, at the end of the day, what he wanted more than anything was to be heard.
That was the same with anyone, no matter how old they were, what they did for a living, or how many people depended on them for a paycheck.
“Ideally, would you want me to call to check in with you every time there is a possible change in plans?”
He rolled his eyes, and I already knew the answer before I asked the question, but I wanted him to see how pointless that would be. “That almost defeats the purpose of having a nanny, doesn’t it?” he asked.
“I see what you mean.” I slid a pair of baking sheets into a cabinet and gently closed the door. “But there must be something I can do to make you more comfortable.”
“What was with the baking sheets, anyway?” he asked.
“Oh, we baked cookies earlier.” I gestured toward a jar on the counter and lifted the lid to reveal the chocolate chip goodness inside.
“There was an arts and crafts fair in the park, and I fell in love with it. So did Sofia. She begged me to buy it. It wasn’t that much, so I figured it couldn’t hurt anything. ”
He tipped his head to the side, studying the brightly painted jar with its snowflakes and smiling snowmen. “It’s June, and you bought a Christmas cookie jar? It looks ridiculous with everything else.”
Ridiculous was taking it a little too far, but again, I absorbed his negativity with a smile. “It made Sofia happy, and it’s cute. It’s not a Christmas jar, either,” I pointed out. “There’s no Santa Claus on it.”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “Can you please clear with me before you make interior decorating decisions?”
The last time I checked, it was just a cookie jar. I hardly thought it qualified as an interior decorating decision. “Of course. I’ll clear that with you from now on too.”
“Dammit! That’s not… just don’t buy anything at all. All right? She sees something she likes? Guess what? She’ll see something else she likes five minutes later. And as for playing baker in my kitchen,” he continued. “She gets enough sugar as it is.”
“I understand the finer points of childhood nutrition,” I murmured. “And if it makes you feel any better, I used bananas in the cookies to cut back on the sugar. There’s hardly any in it at all. You should try one,” I offered, pulling a cookie from the top of the pile and holding it out.
He looked at it like it was poison. “You’re not getting the point.”
I understood the point clearly. That was what he didn’t understand.
Taking a bite of the cookie, I chewed slowly while he watched.
“I don’t think this is getting us anywhere,” I mused.
“It might be better if we take a break, then come back when you have a better idea of what it is you need from me. I’m only here to do my best for Sofia.
I’m sure you know what that is, being her father. ”
He waved his hands, scoffing. “Fine. I wanna grab a quick shower before dinner, anyway. I’ll order the pizza. Go see what’s taking Sofia so long.”
I held my tongue rather than reminding him I could’ve been doing that if it hadn’t been for him throwing a tantrum over lunchtime tacos and cookie jars.
After his childish performance, hanging out with a four-year-old would be a refreshing change.
Some people were determined to be negative no matter how many blessings their lives were full of.
“Sofia, sweetie?” I called out on my way down the upstairs hall. “You ready for dinner?”
I caught her kneeling in front of the play castle that took up one corner of her spacious bedroom. Her dolls were lined up against the front wall, waiting for their hair to be brushed while she attacked the frizzy curls of the doll in her lap. “Hey, there. How come you’re not washed up?” I asked.
“I got busy. I don’t need to wash. I already did when we got home,” she reminded me.
“Your dad wants you to, and I think it would be a good idea.”
“I. Don’t. Need. To.” She was at a simmer and ready to boil. It had been a long, busy day, and she was feeling cranky, much like her father.
“What can I do to convince you to do this?” I asked, approaching slowly.
“Nothing. Dolly’s hair… I have to do Dolly’s hair.” She wasn’t interested in listening, that much was clear. Lifting her head, she added, “You can’t make me.”
“Where is this coming from?” I asked.
Lifting a shoulder, she went back to her work. “I’m busy.”
Was she playing grown-ups now? Was that the game? Acting like her very busy father? Or was she simply worn out and overstimulated? I got the feeling it was the latter, especially considering the way her voice quivered a little.
“Why don’t we do this?” Sinking to my knees, I gently removed the doll from her hands and put it aside.
I then took her hands and waited for her to meet my gaze.
“Why don’t you take a little time, think about it, and then let me know what it is you need from me.
It can be hard coming up with a way to say what we’re feeling inside. Right?”
“Yeah.” She sniffled.
“I’m here to listen whenever you feel comfortable talking, but I can only listen if you use your big-girl words.
” I tucked a curl behind her ear, patting her cheek.
“You’ve had a pretty busy day. You’ll probably feel better once we have dinner.
Maybe we’ll watch a movie before bedtime tonight. One of the ones Mr. Lex brought over?”
Her eyes lit up, and she nodded. “Yeah! Can we watch it in my room?”
“Sure.” Because something told me Travis might not be the type who wanted to cuddle together while watching a movie.
It didn’t seem like his thing. Otherwise, I might’ve suggested he join us.
Sofia would’ve loved it, though, and it would’ve been nice to see him take the stick out of his tight butt and loosen up a little.
His idea of loosening up was probably ordering pizza. Sure, it made her happy, but it was only a pat on the head. Or, like a Band-Aid, it wouldn’t really solve anything.
What was I thinking? None of this was any of my business. Sofia was overall a happy, healthy kid. I hadn’t seen anything that would make me think otherwise.
“Let’s wash up real quick,” I suggested. “So we can be ready for dinner.”
She scrambled, jumping up and heading straight for her bathroom. I sat back on my heels with a weary sigh. I loved the kid. She was terrific, but she was just about as exhausting as her father.
It was like the man heard me thinking about him.
I turned, gasping in surprise, when he cleared his throat rather loudly in the doorway.
He hadn’t showered yet unless he changed right back into his work clothes afterward.
“Sorry to startle you,” he said. “But I didn’t want to interrupt that beautiful moment. ”
Sarcastic prick. “It’s all right,” I told him. His brows drew together when I smiled, then stood. “She got a little distracted, but we’re back on track.”
“That was a nice trick you pulled.”
“I’m sorry?” I asked. The man spoke in riddles.
“Listen.” All at once, he narrowed his eyes, and the effect sent a chill down my spine. “I don’t appreciate being talked to like I’m a toddler.”
“I don’t understand?—”
“ Why don’t you take some time and let me know how you’re feeling? ” He rolled his eyes and scoffed. His imitation of me was laughable, but this wasn’t the time. “Is that your way of placating both of us?”
Whoops. So I used a little bit of child psychology on him. It wasn’t like I wanted to make a fool out of him or anything. “Mr. Knight, please?—”
He was determined not to let me get an entire sentence out. “I talk to you like you’re an adult. You talk to me like I’m an adult. Got it? Or do I need to take time to express myself more clearly?”
This wasn’t a matter of him being grumpy or feeling like he didn’t have control. He was bound and determined to be mean.
I wasn’t a child.
I knew how the world worked. But that didn’t keep my heart from aching just a little when he turned away without another word and walked down the hall.