Chapter Seven
W hy the fuck did I pick a pencil skirt and blouse to wear!? I didn’t even wear this shit when I worked in a daycare! And it’s not like I need to impress him; I already have the job.
I tug at the hem of the tight skirt anxiously as I wait for him to answer the door, and when he does, I practically choke on my tongue.
He’s in a pair of red and black pajama pants and only pajama pants.
His carved torso captures and holds my attention.
Forget six pack, this man has an eight pack with the carved V at his hips and a trail of dark hair that starts from his belly button and disappears beneath the low band of his pants.
A silver bar glints in his left nipple, and a smattering of hair is scattered across his chest.
“Eyes up here,” His raspy voice jolts me, and my eyes snap up to his behind his thick rimmed glasses.
“Have you always worn glasses?” I ask the first thing that pops into my head, trying and failing not to notice how hot he looks all trussed up, as if only just rolling out of bed. I should have known the man can’t look bad, not even when he’s barely awake.
“Sure, because that’s what you noticed,” There’s a teasing edge to his tone, a lightness I hadn’t expected.
“Sorry,” I bite, fighting the urge to flee, “I just didn’t expect to find you half dressed. A little unprofessional, don’t you think?”
One stern brow cocks up, any lightness that was on his face moments ago now fleeting. “My apologies, Miss Reynolds, had a rough night and woke up late. Won’t happen again.”
I flinch at the surname. Despite using my mother’s maiden name for the past several months, it still sounds wrong to be referred to like that, knowing my whole family is a couple hundred miles away with no idea where I am. The person I was before no longer exists.
“Is Lily sick?” I ask, pushing down on the wave.
“Unsettled,” He sighs and steps back, “Come in.”
I follow him into the house, watching the muscles in his back ripple and flex with every single step.
He stops in the living room where Lily is in a small baby seat in front of the fire while the TV plays in front of her.
She looks happy enough, her big eyes glued to the moving shapes on the TV.
I doubt she can see much more than the bright colors, but if she’s happy, she’s happy.
“Give me five,” He says before he pads from the room, leaving me alone with his daughter.
I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised since he hired me to care for her, but I still stand idly by, as if I’ve never been around children and don’t know what to do.
Lily makes a cooing kind of noise from her spot in front of the TV, and I gravitate toward it, the sound alone enough to chase away the remnants of my anxiety. Crouching at her side, I offer her my finger.
“Hi sweet girl,” I greet her, her tiny fist circling the finger and immediately drawing it toward her mouth, “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”
She coos, her big brown eyes wide as she kicks her legs happily.
“Are we gonna be a little team?” I continue talking, letting her get used to my voice. “We’re going to have so much fun together! Your daddy has told me all about you.”
A throat clears at the threshold, and I whip my head up, finding Dean now dressed in an all-black suit, his black shirt unbuttoned at the top. “You can have all the time you want with her as soon as you sign the contract.”
“Will you be going to work today?” I slide my hand from Lily’s surprisingly firm grip.
“Not today,” He shakes his head, “I have some work to do here, but I’ll be home.”
“Okay,” I wipe my clammy hands on my skirt, “She’ll be okay for a minute?”
“Yeah,” He replies and turns, heading through to the kitchen. He has the contract laid out on the counter, the changes highlighted in yellow and a silver pen next to it, waiting for me to use.
I quickly read over the change, finding the new clause I requested and pick up the pen, signing my name on the dotted line. Once that’s done, he straightens out the pages and slides them back into the envelope.
“I’ll have a copy sent to you.” His formal tone broaches no room for conversation, so I simply nod, and when the silence stretches to the point my neck prickles, I back up, ready to excuse myself, until he reaches for the drawer in front of him and places a set of keys on the counter.
He points to one of the two keys on the ring, “House key.”
“Right.” I nod.
“Car key.” He points to the other.
“Car key? What for?” I gasp, “I can’t drive your Porsche.”
“The Range Rover parked on the street; it’s mine, but it’s for you.”
My mouth drops open. There was nothing in the contract about a car!
“But why?”
“Do you have a car?” He probes.
“Well, no,” I shake my head, “But I can walk or get a cab.”
“I don’t want my daughter in a cab,” He grumbles, “You’ll drive the car.”
“How do you even know I can drive?” I challenge.
“I asked Savannah.”
“Dean,” I sigh, “I don’t–”
“You’ll drive the car,” He says sternly, “There’ll be appointments to attend, and I don’t expect you to stay in the house every single day. Take the car.”
My fingers curl around the keys, and I drag them toward me.
“Good,” He nods once. “Help yourself to anything, fridge is fully stocked, that cabinet there has drinks and Lily’s formula. The bottle warmer is here,” He points behind me. “Her changing station is upstairs. She’s due for a feed in twenty minutes.”
“And if I need you?” I ask.
“My office is in the basement,” He points to the door just off the main door, “It’s locked, but call my phone, and I’ll come up.”
With nothing left to say, he walks past me and into the living room, where he unbuckles his daughter and brings her up to his chest. I stand back at the door, observing the moment as his long, calloused finger runs down her soft cheek, and she coos happily, trying to get a grip on it but missing.
He chuckles lightly, “Be good, Lily Flower; we don’t want to scare her off just yet.”
Dark eyes meeting mine, I step into the room just as he gets to me, and he hands her over, “Just call if you need anything.”
There’s a moment where his hand touches mine, and the way his skin feels against mine should be criminal.
It’s the simplest of touches, no more than a whisper, but my skin prickles and my heart races.
If he feels it too, he doesn’t show it and walks off without a backward glance.
I hear the door to his basement office open and close, and then there’s nothing but the upbeat music playing from the TV.
“I guess it’s just you and me,” I say to the little girl in my arms. “Are you hungry?”
She gives me a gummy smile just as her fist gets a grip on my hair.
“Ah fu–” I cut myself off. “Fudge!”
For good measure, she gives it a tug, my scalp stinging.
“Alright,” I try to pry her fingers from my hair, “Alright, food! I get it!”
Keeping a light hold on her wrist to stop her from yanking my hair straight from the root, I walk her through to the kitchen, where I then prep her a bottle, following the instructions left on the side for me.
Dean has handwritten how to use the machine, as well as Lily’s schedule on a post-it note.
I study the neat, almost elegant scrawl, the loops and curves of his letters a juxtaposition to the way the man holds himself, and then I laugh at myself.
What am I? Some kind of analyst who can read a person from the way they write?
Ha! No. If I were, perhaps I would have figured out who it was that was haunting me.
Ignoring the dark turn of my thoughts, I continue like nothing happened. It won’t take long for me to fall into a routine with Lily, but it helps to know what he’s been doing with her up until now.
Once I prep the bottle and it’s ready, I carry her through to the living room and take a seat on the plush couch, sinking into the deep cushions so I can cradle her in my arm while the TV still plays her program in the background.
She grasps the bottle, sucking down the milk in quick succession before she slows, and her eyes turn droopy.
Burping her proves difficult since she’s so sleepy, but we get it done, and the sweet girl falls asleep fast and hard in the crook of my arm while the TV keeps playing in the background.
Carefully reaching for the remote, I switch it off, plunging the house into silence.
Beyond the walls, I can hear the distant hum of traffic and a clock ticking from somewhere inside the house, but even though I know Dean is below me, I feel alone.
I can’t hear him or feel his presence, and he doesn’t appear at all for the rest of the day.
Lily and I got through our first day with minimal disruptions.
She got a little unsettled around lunchtime, but a little dancing and allowing her to use my hair like it was a pull toy helped.
Her smile is the cutest thing I think I’ve ever seen, all gummy, and her eyes light up like they have a glow behind them.
We get through bath-time, and at seven sharp, just after I put her down in her crib for her sleep, Dean emerged from his office.
His eyes scan the living room, seeing the place exactly as he left it. I enjoy being neat and tidy; it creates a sense of organization I am severely lacking in every other aspect of my life, but this I can control.
“She went down about ten minutes ago,” I stand and raise my arms to stretch.
“How was your day?” He asks, flicking his eyes down my body before they catch on something at my stomach.
A quick look down shows my blouse has risen, showing skin, so I scramble to tug at the hem, covering myself back up.
I feel my cheeks flush, but hide it as I turn and grab my purse from the side table I’d left it on earlier.
“Lily’s been great,” I tell him, holding my purse in front of me like a shield, “Took all her bottles and napped when she should have. We did tummy time, and I took her out into the garden this afternoon.”
His dark eyes flick around my face, narrowing enough that lines appear at the sides. “How was your day?” He repeats the question.
“I enjoyed myself,” I admit, “It’s been a while since I’ve been around kids, but,” I pause and shrug, “It’s what I do, you know? It’s what I am good at.”
“No, I don’t know,” He slowly strides into the room, hands buried in the pockets of his pants. “Why did you leave it if you loved it so much?”
My spine stiffens — too much, too close. Asking too many questions.
“I’ve got to go,” I rush out, looking at my wrist. I’m not even wearing a watch, and the twitch in Dean’s lip tells me he noticed that too. “Got somewhere to be.”
“Is that right?” He quirks a brow.
“Mmhmm,” I head for the door, “I’ll just order a cab and see you tomorrow.”
Before I can get the door open, he blocks it, “A cab?”
“Yeah?”
“You have a car, Sloane. Use it.”
“Well, I don’t have a car,” I roll my shoulders.
“It is yours for the time you work for me, you can use it whenever you want. In and out of working hours. Please take it.”
“I don’t know if I —”
“You’re safer if you drive yourself.”
He’s right.
“Are you sure?” I hesitate.
Placing the key to the SUV in my palm, he uses his rough fingers to close mine around it. “I insist.”
“Okay,” I breathe.
“See you tomorrow.” He says, his hand lingering for a touch too long, but then he moves away from me and heads for the living room without a backward glance, making me wonder if I just read into the whole thing too much. I tend to overthink nowadays.
When I know he needs nothing further from me, I let myself out and climb into the car, the plush leather seat sinking as I relax into it.
This is by far the nicest car I have ever gotten into, and the thought alone is more than daunting. But I have to stop stalling, to stop lying in this fathomless pit of nothingness. I have to get my life back.
So, I adjust the seat, and I press the button to start the engine, and I tell myself this was just the first day to becoming the Sloane I used to know. I want to be that girl again. I’m so tired of being afraid.
This is my ticket back to where I belong.