Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
DEAN
Imade it to Friday.
Considering how drastically my life has changed over the last two weeks, I’d call that a win.
Settling into another new routine hasn’t been nearly as difficult as I expected. Aubrey has been incredible with Liana.
She’s completely unfazed by the chaos that seems to follow a two-month-old around.
And surprisingly, she’s easy to live with.
She somehow knows when to give me space and when to step in without ever making me feel like she’s taking over. She cleans up after herself, laughs more than anyone who’s been in this apartment in years, and has a way of making the place feel lighter.
Sometimes, I catch myself looking at her and have to remind myself she’s the same Aubrey who used to live next door to me.
Somewhere over the last seven years, Noah’s little sister disappeared.
In her place is a woman I’m still trying to figure out.
Saturday morning sunlight pours through the floor-to-ceiling windows as I zip up my sweatshirt and glance outside.
Seventy-two degrees. Not bad for a random October day.
Liana squirms on my bed, already awake for the day after finishing her bottle. She lets out a tiny squeal that earns a smile from me.
“I think we both need some fresh air.”
I grab the stroller from the front closet and begin unfolding it in the foyer.
Aubrey walks into the kitchen a minute later wearing black leggings and an oversize cream-colored sweatshirt, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail.
“Morning.” She smiles softly.
“Morning.”
She pours herself a cup of coffee before noticing the stroller. “Going somewhere?”
“I thought I’d take Liana for a walk through Central Park.”
She nods. “I think she’d like that.”
“I figured we’d enjoy the weather while we still can.”
She smiles into her mug. “I’ve always wanted to see Central Park in the fall.”
“You should come.” The words are out of my mouth before I’ve had a chance to think them through.
She blinks. “With you?”
I immediately wonder why I said it. This is supposed to be my time with Liana. Right?
“Only if you want to,” I add, trying to sound casual. “You don’t have to.”
Aubrey studies me for a second. “I’d like that.”
An unexpected feeling of relief settles in my chest. “Good.”
I don’t know if it’s just that I’d like any company right now or if it’s Aubrey’s in particular that I enjoy.
The sidewalks are busier than I expected, filled with runners, families, tourists, and dogs pulling impatient owners in every direction.
Golden leaves drift from the trees overhead, collecting along the winding paths that cut through the park.
Liana sleeps peacefully in the stroller, completely unaware of the city moving around her.
“I forgot how pretty this place is,” Aubrey says quietly.
“You’ve been here before?”
“Once. My parents brought us when I was little.” She laughs. “The only thing I remember is chasing pigeons.”
“Sounds productive.”
“I was very committed.”
I laugh. “I don’t doubt it.”
She looks over at me, clearly pleased she managed to get a laugh.
Conversation with Aubrey never feels forced. One topic simply slides into another.
She tells me about Ohio State. I tell her about the details of building the company from a tiny apartment with Sawyer after graduation.
She admits she nearly failed accounting. I admit I nearly failed public speaking.
“I don’t believe that.”
“It’s true.”
“You’re the CEO of a billion-dollar company.”
“I still hate speeches.”
She grins. “So, you’re saying billionaires get nervous too?”
“Only the successful ones.”
She laughs. “I’ll remember that.”
We wander another twenty minutes before spotting an open patch of grass beneath a sprawling maple tree.
“I brought this.” Aubrey reaches into the basket beneath the stroller and pulls out a folded blanket.
“You planned ahead.”
“I’ve spent enough time around babies to know they rarely want to stay strapped into a stroller forever.”
We spread the blanket across the grass.
Liana blinks awake just as I lift her from the stroller.
“Perfect timing.”
Aubrey gently rolls her onto her stomach. “There you go, sweetheart.”
Liana immediately lifts her head, wobbling determinedly as she looks between us.
“She’s getting stronger,” Aubrey says proudly.
I lower myself onto the blanket beside them. “I can actually tell.”
“Told you that tummy time mattered.”
“You were right.”
She smiles without rubbing it in.
For several minutes, neither of us says much. The breeze carries the scent of fallen leaves through the park. Children laugh somewhere in the distance.
I glance back down at my daughter lying between us.
One week ago, I couldn’t imagine my life ever feeling normal again.
Now, stretched out on a blanket in Central Park with Liana happily kicking her feet and Aubrey smiling beside her, normal doesn’t seem so impossible anymore.
By the time we pack up the blanket and settle Liana back into the stroller, the park has grown noticeably busier.
Families weave around us while cyclists ring their bells as they pass. A golden retriever trots by with a tennis ball hanging from its mouth.
“I could stay out here all day,” Aubrey says, taking one last look around before falling into step beside me.
I glance toward the sky. “Let’s not push our luck.”
She follows my gaze. “What? It was sunny ten minutes ago.”
“It was.”
Dark gray clouds have rolled over Manhattan with surprising speed, swallowing the patches of blue that were hanging overhead all morning.
“I think we’re about to—” A cold drop lands squarely on the bridge of my nose.
Aubrey laughs. “You’re kidding.”
Within seconds, the gentle sprinkle turns into a steady rain.
“Oh no,” Aubrey says, hurrying to the stroller.
I don’t hesitate. “Blanket.”
She immediately reaches into the basket beneath the stroller and hands me the one we sat on.
Together, we stretch it over the stroller before I pull the weather shield forward, covering as much of the opening as possible.
I peek inside. Liana blinks up at us, completely oblivious to the sudden chaos.
“I think she’s dry.”
“So, are we running?” Aubrey asks, already laughing.
“We’re running.”
I grip the stroller handle and take off.
The rain comes down harder, soaking through my sweatshirt within seconds.
Beside me, Aubrey breaks into a run, one hand holding the blanket securely over the stroller while the other keeps her ponytail from whipping into her face.
“I can’t believe this!” she shouts over the rain.
“You wanted fall in New York!”
“I was picturing colorful leaves!”
“You got the full experience!”
She laughs so hard that she has to catch her breath.
Water splashes beneath our shoes as we hurry down the sidewalk, weaving around people scrambling for awnings and umbrellas.
“I think”—Aubrey pants between laughs— “I liked it better when we were lying in the grass.”
“I’ll make a note of that.”
By the time my building comes into view, we’re both completely drenched.
My clothes cling to my skin.
Aubrey’s sweatshirt is soaked through, dark strands of hair escaping her ponytail and sticking to her cheeks.
The doorman rushes toward us the moment he sees us. “I’ll get the door, Mr. Ledger!”
“Thanks.”
We wheel the stroller inside as quickly as we can.
The lobby feels wonderfully warm compared to the chilly rain outside.
Aubrey immediately kneels beside the stroller and lifts the blanket. “Dry as a bone,” she says with a relieved smile.
I lean over her shoulder, catching Liana yawn. I let out a quiet laugh. “I think she handled that better than we did.”
Aubrey brushes a damp strand of hair behind her ear and looks up at me, rainwater still dripping from the tip of her nose. “I don’t know …” she says with a grin. “That was kind of fun.”
I catch myself smiling back before I can stop it.
Yeah, it was.
The elevator doors slide shut behind us. Rainwater pools beneath our shoes as we stand in silence, both breathing a little harder from the run back.
I glance down at Liana, who is still asleep.
“Unbelievable,” I mutter.
Aubrey smiles. “She slept through all of that.”
“I don’t know how.”
The elevator dings.
As the doors open into the penthouse foyer, Aubrey immediately laughs. “I’m freezing.”
Without thinking, she peels her soaked sweatshirt over her head.
She’s left standing in a fitted white tank top that clings to her from the rain, the damp fabric outlining her silhouette far more than either of us expected.
My feet stop moving. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice tells me to look away.
Instead … I don’t.
For one suspended second, I simply stare. I see her nipples as they poke through the material. Her breasts are outlined perfectly.
I can’t look away. My body, which was cold a second ago, now feels like it’s burning up.
Aubrey follows my gaze. She glances down at herself, immediately realizing what I can see.
Her smile falters, and color rushes into her cheeks. “Oh.” She instinctively folds her arms across her chest. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even …”
My throat suddenly feels impossibly dry.
I force my eyes upward until they meet hers. “No.” I clear my throat. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.” The words come out rougher than I intended.
An awkward silence settles between us. One neither of us seems to know how to break.
“I should”—Aubrey gestures toward the hallway leading to her bedroom— “go change.”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard. “Probably a good idea.”
She gives me one quick, embarrassed smile before disappearing down the hallway.
I remain rooted to the foyer.
Liana lets out a sleepy sigh in the stroller, pulling me from my thoughts.
I close my eyes for a brief moment.
Get a grip, Ledger. She’s your employee and also Noah’s little sister. And she’s living under your roof because she trusted you enough to take this job.
The last thing she should ever have to worry about is whether you’re looking at her the way you just did.
I exhale slowly, then head toward Liana’s nursery, determined to put as much distance as possible between myself and the thoughts currently waging war inside my head.