Chapter Thirty-One
Kiyah
I shifted in my seat, trying to get comfortable with a clingy toddler lying on my chest. I was hot and irritated from the lack of sleep due to our hectic schedule and constant jet lag.
It’d been two weeks since I accepted the nanny position, and I’d been living out of my suitcase ever since. We’d only been in Austin for two nights—the night I moved in and a brief pitstop last night after flying in from Houston before we had to jump on a late charter flight to Chicago.
I officially have a countdown calendar to the election. Once everything is over, I’m going on a two-week relaxing island getaway.
Hectic work schedule aside, I truly loved being Pete’s nanny.
He was such a happy, expressive child, and I hadn’t noticed any of the behavioral issues that Todd had mentioned.
When our presence wasn’t required, Pete and I hung out in our hotel room and participated in age-appropriate play.
And when we became too restless, we would round up the team of security guards and make a break for the nearest park or local attraction.
I’d yet to plan a “field trip” due to our jam-packed schedule, but Todd promised we would have downtime during our three-night stay in Chicago.
I felt myself finally drifting off to sleep when I heard the faint ring of my cell phone.
Lazily, without opening my eyes, I reached for my phone, which should’ve been resting in the cupholder.
I cracked an eye open and was dumbfounded when I didn’t find it, and I thought I was seeing things when Todd answered my phone and spoke in hushed tones.
“What are you doing?” I mumbled, sitting up in my seat. He placed his hand over the speaker and addressed me.
“I’m sorry, Kiyah. I didn’t want to wake you, and since it’s so early in the morning, I thought it might be an emergency.”
“Please give me my phone.” He frowned briefly before handing me my phone. “Don’t answer my phone again,” I snapped unintentionally.
Because why are you getting so comfortable?
“Hello?” I whispered, suddenly remembering that I was holding a dozing toddler.
“Kiyah?”
I froze when I heard him say my name—low and gravelly—like he was barely keeping himself together.
I was still processing the split and hadn’t expected to speak to him so soon. I hoped I’d be healed, happy, and healthy the next time we conversed, not cranky, depressed, and sleep-deprived.
“Grant? Are you okay?”
“What is he doing answering your phone?” he hissed. I pulled the phone away and checked the time.
Too damn early to deal with a jealous ex-husband.
“Grant, it’s 4:10 in the morning; I don’t have the energy to argue with you. Are you doing okay?”
“No, I’m not okay. Kieran and I have been trying to call you all day, but we keep getting sent to voicemail. I finally gave up and called from the phone in the common area.”
“I haven’t had any missed calls or voice—Hello? Grant? Are you there? Grant?”
I checked my phone and realized I no longer had a signal.
“Todd, I think the Wi-Fi is out,” I complained.
“It happens sometimes. You should be able to complete your call once we land.”
“My phone has been bugging out lately. I need to buy a new one.”
“Will you allow me to purchase it?”
I grimaced in the darkness. “No. You’ve done enough.”
“Technically, it’s in your contract that I provide you with a personal communication device.”
“It’s not necessary. I can provide my own.”
He chuckled. “Are you usually this independent?”
Sir, shut the fuck up and go to sleep… damn.
“Only when I’m tired,” I replied with a frustrated sigh, indicating I was over the conversation. I wasn’t trying to be a bitch, but if it was too early in the morning to be fighting with Grant, then it was too early in the morning to have a man I wasn’t fucking grinning in my face.
Wordlessly, he left, and I couldn’t have been happier. I was settling back into my seat when he returned.
“Hey, Kiyah. I put the bed down. Why don’t you go rest, and I’ll take over?”
I turned in my seat and nearly cried when I saw the convertible couches folded down into a bed.
“Thank you. I’ll take you up on that offer,” I whispered as I peeled Pete off of me and handed him over to his father.
“Good night, Kiyah.”
“Good night.”
I bit back a groan when I climbed into the makeshift bed and tunneled underneath the soft duvet. My head had barely hit the pillow when I heard Pete whining and Todd trying to shush him.
“Ki,” Pete wailed.
“She’s sleeping. Lie down and go to sleep, son,” Todd said, trying to reason with the toddler. The boy kept calling me until I eventually broke.
“Send him back here, Todd,” I said from under the blanket.
“It’s fine, Kiyah. Go to sleep.”
“That’s a little hard to do when he keeps saying my name.”
“If you wish,” he relented.
I threw back the cover, and despite my sour mood, I smiled as Pete toddled down the aisle in his favorite rocket ship onesie. Upon his arrival, he blessed me with a slow grin and didn’t hesitate to throw himself into the bed with me.
“Ki,” he cooed excitedly.
“Uh uh. Let me tell you something, Pistol Pete. You’re gonna lay down and go to sleep.”
“Go sleep?”
“Yeah, go to sleep. I don’t want to have to give you the bourbon in the bottle like my granddad did to my brother,” I joked.
That’s probably why Kieran’s the way he is now.
Pete ignored me and patted sticky hands on my face while singing me a song we learned last week. Of course, he’d gotten the words jumbled up and missed a few, but that wasn’t enough to keep me from passing out.
Thaddeus
I stood unsteadily on my feet, swaying slightly when the jet hit minor turbulence. I swallowed down the remainder of the whiskey in my tumbler while trying to convince myself not to drag her out of bed and put her in her fucking place.
Who the fuck does she think she’s talking to, demanding that I don’t pick up her phone again? And what about that passive-aggressive “only when I’m tired” bullshit?
Anna used to get out of turn and speak to me like that, but she learned her lesson quickly when I was forced to punish her.
It’s fine. Get yourself together, Todd. You’re just going through an adjustment period. Kiyah will soon learn that insolent behavior of any kind will not be tolerated.
I stared down at her and my son, trying to remind myself to stay focused because there was still a lot of work to be done. Isolating Kiyah from her family wouldn’t be easy. For one, there were too many of them, and too many of them gave a fuck about her—especially Grant.
I nearly lost my composure when I read his name on her caller ID and answered her cell phone without realizing it.
I almost ground my teeth down to the gum line when he threatened to kill me.
I could have him arrested and thrown in jail for making a threat against a government official, but there was no fun in that.
Instead, I told him that would be difficult considering his internment at the rehab facility.
I should visit him. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to receive an update about his wife from me. Maybe if I feed him a few lies, he’ll spiral and die from alcohol poisoning from rehab toilet wine.
I snorted and froze when she rolled onto her back. I waited for her eyes to open, and I was forced to explain why I was hovering above her like some creep. However, fortuitously enough, she didn’t wake.
“I need to get your family to hate you,” I muttered.
I was drawn away from Kiyah when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Sir, please be seated. The plane is making its final descent.”
“Thank you, Desi. Also, thank you for disconnecting the Wi-Fi.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
“Also, when you accompany her to the cell phone carrier, purchase an identical one and deliver it to me.”
“Yes, sir. Anything else?”
“Not at the moment. It’s business as usual for you. I’ll let you know if my plans change.”
Kiyah
I’m dreaming. That’s it. Because there’s no way in Hell that Reality Todd thought we’d share a room!
“I’m sorry, but I’m uncomfortable with this,” I said. He inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling, and it irked me that he felt I was being unreasonable.
“Kiyah, I understand that sharing close quarters isn’t ideal, but there was a snafu with our booking, and our original rooms were canceled.
The only room left in the hotel is a two-bedroom suite—you’ll have your own room, and I’ll have mine.
If you think about it, it’s no different than our current living arrangements at home. ”
I massaged my temples and tried to reel in my temper. Logically, he was making sense, but our interaction on the plane left a bad taste in my mouth. I was annoyed by his forwardness and didn’t want to hear, see, or breathe the same air as him for the next several hours.
I must be PMSing.
“Listen, why don’t you take the day off? You seem… not like yourself, and caring for a rambunctious child may not improve your mood. I have some meetings later in the afternoon, and I’m sure Pete would love tagging along with me.”
“I—”
“It’s for the best. We haven’t had much father-son time since you became his nanny.”
“No, I’m fine with Pete,” I responded. The corner of his mouth ticked up in a brief smile.
“I know, Kiyah. You’re amazing with Pete, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he already looked up to you as a mother figure, but you need a break. If you’re not at your best, then Pete suffers, and we don’t want that, do we?”
“No, but—”
“How about you sleep in, have brunch, and then enjoy a day in the spa courtesy of your boss?”
“That’s not necessary,” I tried to argue. He shot me a pitying glance before we entered the elevator with Desi and the other two bodyguards who joined us on the trip.
“Self-care is essential, Kiyah.”
I relented because I felt we were talking in circles and getting nowhere.
“Fine. If you insist.”
“I do. I’ll make the arrangements.”
We entered the suite, and I didn’t hesitate to select the nearest bedroom.
I closed the door behind me and kicked off my shoes.
I stripped off my clothing and committed to taking the hottest shower known to man.
It wasn’t until I was completely drenched that I realized I hadn’t grabbed my suitcase from Sutton, Desi’s second-in-command.
I examined the toiletries the hotel provided and was relieved to find quality products.
As I showered, I tried not to think about my brief exchange with Grant and how my heartstrings tugged from hearing his voice.
Nothing was endearing about the conversation in the least bit, but pathetically, I’d been missing him, and I was so fucked up that I’d take the harsh words rather than nothing at all.
My therapist and I were working on it, but it was like the saying went: Rome wasn’t built in a day.
I wondered if he hated me for how everything panned out. His alcoholism was revealed, he was forced to step down from the firm and enter inpatient rehab, and was going through a divorce. On paper, he’d hit rock bottom, and I was partly to blame.
We shouldn’t have ever crossed that line and indulged in our longing for one another.
Naivety and hormones convinced us we’d have a happily-ever-after and that we were somehow impervious to the curveballs life sometimes threw.
We were under the impression that our love was unique—that we loved differently, fought differently, and fucked differently than the other billions of people on the planet.
In reality, our relationship after the wedding was a soap opera, and the network finally decided not to renew it for another season.
The worst part of it all was knowing there would come a time when I’d disappoint my family again.
Because as much as Grant deserved to move on with his life and be happy with someone else, I couldn’t be present for it.
I couldn’t attend family functions with his girlfriend or pick out a generous wedding gift for the happy couple, and I’d never be the doting aunt.
I wouldn’t stick around to watch my dream become someone else’s reality.
And I’m a hypocrite for feeling this way because I had the dream but allowed it to slip through my fingers like tiny grains of sand. He was right. I am selfish.
I dried off and wrapped a towel around myself before entering the bedroom, where I found my suitcase resting at the foot of the bed.
My jaw ticked. I was stuck between being annoyed that someone had entered my room while I was in the shower and grateful that I didn’t have to put on dirty clothes to go hunt it down.
After lotioning and completing the rest of my night routine, I threw on one of Grant’s shirts that somehow made it into my suitcase when he packed it and kicked my ass to the curb.
The delusional part of me tried rationalizing that he put the shirt in my suitcase on purpose, while the sane side reminded me that he was blindly tossing clothes into the bag, and it meant nothing.
I climbed into bed, turned off the lamp, and closed my eyes. Approximately two seconds later, I received a calendar notification. I checked it and groaned at the Virtual Sister Brunch that was scheduled for 11:00 AM.
I declined, only to receive another notification a few seconds later: the sisters’ brunch with an additional guest had been pushed back to 11:30 AM.
“Fuck, I’ll be there,” I said, confirming my attendance before passing out.