Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“I don’t know, Mr. Aldridge,” I say.
He frowns. His perceptive, broody eyes seem to look into me, not at me. It’s like he’s searching me. I wish I could say I dislike it and claim it’s off-putting and gross. It would make all of this easier. But I can’t.
“Maybe I should try and get some more sleep before Emery wakes up.”
“Sure,” he mutters.
I walk down the stairs. He doesn’t move. I’m sure he’s watching me. In the top corner, something glints. It’s one of the security cameras. He can watch me anytime he likes. He can sit in his office in the city, sipping a whiskey, watching me tens of miles away, watching my every little movement. My skin tingles. My mind flares with too many steamy possibilities.
Clenching my jaw, I push it all away, walking quickly across the back yard. I’m here to do a job, nothing else.
Chapter Five
Gray
“I’m going to miss you, Daddy,” Emery says as I say goodbye at the front gate. I kneel in front of her, holding her hands in mine. She gives me a big nod that makes me so proud but also terrified on some deep level as I realize that, far too soon, these days will be past us. “I know you have to work. I know you have to get money and do big and cool things.”
I smile, kissing her on the forehead. “I’ll be home later for dinner,” I tell her. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Daddy.” She throws her arms around me.
Standing up, I look at Callie. She’s wearing another of her summer dresses, the fabric pulled snugly at her breasts and hips. It’s like it was designed to highlight all her most perfect aspects. She’s got her beautiful hair down. Her expression seems carefully neutral. Did I come off as a creep, walking around shirtless with her? It didn’t even occur to me until after. I felt extremely comfortable with her like that.
“Big plans for today?” I ask.
“She has a playdate,” Callie replies. “And then I think we might explore the world of imagination. Reading, writing, inventing games. We might do some baking. I’ll keep her busy and challenged.”
“I’m sure you will,” I say.
That’s it. I turn and get into my car. What did I expect? Too much, clearly. Last night—or the morning, really—a dark look came over her face when I asked her why she didn’t sleep deeply. It was like she was reliving an entire movie of evils. Strangely, I wanted to pull her close to me, whispering that it would all be okay. I wanted to help her, save her. But from what? I couldn’t imagine. I’m also possibly reading too much into it for other reasons. Is this what a crush feels like?
Dammit, I need to get my head on straight. I need to remember that I’m twenty years older than her—that if I made a move and she rejected me, it’d ruin the relationship Emery is building with her. I’d been burned before, badly, and I promised myself I’d never let it happen again. I need to remember that a relationship with her cannot, under any circumstances, happen.
***
I stand at my office window, looking out upon the city. I’ve been working for around three hours, mostly brainstorming. Plus, I had a call with a modern art aficionado to discuss possible ideas. I enjoy modern art, but mostly in painting form. My client wants sculptures, so I decided to consult a professional.
My phone makes an alert noise. I take it out and press the camera notification. It shows Callie and Emery returning from the playdate, Emery skipping happily at Callie’s side. Seeing my daughter with a maternal figure fills me with joy, but I must remember. She’s just a nanny. She’s an employee.
Returning to my desk, I track their movements through the house. They go into the entranceway. Emery looks up at the camera. I switch on the audio in time to see her point and say, “Look, Callie. Daddy’s watching! Hi, Daddy! Say hi, Callie!”
This angle gives me a slight shot of Callie’s cleavage. Her cheeks are flushed, as if she’s been running around as much as my daughter, making her look irresistible.
“Hey,” Callie says with a short wave.
“Can I have a nap, Callie? Before reading time?”
“Of course you can. That’s a great idea. Let me make you a sandwich first.”
I return to work for around thirty minutes, but then I can’t resist the urge. I cycle through the cameras again. Emery is asleep on the couch. I see that Callie has set up the baby monitor nearby, which isn’t strictly necessary, considering our security, but it’s a nice added touch. My daughter sleeps soundly.
I keep moving through the cameras. When I see where Callie is, my shaft floods with heat. My head grows light. My body flares with an urgency I’ve never felt before.