Page 26 of The Billionaire's Virgin

“And you need to get drunk a little more,” Megan hit back. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been more than ready to sacrifice your weekends and your nights for this guy.”

“It’s for Jenna,” I said. “Not Reed.”

“Maybe it’s for both?”

I laughed. “Okay, this conversation is over. I need to get some sleep because I need to get to work early tomorrow.”

“Of course, you have to see Reed off, huh?” Megan said, shooting me a sly glance.

“I have to get Jenna to school on time.”

“Sure, sure.” Megan nodded, with disbelief. “I’ll pretend to buy that.”

I picked up the same cushion that Megan had thrown at me and shoved it in her face. Then I headed to my room and closed the door. I had a quick shower and changed into sweats and a baggy t-shirt. Then I fell back onto my bed and gave a sigh of relief. I was always exhausted after work; people underestimated just how much energy and commitment it took to look after a child all day.

But despite how tired I was, it was a fulfilled kind of tired. The kind of tired that made you feel like you were doing something meaningful. I wasn’t lying when I said I loved Jenna. She was a wonderful, curious, and thoughtful little girl and I was glad to be her nanny. But my feelings for Reed were starting to grate on my nerves.

I had hoped they would dissipate after some time. After all, the more you got to know about someone, the less they impressed you. But with Reed, it seemed to be the other way around. The more I got to know him, the more connected I felt to him. Apparently, he had had an abusive father too, and when he had told me he knew exactly how I felt, I believed him. It was the kind of thing you had to have been through to truly understand.

Since that conversation, we hadn’t really talked much. And I got the feeling that Reed was trying to avoid me a little. I wondered if he regretted sharing that with me, but I figured he just didn’t want to blur the lines. After all, I was his daughter’s nanny.

Then there was the whole Sofia thing that had me completely blindsided. I didn’t know why it should affect me so much. It was a random name that Jenna had blurted out, but I sensed that there was more to that story, and more to the name that I knew at present.

We had been making cookies in the kitchen, and I had pushed the cookie batter towards Jenna. “Go on,” I said. “Have a taste. I won’t tell a soul.”

“Really?” Jenna has asked, with big eyes.

“Yep.”

Just then the phone had started to ring, and I had picked up. “Hello?”

No one answered, but I could have sworn there was someone on the other line. “Hello?” I said again. “Reed… is that you?”

There was still no answer, but the low breathing persisted and the line was crystal clear. Feeling slightly uneasy, I tried again. “Hello… is there anyone there?”

When I still got no answer, I hung up. But when I looked towards Jenna, her eyes were wide, and she looked slightly upset.

“Sweetheart, what is it?”

“Was it Sofia?” she asked.

I frowned. “Sofia?” I repeated. “Who’s that?”

“Nobody,” Jenna said, looking back at the cookie dough. “You want some too?”

I wanted to ask her again, but I decided against it. She clearly didn’t want to talk about this Sofia person, and I had no right to ask. So I took some cookie batter and tried to ignore the nagging worry in the back of my head that told me Sofia was a woman from Reed’s past.

I tried to sleep, but my thoughts were plagued by a faceless woman standing next to Reed that I somehow knew was beautiful. She was tall and graceful, and she hung on his arm like a prize. I shook off the image and sat up. It was ridiculous to be so preoccupied with the man.

He had shown interest in me before, but I knew that was purely professional. He was just sizing me up, trying to get to know the woman who was looking after his child. I would have done the same thing in his position. It would be silly of me to mistake that interest as personal. It would be naïve to think that he was interested in me.

A part of me mourned the missed opportunity there, however. If I had been anyone other than his daughter’s nanny, we might have had a chance. We had a lot in common, and despite a certain initial bit of awkwardness, conversation between us flowed when we got going. I couldn’t help wondering: would things have been different if I’d met him in a bookstore or if I’d seen him in a bar?

But then I thought about the life he led—fast pace, high flying, and opulent—and I realized that I was just a small-town girl from a poor, not to mention broken, home. I was not the sort of girl a man like Reed Davis would ever be with. I turned into my pillow and shut my eyes, hoping that I wouldn’t dream of him tonight.