Page 47 of The Billionaire's Virgin

I bit my lip. “Why don’t you sit down?” I suggested. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No, thank you.”

I sat down next to Taylor and waited for her to catch her breath. “Did you get a look at who was following you?” I asked.

“No,” Taylor replied. “But…”

“But what?”

“Do you think it could be Sofia?”

I took a deep breath. “I can’t think of who else it could be,” I admitted. “She’s the only one who makes sense. No one else has a reason to follow you… or anyone else in this house. And we have been getting those calls…”

“Have you gotten any recently?”

“The last one I got was more than a month ago.”

Taylor bit her lip. “I answered the phone here a about a week ago… it was the same person who called me in the supermarket just now.”

“You didn’t tell me?”

“Because I thought you had enough on your plate and I didn’t want to trouble you with this,” Taylor admitted. “I’m sorry, I should have told you.”

“No, it’s okay,” I said. “I understand why you didn’t tell me.”

“Don’t you have a restraining order out against her?” Taylor asked.

“I do.” I nodded. “But it’s not like I can report her at this point. We can’t offer any proof that she’s the one that’s calling, nor can we definitively say that she was the one who was following you in the supermarket.”

“I think she’s been following me for way longer,” Taylor revealed.

“What do you mean?”

“Over the last several months, ever since I started working for you, I’ve had this strange feeling that I’m being watched when we’re out in public.”

“Really?”

“It’s happened maybe four or five times now, but I’ve never noticed anyone specific, and I’ve always just assumed that I was being paranoid because of…”

She trailed off, and I saw her grow a little self-conscious. “What is it, Taylor?” I asked gently.

“I used to feel this way when I was a young girl,” Taylor admitted. “I used to leave the house to escape my stepfather, and I was always paranoid that he would follow me and drag me back home. It never happened; I was just reacting badly to his presence. I was overreacting then, and I suppose I just thought I was overreacting now too.”

I reached out and put my hand over hers. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Taylor said, making an attempt at a smile. “It’s not your fault. He was the bastard who thought it was okay to hit women and children.”

“I know the kind,” I said, thinking about my own father.

“Yeah.” Taylor nodded. “I honestly wish we had something else in common though.”

I smiled. “Me too.”

I realized that Taylor had gone through her whole life worrying about safety. She had been raised in a house of abuse, and she had come to worry about things that other children never had to. I knew because I had been through the same thing. It was an awful thing to dread going home because you were worried about what you would find when you did.

It was more than just a feeling of worry or dread though. It went deeper than that. Growing up to expect pain meant that you grew up feeling like anyone could harm you at any time. There was no rhyme or reason for it. You didn’t have to deserve it; you didn’t have to ask for it. People could do anything to you. It felt like I had dragged Taylor into my mess.

“I just don’t get it,” Taylor said, shaking her head. “If this is your ex-girlfriend, why would she care about me? I’m just the nanny.”