I’m obsessed with my daughter’s nanny. I can’t stop thinking about the way she eats. I got hard watching her enjoy chicken piccata. I’m losing my mind.
“Nothing,” I said. “Just tired.”
“Uh-huh.” Hayden didn’t look convinced. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain nanny, would it?”
My jaw tightened. “No.”
“Because Fitz mentioned you’ve been—”
“Fitz needs to mind his own business.”
“Fitz is concerned. We all are. You’ve been off all week.”
I had been.
I knew I had been.
I’d been staying late at the office, finding excuses to avoid going home at my usual time. When I did get home, I kept interactions with Cate brief and professional. “Good evening. How was Megan today? Thank you. Goodnight.”
Nothing that would give away the fact that I was thinking about her constantly. Nothing that would reveal how badly I wanted to pull her into my office, lock the door, and find out if she tasted as good as she looked.
“I’m handling it,” I said.
“Handling what?”
“The situation.”
Hayden’s expression shifted—understanding mixed with something that looked like sympathy. “Gabriel, if you’re attracted to her—”
“I’m not discussing this.”
“—that’s normal. She’s young, she’s attractive, she’s good with Megan.”
“She’s my employee.”
“She’s also an adult who can make her own decisions.”
“The power dynamic alone makes it inappropriate.”
“Only if you make it inappropriate,” Hayden said. “If there’s genuine mutual interest.”
“There isn’t.”
Liar.
I’d seen the way she looked at me. The way her breath had caught when our fingers touched. The way she’d fled my house like she was running from something.
From me.
From this.
“You’re overthinking it,” Hayden said.
“I’m being professional.”
“You’re being stubborn.”
“Staff meeting,” I said, standing. “We’re going to be late.”
