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“Always look on the bright side?”
“It’s worked so far,” Gabi said.
She reentered her office and felt a little better about the encounter with Kingsley. Then she got down to business. She left a message for Rupert Green, the county commissioner who was her contact on the playground. Then she texted Kingsley asking for the dimensions of her office, which he immediately texted back, also assuring her that he would furnish the space. She almost told him that she would do it herself, but she still had to pack her office and her personal belongings so she decided to let him handle it.
She managed to stay busy enough the entire day not to allow herself to think until she was driving out to Kingsley’s house. Butterflies danced in her stomach and she had that stupid tingling in her body that she knew was from excitement. How could she be excited?
Kingsley.
She knew it would be useless to deny it. They had unfinished business between them. Ten years might have passed, but when he’d walked into her office today she’d felt like a college freshman again, starstruck by her first sight of the handsome quarterback.
But she’d learned that the golden boy wasn’t untouchable. So why...
She shook her head. Was it possible that she was still crushing on him? That Kingsley Buchanan still had a hold over her despite the way he’d treated her? Not just ten years ago but today, arrogantly waltzing back into her life and making her feel again.
Awakening desires and passions she’d shoved to the darkest part of her soul in an attempt to never be that vulnerable again.
She had to remember that. How exposed he’d made her feel. She was stronger now. She had to be.
And there was little Conner to think about. She knew next to nothing about the boy, only that he was three and that Kingsley had used some of her methods with the toddler.
Great.
She was doing the very thing she’d warned nannies not to do for years. Going in blind.
She could justify it to Melissa by saying Kingsley was funding a playground that an economically disadvantaged community desperately needed. She could justify it to her mom by saying that getting back in the field would give her a better perspective for running her business.
But justifying it to herself just felt hollow. Like a lie. As she pulled to a stop in front of Kingsley’s Spanish-style mansion, she admitted that she was here for one reason and one reason alone.
Kingsley had asked and she’d been unable to say no.
* * *
Kingsley had tried to get furniture that mirrored the stuff he’d seen in Gabi’s office earlier but it turned out some of her pieces, such as the settee, were one of a kind. So he’d had to settle for some substitutions. All in all he was happy with the stuff he’d managed to get here on such short notice.
He was working under the desk connecting the computer and printer cords while his son lay on the floor nearby coloring.
Seven years younger than his older brother, Kingsley had been an “accident.” His parents had gone back to work and sort of moved into a new phase of their lives when he was born. He’d been left in the care of his nanny most of the time. And he wasn’t complaining about that. But he’d never had much of a chance to just hang out with his father. Kingsley did his best to make sure that he and Conner did have plenty of time together.
“Daddy? How’s this?” Conner brought a piece of copy paper that he’d been drawing on with his crayons over to him. The brightly colored scribbles were Conner’s version of the view from their backyard. Kingsley had three of the images framed and hanging on his own office wall.
When he’d brought Conner into the office he was setting up for Gabi, his son had insisted on making her a picture—or rather, a “picter,” as he said it.
“Looks good. I bet she’ll love it.”
Someone cleared her throat and Kingsley glanced up to see Gabi standing in the doorway. “The housekeeper let me in and told me where to find you.”
He let his gaze skim over her from the floor up. She’d changed into a pair of white jeans that hugged her slim legs and a pretty turquoise blouse that was made out of some sort of flowing fabric. She had pulled her long caramel-colored hair back into a ponytail and wore a pair of flat sandals on her feet.
She squatted down, smiling at Conner. “Can I see your picture?”
“Yes.”
He walked over to her with that toddler gait of his, sometimes speedy and a little unsteady. He handed her the photo and then went even closer, putting his hand on Gabi’s knee as he pointed to the picture.
