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Me and Daisy get along just fine, thank you.
Until Nathalie came along. And now, more often than not, it’s:Daisy, Nathalie, and I get along just fine.But I’m aware I’ve lost the plot, and it’s not realistic to allow myself to think like that. She’ll be with us until her year is up, and then she’ll return to Paris and probably find a good husband. She loves children, so will no doubt want some of her own.
I wonder what type of man she’ll marry and try to picture her with a French truck driver.No.Perhaps a middle-class banker or lawyer?
The vision triggers a painful stab in my chest for which I’m unprepared, and I inhale sharply.
As my driver manoeuvres the car smoothly through the streets of late-night London, onto the road to Richmond, my head falls back against the seat, and I drift into a light doze for a few seconds. Thoughts of Nathalie touching me and me touching her consume me, and then my eyelids peel open and I’m wide awake. And uncomfortably stiff.
Since that night, I crave her even more desperately than before.
We haven’t spoken about our erotic interlude in the kitchen. By the time Daisy settled down to sleep, it was late, and when I went back downstairs, Nathalie had gone to bed.
I didn’t want to be pushy by going to her room, in case she had second thoughts, so I sat up for a while hoping she’d reappear, but the house was silent.
The next day brought a hectic breakfast routine without Mrs Johnson to organise things and the usual getting ready for school shenanigans. I tried to draw Nathalie’s eyes to mine, to gauge her reaction, but she kept busy with Daisy and didn’t look me in the eye once. She seemed distant and I guess she regrets compromising her position, which I can understand.
I sigh as we enter Richmond. I know I must broach the subject to clear the air, but I don’t know what to say or how to say it, which is not a problem I typically encounter. Words come easily to me, but with her, I struggle to find the right ones.
I want her desperately, but I can’t have her.
It was a fatal mistake to make a move on her like that, no matter how much I crave her. I curse my impetuous action and regret putting us both in this awkward spot. Daisy must always be my top priority, and I can’t risk messing things up for her.Again.But it looks like I already did, and I hope Nathalie can forgive me and we can move past this and be friends.
I like her a lot and if we can’t be lovers, then I hope we can at least be good friends. The thing is, although I fancy her madly, I alsoreallylike spending time with her. She has an easy way about her, and when we’re together with Daisy, we all just click effortlessly. It’s magical and I don’t want to lose it. I don’t want to lose her.
I consider apologising for the other night and proposing a friendship, and I try to imagine how she’ll react. Honestly, other than mutual physical attraction, which can’t be denied after the red-hot session in the kitchen, I don’t know how she feels about me. When you’re the boss, you never know if people’s reactions to you are genuine, or if they’re just being polite and professional.
I know I could fall for her completely, but I also know I can’t let myself do it, so I try to lock down these intense feelings and fortify myself to protect Daisy. And my battered heart.
My personal assistant forwarded me some potential days for a date with the banking magnate’s granddaughter. The email is sitting in my inbox, and I’ve ignored it for two days. But I can’t ignore it forever. I mustn’t kid myself—this is like any other business merger. She’s the heir to a powerful family who own an international banking empire that spreads all the way to Asia. I don’t need Grandfather or Damian to explain to me why this would make sense for Rochesters & Co. It’s obvious that on paper it would be a fortuitous match for both our families.
But what about for me? And Daisy?
And what about the woman being offered for sacrifice to unite Rochesters and Archer Banking?
I’m not ruthless, and the prospect of marrying someone I don’t love turns me cold. It’s unfair to both of us, not to mention to Daisy, because if it doesn’t work out there’ll be another divorce which will be more upheaval for her.
‘No more divorces.’ I hear Grandfather’s sharp words ringing in my head. ‘You’ve had one failed marriage. We cannot afford another divorce scandal.’
The car pulls into its spot, and I thank my driver and wish him goodnight as he gets into his own car to go home. He’ll be back first thing to drive me to Mayfair.
The irony isn’t lost on me. All this supreme privilege, but I’m like a caged bird with clipped wings. All the money in the world to buy whatever toys I want, but my life is about to be auctioned off to the highest bidder and I can do nothing to stop it.
I feel powerless and trapped as I enter the house in a sombre mood. It’s quiet and no one’s around. When I say no one, I mean Nathalie, of course. She has to be up early to get Daisy ready for school, so she’s probably been in bed for hours.
I think she may have overheard my conversation with Daisy when I took her up to bed, and Daisy noticed I was dressed for going out. I told her I was meeting Uncle Damian and Caspian.
When I came back down, shortly after, Nathalie was nowhere to be seen.
A couple of times a week she volunteers at a children’s centre and doesn’t return until quite late, so I called up to her to check she would be at home for Daisy and there was no clash in our schedules.
‘Have a good night,’ she replied.
Her usually bubbly voice sounded flat, and her words were devoid of emotion.
I can’t say I’m surprised.
What a supreme nob I am. I’ve completely fucked everything up.
