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He’d made it clear he wanted Blake and Ciara to make the house totally festive this year. When Blake first started as Ciara’s nanny, Morgan had given her a credit card that she used for weekly groceries but also so she could pick up things for his child or the household as needed. Now he told her to go ahead and use it for whatever they wanted for Christmas. So, Ciara and Blake went shopping almost daily for tree ornaments and holiday linens and dessert plates and wreaths and figurines and bells and music boxes and dangling stars, plus gifts for family members, and even holiday toys for Misty and Gracie. It was endless. And they had great fun doing it, usually hitting shops in one town or another once she picked Ciara up after school, as well as searching together for some items online.
When Morgan said he wanted to have a family dinner here and included Phil, Harper and Marni, Blake had been elated. Was labeling her uncle, her brother and her sister-in-law “family” his way of saying he intended to marry her? Was it possible the observation made by both Harper and Ciara was right? Was Morgan in love with her?
He never, ever came close to saying it to her. Even though Blake knew without a doubt she was in love with him, she would not risk saying it to him first. Knowing it would put him on the spot, she might end up with an awkward clumsy response at best, or at worst, she might find out her guess that he loved her was way off. And considering the catatonic look Morgan got anytime Ciara mentioned them getting married, she told herself to put the brakes on her runaway heart.
Especially after the email that came in, slamming her with a dose of reality testing.
Today was two days before Christmas. Blake had just put a shepherd’s pie in the oven for dinner, and Ciara was downstairs telling Morgan about Gracie climbing in the Christmas tree. Blake had stolen away to her nanny apartment for a short break and now sat at her desk, gazing out at the snow they had all been hoping for. It was a light, barely there snow, but she would take whatever she could get.
Maybe that was her problem. She had always been willing to take whatever she could get and not ask for more when it came to her feelings. Whether it was accepting her family role of always being last and least as the youngest child, or accepting the meager affection Kendall had meted out as her husband. Was she doing it again with Morgan?
He was a totally generous employer and friend in everything he did, which made her feel guilty that she was not satisfied with all she had, all he had given her. She lived in this big beautiful and secure house, earned a good salary, and had a surrogate daughter that she adored. She had a hot and handsome lover who showed up in her room a few nights a week. And aside from great sex, they had a great friendship.
But everything revolved around Morgan’s life, not Blake’s.
His household, his daughter, his job.
And Morgan never asked her about her life outside of that. As if that was all she could be to him. He sometimes implied they had a future, but what kind of future? Did he mean they would just keep on going this way forever? Would her role always be that of a nanny with side benefits?
Okay, that sounded a little harsh, but the email that came in three days ago was like a wake-up call making her realize there was a big chunk of Blake Sheehan that was missing.
A part of her that Morgan did not know, nor did he seem interested in who she was beyond this household. Yes, Blake had always wanted very badly to be a mother someday, but she had also planned to go back to teaching part time while she raised her children. And to publish some scholarly articles. To return to the academic world that had been hers for so many years.
To keep that part of herself alive.
But her job here as a nanny was full time, her commitment to it more than full time. Even after she put Ciara to bed, Blake was on call if there were any problems. The other day she ran into notes she had made months ago for a piece she’d once been interested in writing for an ancient history journal, but aside from no longer having full access to university resources to research it, by the time she got around to anything like that in what little spare time she had, she was too tired. While Morgan had said he liked to cook, the truth was, Blake did ninety percent of the cooking. And the grocery shopping. And meal planning. And laundry. And helping with Ciara’s homework assignments. And taking Ciara to the dentist or to get new shoes or to swim classes or to and from her girlfriends’ houses. Plus running any other errands needed.
And she’d been loving every minute of it, so much so that the boundaries of when Blake was working and when she was not had gotten blurred. Yes, if she told Morgan she had an appointment somewhere and needed the day off, he would make arrangements for her to have it. But that was far from the norm and she kept that to a minimum, knowing it was hard on him. He was paying her so well that she felt guilty asking for any special treatment, plus she never wanted to disappoint Ciara in any way.
Truthfully, Blake had to admit it was her own fault. She liked being an important and necessary part of the household, someone both Morgan and Ciara could depend on.
Except—it meant a big part of who Blake once was had disappeared. Vanished. And she did not know how to deal with that.
The conflict over this and the decision she now had to make had been on her mind almost constantly over the last three days because of the email that had come in.
Blake clicked it open for the zillionth time and it set off a frenzy of butterflies in her belly.
Shortly before she had moved out of her Manhattan apartment and into Elena’s cottage, Blake had applied for a teaching position at Harvard, her alma mater. There had not even been a job listed in her area of expertise, so she never thought she’d have a chance in hell at getting anything there. But when the art and technology institute where she’d been teaching in Manhattan let her go, she had been so angry and desperate, she’d given it a try anyway. And now this message came in from the university. It was only a request for an interview, but the second email that came in right after this one shed a different light on the situation.
The second email was from Professor Lydia Hanlon who’d been a mentor to Blake when she was a student at Harvard. After acing her undergraduate courses, she had gotten an assistantship and worked under Dr. Hanlon throughout grad school. Blake having no mother and Dr. Hanlon having no children, they had grown close. They had shared meals and other personal activities in addition to the research and administrative work Blake did for her and the guidance Lydia gave her on her doctoral thesis.
Dr. Hanlon’s email told Blake she was the chair of the hiring committee for the position and made it clear that her choice would determine who got the job—and that she would be happy to recommend Blake.
In so many words she was saying…the job was Blake’s if she wanted it.
Full time. Ancient history and the classics. At a school that not only had a great department in this field but also was her alma mater. Working under a woman who was both brilliant and kind.
Blake lowered her head into her hands.
The morning she’d gotten the email, Blake had gone out with her sister-in-law, Marni, to do some final “Santa shopping.” Marni had sensed something was wrong and suggested they stop in a diner for some hot chocolate, then asked her what was going on.
Blake opened up and told her about the job offer from Harvard. “They want me to come in for an interview right after the New Year. Dr. Hanlon is going out on a limb for me. I can’t just leave her hanging. Oh, Marni, I would have given my eyeteeth for an offer like this, but now it means losing Morgan and Ciara. On the other hand, if I just keep on as I am, I’ll be losing a big part of myself. I spent my whole adult life immersed in studying ancient civilizations. It is my world.”
“What did Morgan say about it when you told him?” Marni asked.
Blake moaned. “I haven’t told him about it. What am I supposed to say? ‘Do you want to marry me? Or do you just want me to be your live-in nanny forever?’”
Marni nodded. “Yeah, that is kind of awkward. Except I learned with your brother that it is always better to get things out in the open.”
