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Was I a terrible person? I wanted to go out with my best friend, wanted to be able to cut loose after a high-pressure job and a stressful life outside of work, and wanted to forget about how much I wanted Heather and how hard she was trying to push me away.
And yet, I didn’t know how Heather would react to me coming home late. I thought about it for a moment. Did I actually care about her approval? It had to be the fact that she was a child psychologist—a certified expert on kids—and I might have been feeling a little inadequate in the childcare department lately.
“Let me get back to you on that,” I said, and Jason grumbled.
“Keep that attitude up, G, and you’ll never see the outside of your house or office again. Be honest. Do you have someone on the side you’ve been seeing? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you so domesticated.”
I knew what he meant by “a while” without him elaborating. I’d been faithful to Josie, and I also curbed my worst tendencies to be with her, especially when I knew she was carrying my child.
That hadn’t stopped me from discovering exactly who she was, though— someone who only wanted me for my family’s name, our legacy, and our money.
During my bitterest, loneliest nights, though I would never admit it to anyone, I wondered how many times I had missed an opportunity to truly connect with someone else while I was with Josie. That maybe I squandered whatever chances I might have had with someone else because I’d been with her.
“Of course not. I’ve been busy lately, you know. I’ve also got to break in the new nanny and all,” I said, deciding not to share just how intimately I’d “broken in” Heather recently. “I’ll text you.”
“Come through, man.” Jason ended the call.
That left me with the awkward job of contacting Heather to essentially ask her permission to go out tonight. It was a situation I didn’t appreciate being in.
“Headed back home?” Heather chirped in false brightness in lieu of a traditional “hello.” “Collins has an art project she’d love to get your feedback on.”
“Can you be there late for Collins?” I asked, feeling stupid for even having to do so. I had never asked Carol to stay late. She simply stayed until I got home, no matter what time it was. And she never quizzed or grilled me or complained.
That was the worst part about having to break in a new nanny with the added complication of sleeping with her.
“No,” Heather said crisply.
“No?” I laughed incredulously. “What, do you have a hot date tonight?”
“That is none of your business,” she retorted. “I am here on a temporary basis between the hours of 8 and 5, and before and after that, I have things I need to do, Graham.”
“It’s important,” I said, sighing at my own lie. Why the hell did I feel so guilty? I worked hard, and I deserved some time apart from everything to relax.
“What is it, then?” Heather asked. “A meeting? Work to finish? Something that can’t wait until tomorrow?”
“Something like that,” I hedged. What was wrong with me? My voice sounded dubious, even to my own ears.
“Something like what?”
My exasperation and temper flared. “Don’t question me.”
There was a long pause, and then her cold, clinical tone returned. “You listen to me. I am caring for your daughter because I am doing you a favor. That favor lasts during business hours on weekdays. I did not return to Windover County to babysit some rich guy’s kid out of the kindness of my heart. I am still maintaining a job back in New York, and I’m helping my mom move.”
There was a part of me that felt bad. She was right. I was overstepping. But I’d grown up acting like this and recognizing how important it was to push forward. I knew if I didn’t seize something I wanted, it would be taken from me.
“Fine,” I said, straightening my shoulders. “We didn’t talk about compensation.”
Heather spluttered. “What we talked about and agreed is you’d leave my mom alone and that while I was here, I’d watch your kid. On a temporary basis.”
“All preliminary,” I said smoothly. “If you can commit to being on call for my daughter, I’d be happy to pay you a million dollars for your time.”
“I can’t always be on call,” she immediately said, apparently not even hearing my offer. “I just told you I have other things I need to do.”
“And I just offered you a million dollars,” I said. “What, do you want more? Two? Three?”
“Three is what you offered my mom,” Heather said flatly. “But that’s not going to work with me.”
“Come on. I know you can’t be earning that much counseling spoiled little shits in New York,” I said. “Think of what you could do with all that money. I’m willing to give it to you. It’s yours.”
