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“No!” I tut. How the hell a guy with the intelligence of a goldfish became a CEO is beyond me. “I mean the single dad who’s looking for a nanny. The one who I thought I was coming to meet today. Brandon’s friend of a friend.”
He lifts his thick, dark brows — which, by the way, have no business being so perfectly shaped. Maybe I should find out where he gets them plucked. “Again, that would be me.”
I remain puzzled until the words finally and slowly register.
But there’s no way…
“You have a kid?”
He seems to enjoy my surprise on the surface, but he radiates tension in his squared shoulders and unforgiving stance. His knuckles turn white around his briefcase — protective. “I do.”
This is a secret, I realize. There’s no way I wouldn’t have known otherwise.
But clearly, Brandon did.
Another huge thing he’s done a wonderful job of hiding. I should start making a tally.
Rocking on my heels, I glance outside and try to get my thoughts in order. It’s hard when they’re screaming: Roman Sterling has a child. Roman Sterling is a single dad. Roman Sterling is looking for a nanny.
The information simply does not compute, no matter how many times my mind rotates the same words.
And Brandon, for whatever reason, is trying to set me up for this job? Why? Guilt?
Funny. The world outside looks the same: cars pass by, trucks are unloaded, people walk to and from work with their ears pressed to their phones and boxes of refrigerated sushi in their hands. In here, though, everything I know has changed. I didn’t think this man was capable of anything that doesn’t involve making money.
How did he end up as a single father? Why does no one know about it?
“Still with me, Madison?” He clicks his fingers in my face as though waking me from a trance.
I glower. “Excuse me for being a little taken aback by this strange turn of events. I just had no idea…”
“Not many people do.” He smooths down his tie. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this conversation is making him nervous. “I’d appreciate it if we kept it that way.”
“But why?”
His eyes narrow to slits, scrunching a freckle on the upper left side of his nose that I’d never noticed before. “I don’t think I owe you an explanation regarding my personal life.”
He’s right, of course, but he’s still an ass for saying so in that high-and-mighty way of his.
The reality of the situation kicks in with a twist in my gut. I’m not getting a job today or even a consideration. I’ll have to go home and pick through more listings — and spend more time with this new, unwelcome anxiety in the process.
I feel so lost. I don’t have a place in the world to go but home, where I have no purpose, no success. I’ve never felt so defeated before. I’ve been working hard to achieve my goals since the age of sixteen, and like a train screeching into the station, I’ve come to a stop all at once.
The truth is, I don’t know who I am anymore, and I feel like getting back on my feet is the only way to find out. Unfortunately, that isn’t happening.
“Fine.” I slump back into my chair and cross my legs, running my finger along the rim of my empty mug. “What a waste of a decent outfit.”
He peruses me like I’m a library, freely and without shame. I can’t help but wonder why he’s still standing here. He made it pretty clear he wouldn’t be entertaining this conversation, and I have no desire to draw it out. I may even go drown my sorrows in a cocktail bar while I wait for Brandon to finish up at work.
“What?” I snap.
He shakes his head. “Nothing… I’m just sorry that your time was wasted. And rest assured, Brandon will be sorry, too, when I get back to the office.”
“Good. You should fire him. Then we’ll both be jobless.” I hate how spiteful I sound, but I can’t help it. Why would Brandon ever think this was a good idea?
Roman is still there, still watching me. I want to climb out of my skin and scuttle away so his eyes won’t bore into me any longer. Instead, I set my chin and stare right back.
“What really happened in Italy?” he asks carefully.
