by Mia Kayla
“Hey, are you okay?” It was Mason. His eyebrows scrunched together before he walked in.
“Yeah. Why?” My voice croaked out like a teenage boy going through puberty.
“Well, you’ve been sort of out of it lately. I mean, I’ve read that, sometimes, there can be delirium because of the flu, but that’s because of the high fevers. I don’t think that usually lingers.”
I rubbed at my brow, feeling guilt wash over me. “Yeah. About that meeting … I’m sorry about that. I …” I tilted my head from side to side, feeling tension rise to my shoulders.
“Hey.” Brad walked in. “Are we going to lunch?”
He took it upon himself to make an already-awkward situation more intense. Of course, this was his MO.
“Serious conversation?” He plopped down and reached for my coffee, taking a sip.
I glared at him. This guy.
Mason took the seat next to him, his face filling with concern. “Yeah. I was just going to say that I think you should see a doctor. You never get sick, and I think there might be lingering effects from your flu.”
Brad laughed beside him.
Mason threw Brad one of his annoyed looks but continued, “I’m serious, Charles. You haven’t been yourself lately, and I’m concerned.”
Brad interlocked his fingers behind his head and leaned back. “I know exactly what the problem is. It’s too much water.” He winked at me like the devilish bastard that he was.
I rubbed at my temple, an ongoing migraine about to start.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? I’m being serious, and like always, you’re fucking around,” Mason snapped.
Brad tsked beside him. “It’s true. Tell him, big bro,” he said, shooting me a conspiratorial grin.
I let out a long sigh. Where Mason looked at the analytical aspects of things to come to a conclusion, Brad called things out exactly how he saw them.
But I wasn’t ready to expand yet when I hadn’t figured out what I was going to do about my current situation.
We shared a knowing look, one Mason wasn’t a part of.
Mason stood, crossing his arms over his chest, visibly agitated. His gaze ping-ponged from Brad to me and back again. “Listen, can someone fill me in on what’s going on?”
“Getting water”—Brad cleared his throat in an exaggerated effect—“means banging the nanny.”
Mason reeled back. “What?”
“I’m not banging the nanny,” I insisted.
Brad pointed his hand like a gun. “But you want to, don’t you?”
I groaned.
“Don’t deny it, Charles. I’ve seen how you are with her, and I caught you … in Mary’s bed.”
“You had sex on Mary’s bed?” Mason jerked back, and his face scrunched up, disgusted. His voice hitched up, hitting a high soprano note. “Mary’s bed?”
“No, Mason,” I grumbled. “And I have not had sex with Becky.”
Brad leaned in, getting in my face, his words firm, sure. “But you want to.”
We were locked in this staring contest. I was never one to give in. Even when we had been younger, I had been the stronger one of the three of them, born bigger, born first, more reserved but the one with the most restraint.
But I was at a loss this time, so I dropped my gaze to the table and let out a long sigh. “I like her. Yes.” It wasn’t a direct answer to his question, but if I had my way, hopefully, it would eventually lead that way. I dropped my head in my hands, running my fingers through my hair over and over again.
Mason gawked at me. “You can’t. You know nothing about her.”
“Dumbass,” Brad scoffed. “You don’t have to be dating someone forever to know that you’re in love with them. Just because you and Janice are like that doesn’t mean that’s how every relationship works.”
“It’s not love,” I said, shooting my head up.
How could it be? We hadn’t known each other all that long. With Nat, I’d known her for years before I knew I was in love with her.
My brothers completely ignored me.
“Says the guy who can’t hold a relationship,” Mason shot back.
“This is all premature. This might not even go anywhere,” I said, mostly talking to myself.
“Or this might go on everywhere. My room is off-limits though, ’kay?” Brad smirked.
“For once, can you be serious? We don’t even know her,” Mason repeated.
“There’s no we in their equation. And that’s an easy fix, Charles.” Brad leveled me with a stare. “Get to know her.” He stood. “I have to get lunch. My stomach is eating its lining, and I don’t do well without food.” He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “This is good for you, Charles. More than that, Becky is good for you. Trust me.” And then the devilish bastard winked once more before he walked out with Mason who hadn’t said a word.
Chapter 21
Becky
I woke up on my birthday like I did any other day—because no one was supposed to know. I thought no one did, but when I opened my bedroom door, a dozen pink balloons hit me in the face. On the floor lay multiple paintings and cards. There were three animal paintings—one of a llama, the other two of unicorns—all displaying two words: Happy birthday.
My heart expanded as I picked them all up and brought them to my chest. After pulling the balloons into my room and placing the paintings and cards on my desk, I skipped downstairs to get the girls’ breakfast ready.
As always, Charles was there, with my coffee ready, another balloon floating above his head. After handing me my coffee, he pulled the balloon over by its string and gave it to me. “Happy birthday.”
I was cheesing so hard that my cheeks hurt. “Who told you?”
“Patty told us. And you …” He playfully narrowed his eyes. “Don’t even try it. We make the birthdays big and grand for the girls. And they like to make it big and grand for each of us. So, we’re celebrating today. Two years ago, the girls wanted to take Patty to Disney World, so we did.”
When my eyes widened, he said, “Don’t worry. Patty said you wouldn’t enjoy that too much. You’re more low-key.”
I nodded. “I am.” Though I’d love to go to Disney World one day. The day I wasn’t afraid to go out of my house in general.
“But we’ll be doing dinner tonight. All of us. Mary has picked where we’re going.”
My excitement could not be dimmed, and there was a little hop in my step.
We fell into our normal morning routine, me getting breakfast ready and him getting the girls’ lunch ready at the kitchen island.
“What was your most memorable birthday?” Charles slapped some mayo on a piece of bread.
I inhaled and exhaled as memories came back. There were some memorable ones but only ones that I wanted to forget.
I thought he sensed my reluctance to answer because Charles rephrased his question. “Your happiest birthday.”
“Hmm.” I laughed without humor. “My mother did actually remember my birthday one year.” I swallowed down through the pain of the memory. “I forget how old I was, probably a little older than Mary. But I remember it was also the same day that social services had a scheduled visit.” I flipped the pancake on the pan. “I don’t know how I remember that, but I do.” A heaviness spread throughout my body, and I forced myself to focus on the task at hand before the hurt and pain from my past came rushing back and crippled me into a state of sadness.
Silence followed my response, so I peered over my shoulder and forced a smile on my face. “It’s okay though.” I pushed out the words, trying to focus on the positive before the negative took me under. “There are so many other memories, happier ones that replace that.” None of them when I was younger, but more with the families who had adopted me, like Patty’s family.
“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that, Becky. I am.” There was true sincerity in his tone.
I shrugged. “ ’Tis what it is.” I let my past slip from my memory, forced it
back down into a box I hardly ever opened anymore. I continued with the pancakes, placing the cooked one on the plate and pouring more batter on the pan. “It isn’t any different from how you function. You haven’t been dealt the best cards either, but you don’t just lie down and die.”
I watched a flash of pain cross over his face.
“I wanted to. Trust me. If it wasn’t for the girls, I would have,” he admitted. “Didn’t your boyfriend ever celebrate your birthday?”
My whole body stiffened. My mind went into panic mode, searching through all the things I’d told him. When did I ever mentioned my ex-boyfriend?
“You mentioned dating a guy for a while. Someone who kind of enjoyed gambling.” His voice was light, but I knew he was fishing.
I flipped the pancake while my heartbeat thrashed in my ears. How much did I want to share without sharing too much?
“He must have celebrated your birthday. What kind of boyfriend doesn’t celebrate his girlfriend’s birthday?” His voice was softer this time, more cautious.
“My ex-boyfriend.” I turned off the stove and walked straight to the kitchen table with my stack of pancakes. “Let’s just say, he wasn’t the best boyfriend.”
When I passed him to get the milk and orange juice from the fridge, he reached for my forearm. “Becky …”
My breath caught at the intensity of his stare, the concern in them.
“Is that who you’re running from?”
His words were like a dose of cold water in my face, a slap against my cheek. I jerked back, unprepared.
I wanted to tell Charles everything. After keeping my secret to myself for so long, he was the person I wanted to tell the most because I wanted him to know me—all of me. He knew snippets of my life, but for once, I wanted to give someone the whole picture.
He squeezed my forearm, leaning in to get in my line of sight. “You can trust me, Becky. I’ll protect you.”
I squeezed my eyes tight. What a lovely thought, letting Charles protect me. Valiant of him. But he had no idea. He couldn’t protect me from Paul. He had no idea what kind of monster Paul was. If anything, this family, Charles included, would be collateral damage, and I couldn’t let that happen. I would never forgive myself. I couldn’t even fathom accidentally bringing that devil anywhere close to this perfect family.
I slowly extracted myself from him and ignored his question, opening the fridge and avoiding eye contact.
“Becky …” Desperation. There was desperation in his voice.
Charles was never desperate, and it tugged at my heart. Tugged so hard that I almost …
No!
My ears burned. I needed a minute to myself, but everyone would be down soon, and I had to get breakfast ready.
Task at hand.
Focus on the task at hand.
Glasses out. Juice for Mary. Milk for Sarah.
“Becky!” he whispered fiercely.
Cut the pancakes up for Mary. Tiny pieces. She likes tinier pieces.
“Becky …” He gently yanked me to face him, his face tormented. “I just want to get to know you more.”
There was a long, pregnant pause, and our eyes locked. I could see the confusion and sincerity in his eyes, questions he had for me, questions I couldn’t answer because it would reveal too much.
I trusted him. I did. But not with this. My mother was harmless. She could no longer hurt me or this family. So, while talking about her was painful, it didn’t bring imminent danger.
Still, I could feel this pressure cooker building inside of me, wanting to tell him, but I was also curious as to why he wanted to know so badly. “Why?” The word flew from my lips before I had a chance to stop it. I should have stayed silent. It didn’t matter why he wanted to get to know me more because I wasn’t going to bring up things I wanted to forget.
A small breath escaped him before he leaned into me. “Because … because I like you, Becky.” His words flew out effortlessly, straightforward, honest—all qualities signature to Charles, the CEO.
And I knew what he meant—that he liked me. Not just as a person, but he was also attracted to me. I guessed I should’ve known with the couple of hints he’d dropped, especially when he was sick, but I’d just assumed he was delirious.
My heart melted, and I wanted to cry because I liked him too. Good God, did I like him.
His fingers trailed from my wrist, intertwining our fingers. “And I’m kind of wondering … if you like me too.”
His intense concern shifted into the sweetest, most vulnerable smile. Something I’d never thought I’d see when I first started here. He’d been so stoic then, but he had been melting these last several weeks. Maybe I hadn’t wanted to see it because it would mean too much. But now, here he was, revealing his emotions and looking at me like a boy and begging me not to break his heart.
I bit my lip, feeling shy all of a sudden.
He exhaled through his nose. “Becky … I’m trying here.”
I stared at our intertwined fingers, feeling a little lost, out of control, out of my depth. We were so different, alike but different.
“I do like you,” I admitted softly because I knew in my gut that what I felt for this man went above the boss-nanny relationship. It went above my physical attraction toward him. I was attracted to him wholly—his personality, his physical appearance, his heart. “But you want to know things that I’ve buried. I’m not about to go digging them up again.” I peered up at him, practically begging him with my eyes. “I just can’t go there.”
Our intense moment was abruptly broken by the sound of the girls’ voices.
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!” the girls sang.
Sarah walked in, carrying a box with the biggest polka-dot bow on the top, and Charles and I took one healthy step away from each other. I took a huge breath to cleanse me from these roller-coaster emotions and put on a brave face for the girls.
Mary charged toward me, practically jumping me in the process. “Happy birthday, Becky! We love you.”
I pulled her higher, wrapping my arms around her waist and kissing her forehead. Tears welled up behind my eyes. I’d never felt so needed, so appreciated, so loved by a whole family.
Sarah hugged me next. “Thanks, Becky. For helping me yesterday with my homework.”
I pulled her against me. Mason, the usual math guru, had been out with his girlfriend yesterday, therefore unavailable to help Sarah. To be honest, I’d had to YouTube some tutorials for fifth-grade math. It wasn’t an easy feat.
As we sat at the table, it felt so surreal that, over the last month, I’d grown so close to this family. Where Patty and Eleanor had always made me feel like family, this felt different—because I was an integral part of the family, even in the very short time that I’d spent here.
It was so big, so important to me. This feeling of belonging.
I leaned against the chair, thinking that this had to be, hands down, the best birthday that I’d ever had. I exhaled a long sigh of contentment. Experiencing this immense joy, I paused, my gaze flickering to Charles.
I liked things how they were, so I had to think about this budding thing happening between Charles and me.
I wasn’t sure I was willing to risk it.
Charles
We were at Pete’s Pizza Palace. Sarah and Mary had suggested it, and when had I ever denied my girls something that was reasonable and within my means? When Mary had asked for a unicorn when she turned three, I couldn’t exactly buy her one. When she cried and cried, Brad had dressed up as one, horn and all. That year, for Halloween, he had worn the unicorn costume out to a party, but the horn was on his penis that time. Classy.
I had reserved us two corner booths, and I was watching my girls play Skee Ball with Becky when Brad strolled in, holding a medium-sized box wrapped in pink.
He slid into the booth, opposite me. “Hey. Sorry I’m late. Where are the girls?”
I tipped my chin toward the other side of the room, wh
ere Becky was roaring with laughter from who knew what. It made me smile to watch her be so happy. I hated that she had such shitty memories as a child, and I hoped we were creating memories of the best birthday for her.
“I can’t believe she wanted to spend her birthday at Pete’s Pizza Palace.” Brad lifted the box he’d brought in, giving it a little shake. “I didn’t know what to get her, so I got her Beats by Dre. You know … so she can block out the noise when the kids are annoying yet still be present.” He tapped a finger against his temple. “Smart, eh?”
I laughed. My brother, ladies and gentlemen.
Leaning in, he asked, “So, how’s it going between you two?”
My eyes found her again, and I sighed with longing. Actual longing. The first time I’d ever felt longing for anyone other than Natalie. “I don’t know. Normal.” I wanted it to be the opposite of normal between us. I raised an eyebrow at him. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed you and Mason spending more time in the city lately.”
He raised both eyebrows in innocence. “It’s only because we feel like you need time to get to know her when we’re not all up in the house.”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter anyway …”
He frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“She’s not letting me in. It’s like she shuts me down every time I try to get to know her a little more.”
He leaned in and his eyebrows pulled together. “What is she hiding from?”
“I don’t know.” It was a lie because from what I had gathered, she was hiding from an ex-boyfriend. A possibly dangerous ex from how tightly she kept a lid on him. I peered back to where she was standing, assisting Mary with the Skee Ball, making her swing higher. “I told her how I feel. And this won’t work if she doesn’t let me in.”
He looked back toward the girls. “Maybe you need to give it some time.”
I nodded. “I’d be okay with that if only I thought time would help our situation.”
We both peered up when Mason strolled in with Janice on his arm. She wore four-inch heels, dark-washed jeans, and a fitted white halter top. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. Swung over her arm was her Hermès bag that Mason had gotten her for her last birthday.
