After drinks and more schmoozing and shaking hands with a dozen different people she was sure she’d never remember, she and Harry finally found themselves back in the limo.
Zoey collapsed back against the seat. “That was exhausting.”
Harry loosened his tie. “Tell me about it. You were amazing though.”
“I about lost it when John Krasinski and Emily Blunt stopped and said hello.”
“John’s a nice guy. We had dinner a few months back. You’d like him.” Harry leaned against the seat but turned himself sideways, so he faced Zoey. “I don’t want to take you home yet.”
Zoey grinned. “I don’t want to go home yet.”
They wound up at a sleepy little basement jazz club they had to walk through an alley and descend a set of stairs to find. Had she been following directions on her own, without Harry to lead her, Zoey would have turned back three steps into the alley. But once they were inside the club, she was glad Harry had known where he was going. The club’s atmosphere was nearly perfect. The place was full, but not crowded, the music just loud enough. Seated in a highbacked round booth in the corner, they could talk comfortably without having to shout over the music, but also without having to worry about anyone overhearing their conversation.
“This place is amazing,” Zoey said.
“I used to come here all the time,” Harry said. “Before the divorce.”
Zoey traced her fingers over the folded napkin that sat on the table in front of her. “Things were different then,” she said, a statement, not a question.
“Yeah. Really different.”
“Were you as involved with the kids as you are now? Before the divorce?”
Harry frowned, his eyes dropping to the table.
Zoey slid a hand under the table and rested it on his knee, giving it a quick squeeze. “Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound like judgment.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “The truth hurts. Honestly, that was probably part of the problem. Samantha didn’t want to be a mom, but maybe if I’d been around more, been more involved . . . I don’t know. Entertainment news was not particularly kind to me during the divorce. Samantha made some pretty public accusations about me being an absentee dad, about her giving up her dreams so I could live mine. A lot of what they said was completely fabricated, but there was enough truth in the reporting to make me realize I had to change. The kids deserved better. And with their mom so completely checked out, I couldn’t afford not to be all in.”
“I love that about you,” Zoey said. “Watching you be a dad? It’s clear the kids are your top priority.”
Harry shook his head. “It hasn’t always been that way.”
“You’re doing a good job, Harry. Single parenting is hard.”
A waiter showed up beside their table and took their drink order, before leaving them to their conversation.
“What about you?” Harry asked. “Do you want a family?”
Nerves skittered through Zoey’s gut. It was a big question. A consequential question. She shrugged, trying to play off her nerves. “Yeah. I mean, I’m not looking to have a baby right now or anything, but, yes. It’s always been a part of the plan.”
Harry leaned forward, surprising her with a quick kiss. She leaned forward when he went to pull away, catching his face with her hand and pulling him back for a second and then a third kiss.
“I sometimes worry that my kids might scare women away,” Harry said, his lips still close.
She kissed him one more time. “Your kids? Have you met your kids? They’re nearly perfect.”
“Yeah, but . . . the instant family. It isn’t what a lot of women dream of.”
Instant family. Funny. Zoey hadn’t thought of it like that. She’d known about Harry’s kids and realized they were a package deal. But she’d never thought of herself as anything other than the nanny. But if things kept up with Harry, that wouldn’t always be the case. She wouldn’t be a nanny. She’d be a mom.
She pushed her fears aside and focused on the man in front of her. “I think you’re worth it, Harry. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
Harry hesitated and another pulse of fear snaked through Zoey’s gut. He was hitting all the hard subjects tonight, wasn’t he? “What about Chicago?” he finally said. “Has that always been a part of your plan?”
Zoey pulled away from Harry and pushed her fists into her lap. The implications of that question felt even bigger. “So I guess we’re going to have this conversation now?” Even as she said the words, she wished she could call them back. She sounded defensive. Why was she defensive?
Harry reached for her hand. “We don’t have to have this conversation now. Not if you don’t want to.”
Zoey kept her eyes down. She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t see the warmth she knew filled his expression. “Harry—” she started, pausing when her voice cracked. Suddenly, her emotions made sense. She wasn’t defensive, just scared. She finally looked up. “We can talk about it.”
“I’m not going to pretend like I don’t want you to stay in California, Zoe. But I see how quickly Ms. Emily is improving. She’s not going to need you much longer, and I guess I’m wondering what that means. Do you want to go back to Chicago?”
It felt like a billion-dollar question.
She did want to go back. She couldn’t just stay in California and be Harry’s nanny. That wasn’t a career; not for her, anyway. She’d been checking her email daily, hoping to hear back from Channel 4 about the anchor position. She wouldn’t be that anxious to receive an answer if she didn’t still want to be there. But she also couldn’t begin to imagine walking away from her relationship with Harry. It was good. So good. Better than any relationship she’d ever had before, and she’d had some pretty good ones.
“I don’t know what I want to do about Chicago,” she said. “But I do know I don’t want to leave you.”
He smiled, but it wasn’t a real one. Not really. It didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “There are news stations in Los Angeles,” he said. “Lots of them.”
There was a boyish hopefulness to his comment that warmed Zoey from the inside out. “That’s true.”
“Though, I suppose there are also homes that need remodeling in Chicago.”
Zoey rolled her eyes. “Nice try. We both know that’s about the most impractical thing you could ever suggest. Your show is here. Your parents. Your house. Your kids’ lives. Your sister and her family. You can’t leave California.”
He sighed. “I know. But I’m crazy enough about you, you might convince me to do it anyway.”
Zoey leaned in and kissed Harry again, her hand reaching up to cradle the back of his head. “Let’s not think about it right now,” she finally whispered. “For now, I’m not going anywhere.” It was a cop-out answer and she knew it. But what else was she supposed to say? She couldn’t tell him how she felt about Chicago because she didn’t actually know. It felt like she was living in a parallel universe. This was her California life. Her living with Nana, dating Harrison Beckford, hanging out with two amazing kids life. But her Chicago life still existed. Her news anchor life. Her independent career woman life. The problem was that no matter the mental gymnastics she tried to perform, she couldn’t seem to make the two lives intertwine. It was like they existed on completely different planes. She just couldn’t explain all that to Harry. Especially not tonight.
Harry pulled back, catching her eye. He held her gaze a long moment, his expression radiating sincerity and warmth. “I’m falling in love with you, Zoey,” he said, his tone gentle.
Zoey closed her eyes, chills racing up her spine and out to every fingertip. She had imagined what hearing those words would feel like. She was falling for him, too. She knew she was. But the thought of admitting as much made fear grip her midsection, constricting her lungs until she worried she might stop breathing. To say the words back felt big. Consequential. Only made worse by the pulsing neon sign in the back of her b
rain that said Chicago, Chicago, Chicago.
Since she couldn’t answer Harry with words, she leaned forward and answered him with another kiss. She didn’t hold back, willing all of the words she was too afraid to say into the gesture. She tilted her head and parted her lips, deepening the kiss. Harry pulled her closer, accepting her, welcoming her. Somehow, he grounded her and lifted her into the atmosphere all at the same time. She felt safe, anchored, like she was exactly where she needed to be, but also felt as though she could fly around the room with the energy coursing through her. It was intoxicating.
She wasn’t able to give Harry the reassurance he wanted. Not yet. Hopefully for now, that kiss would be enough.
Harry dropped Zoey off just after two in the morning. She sank onto the couch in Nana’s living room, wishing it wasn’t so late. She needed wisdom. Answers. Clarity. But then, even if it wasn’t a ridiculous time of night, she didn’t know who she would call.
Earlier that night, she’d ignored a text from her mother. ZOEY WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME CALL ME IMMEDIATELY.
For her mother to leave out punctuation of her texts was very telling. She’d probably been on the phone all evening with her sisters and cousins and neighbors and old high school friends and anyone else she could think to tell. Before long, she’d be researching wedding dress boutiques in Southern California and pricing out designer invitations. She probably already had three different “mother of the bride” dresses in her online Stein Mart cart. No, she couldn’t call her mother. Hers was not the advice Zoey needed.
Nana was usually the voice of reason in Zoey’s life, but in this instance, she wouldn’t be much better than Mom. Besides, Nana loved Harry. She’d never be able to filter out how much and how long she’d cared about him to give Zoey unbiased advice.
Zoey didn’t even have a friend she felt like she could call. She was running kind of low in that category as of late; her crazy work schedule had all but ruined the few friendships that had survived grad school. Morning news anchors got up when most people were going to bed which meant she’d mostly slept through Chicago’s active night life the past few years. The people she had hung out with in Chicago had all been coworkers. A few of them would be willing to listen, Veronica would for sure, and would try to offer advice, but they didn’t know her well enough to know what she needed.
Ashley from the park had offered to listen, but she knew Zoey least of all.
A wave of loneliness pulsed over Zoey, and oddly made her wish she could curl up in Harry’s arms and forget about everything. But that was the least practical impulse of all. She’d never make a reasonable decision about what to do about Harry if Harry himself was in the room.
Her heart said she wanted him. But it couldn’t be that simple, could it?
“Hey.”
Zoey looked up to find Cassandra leaning against the kitchen door jamb. “Hey. I didn’t think you were awake.”
“I was just having some tea. Emily woke up with a pretty bad headache and it took a while for her to settle back to sleep.”
Zoey tensed. “Is she okay? What caused the headache?”
“Calm down,” Cassandra said. “It’s nothing to worry about. Everybody gets a headache every once in a while. You look like you could use some tea. Want to join me?”
Zoey nodded and stood up, dropping her heels onto the couch before following Cassandra into the kitchen.
“How was the night?” Cassandra asked.
Zoey pulled up the skirt of her dress and sank into a kitchen chair. “Amazing. Magical. I met Jim from The Office.”
“Fun. But I’m guessing that isn’t what made the night magical.” Cassandra set a mug of tea in front of Zoey then nudged the honey toward her. “What was it like to be on the arm of the Harrison Beckford?”
Zoey smiled. “He’s pretty spectacular.”
Cassandra’s eyes narrowed. “And yet, you were still sitting there staring at your phone like someone just called to say your dog died. Why don’t I believe you had a good time?”
“That’s not it. I had an amazing time. It’s just . . . I don’t know if I can even explain it.”
“Try me,” Cassandra said.
Zoey heaved a sigh. “I felt myself . . . getting swept up, you know? It was intoxicating. The attention. The glamour. Having this incredibly gorgeous man that America is in love with put his arm around me. It made me feel important and . . . special, I guess.”
“That hardly sounds like something to complain about,” Cassandra said.
“No, I know. I’m not complaining. But it also made me miss my job.”
Cassandra’s brows furrowed. “How do you mean?”
“Tonight I was important because I was Harry’s date. But when I’m working I’m important because I’m me. Because I have something to offer. I guess there’s a part of me that’s afraid that if I date someone whose life is as big as his, my life might . . . disappear.”
It was the first time Zoey had actually voiced the fear out loud, but the truth of it resonated in her gut in a profound way.
“That’s not how he sees you though, is it?” Cassandra asked. “I’ve been around enough to see the way he looks at you. It isn’t like you’re an ornament on his arm.”
“I know. He’s never made me feel that way. He even had his publicist make sure that if people try to find out who I am, the information they’ll find will include stuff about my career. But if we’re going to be together, I’m going to have to move to California. That feels like a really big deal. I don’t know if I’m ready for it. And I think I’m maybe afraid that all the glitz and glamour and money will influence me without me realizing it’s happening. But that shouldn’t be what the relationship is about.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Cassandra said. “You’ve been on one glamorous date with the man. Most of the time, you’re hanging out with his kids, or your grandma. There’s nothing glamorous about that.”
“I know. But there’s still a polish to his life. Money does that. The house is perfect. The kids have closets full of adorable clothes and matching shoes and monogrammed towels. The cars all have leather interiors. There’s someone to clean the house and someone else to mow the lawn. And someone to watch the children, which, admittedly is a little weird since I’m the someone. But you know what I mean? It feels special being a part of a life like that.”
“But Zoey, Harrison didn’t grow up with all those things, did he? I’ve heard Emily talk about his humble beginnings. A man can have things without being defined by those things.”
“That’s true,” Zoey said. “But it still doesn’t fix the whole ‘my life is in Chicago’ problem.”
“How do you feel about him?” Cassandra asked. “If you set all that other stuff aside. The stuff about your career and his career and his money. When you just think about the man, what do you feel?”
That was a question that hardly required any thought at all. “I think I might love him,” Zoey said softly. “Is that crazy?”
“It’s not crazy,” Cassandra said. “And that’s the feeling you need to trust the most. Everything else will work itself out in time.”
Chapter 12
Harry was still in bed on Monday morning when he heard Zoey let herself in the front door. The patter of little feet running across the floor quickly followed, then the sound of Oliver’s sleepy morning voice.
“Zoey,” Oliver said.
“Hey, Ollie,” Harry heard Zoey say. “Are you the only one up?”
She sounded as tired as Harry felt. He should have told her to take the morning off. He’d barely managed four hours of sleep himself. She couldn’t have gotten much more than that. He glanced at his phone. Maybe it wasn’t too late. He could text Charlotte and see if the kids could hang with her for a couple of hours—at least long enough for Zoey to take a nap.
He had to be on site for a pre-renovation walkthrough by ten. There wasn’t anything he could do about his own exhaustion, but there was no reason for Zoey to be miserable
as well. Before he could finish tapping out a text to his sister, Charlotte texted him.
MORNING SICKNESS SUCKS. Please send help. And ginger ale.
Harry frowned. Guess he probably shouldn’t ask her to watch his kids for a few hours. He keyed out a response. So sorry. I’m filming today. I’ll send ginger ale though. Need anything else?
He could probably have Jason swing by and drop a few things off, though Charlotte would probably hate having him just show up. Grocery delivery, maybe?
Brian out of town again? he texted. Charlotte’s husband was unfailingly supportive, but he traveled for work quite a bit. Charlotte always texted her brother more when her husband was gone.
Just ‘til tomorrow, she responded. Ginger ale and Goldfish. And beef flavored ramen. And chicken nuggets for the kids.
Got it, Harry texted back. I’ll have some things sent over.
He quickly keyed out a text to Jason, asking him to get the groceries ordered and delivered. Technically, Charlotte could have ordered the groceries herself; there were delivery services everywhere. But he suspected she mostly just needed someone to care. After sending Jason the list, padded with a few additional things he thought Charlotte’s kids might like, he ordered her a blueberry smoothie from the smoothie place closest to her house and paid a little extra for it to be delivered ASAP. Charlotte may think all she needed was ramen and ginger ale, but she’d probably benefit from something nutritious.
He was sitting on the edge of his bed, just finishing up the order when Oliver blasted into his bedroom and launched himself onto Harry’s lap.
“Daddy awake!” Oliver said. His voice had lost the sleepy tone of a few minutes before and was full of energy and enthusiasm. If only it were that easy for adults.
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