by Nikki Larson
Compassion rose up in her, because he suddenly seemed like a vulnerable old man rather than a burly, rough one. “Sure,” she agreed. “I’ll do that.” And with that knee-jerk promise, she hurried through the doorway and back to the children’s rooms to look in on them while they were sleeping before she headed home.
Chapter 7
“So, how are things going? You getting used to the kids?” She’d worked here for over a month now, and it was time Lucas checked in with her and got back to Grunt concerning her performance and her level of contentment at her job.
Thea sat across from him on a cushioned patio chair, looking nervous, if his intuition was correct. She wore a silky blouse with a ruffled V-neckline, which made her look like the delicate flower he was beginning to think she was. Funny how his original impression of her was so off-base. He’d thought at first that she was an overly confident, maybe even arrogant, beautiful woman. But the more he got to know her, the more he realized her confidence was just a guise.
She blinked before answering, and he thought he saw her eyes glisten with tears but he couldn’t be sure. It was evening and the sun was just beginning to set, and the fluorescent deck lights glowed pink and green, so it could just be that.
“Good,” she said, hesitantly. “I’m enjoying my position here very much, thank you. And the children are giving me a lot of love.”
“They are, are they?” Something was off, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He hadn’t known her long enough to read her, and, in truth, he wasn’t that good at reading women anyway. They were like a mystery that took far too much effort to unravel. “Mr. Hunt is not being too much of a bother, with his constant jabs and his odd sense of humor?”
“No,” Thea shook her head and seemed like she was thinking deeply. But she wasn’t saying much.
“You’re learning about the kids and how to work with their strengths and weaknesses?” Lucas asked her.
“Yes, I believe so,” she replied.
She was being so vague, so distant, and it was really starting to bother him. And still her eyes were glistening. He couldn’t wait another second to get to the bottom of it. “Look, Thea,” he said, turning to face her. “You can be honest with me.” He gave her the sincerest expression he could muster. “If something is bothering you, you can tell me.”
He saw her swallow hard, and when she spoke, her voice squeaked. “I appreciate that; thank you,” she said, and then she looked away.
He turned to see what she was looking at. The ocean waters, lapping in the twilight, seemed to go on forever, and the setting sun made the waves glow with a golden shimmer. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” she agreed as she twisted a strand of her hair tightly around her finger.
They were sitting on the upper deck, at the pool. The hot tub was mere feet from them, and he had a sudden urge to jump in and draw her in with him, make her laugh, lighten the mood.
Fighting to erase that ridiculous picture out of his head, he stood and paced the deck. “Thea,” he said measuredly, “I am quite pleased with the job you’ve been doing with the children, and my…,” he paused to provide the proper word, “… father as well. I know you probably didn’t expect to be watching over both four small children and an elderly, often cantankerous, man. I hope it is not proving to be too much for you.”
“It’s fine,” she said quietly, and the hoarseness in her voice was unmistakable.
Was that a tear he saw trickling down her cheek?
He threw his hands up in exasperation. “What are you crying about then?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, sniffling. “It’s not you. It’s not the job.” She bit her bottom lip as a dark cloud of sorrow came over her face.
“What is it, then?” he asked.
But she only blinked at him and remained silent.
Though he willed it not to, his heart went out to her. It was important to maintain a professional distance, since he was her boss and she was his employee. He stood in front of her, stoic, with his hands at his hips. Like a superhero, commanding attention. “I don’t suppose you would like to share with me exactly what is bothering you.” It was a statement, posed as a question.
“No,” she said in a whisper. “Can we talk about the kids?”
“Sure, let’s talk about the kids,” he said, taking a seat next to her once again. “They’re a handful, aren’t they?” He could have kicked himself for saying it.
Way to lose a nanny.
Tell her the kids are monsters….
“They’re delightful,” she said, surprising him. “And, at times, despicable. Like all children. Well, at times, perhaps, these are a bit more… unrefined than most. They did decorate the kitchen with white flour the other morning, but I had them clean it up. Their shenanigans are nothing I can’t handle. I enjoy a challenge.” She looked at him pointedly, and he found himself unsettled by her gaze.
“Oh, you do, do you?” he countered.
Was he reading more into this than she intended? Or was she, indeed, coming onto him? He cleared his throat and sat back down. “So, what are your strategies?” He sat facing her, studying her.
He could have sworn he saw her smirk–just for a split second, and then it was gone.
“My strategies are,” she said, sitting up straight in her chair and leaning towards him, “to not let them get the upper hand, to keep them on their toes, but to always treat them with the utmost respect and let love flow through.”
Lucas blinked at her response, trying to separate the possible double entendre from her childcare methods.
“I see,” he said noncommittally. He hated that his voice had grown husky and his mind so self-aware. His palms were beginning to sweat, and he wiped them on his pants. “Thea,” he said, “please tell me what is going on in your life that upset you so much. I care. I want to know.” He knew full well he was crossing the line, that blurry line between professionalism and friendship.
She sighed. “Okay, Lucas,” she said, shifting in her seat. “May I call you Lucas?” She lifted her eyes to his, then held up a finger as if she suddenly remembered. “Oh yes, you said to call you Luke. But I like Lucas better, somehow.” She reached out and playfully tapped his knee and gave him a smile. “It’s a long story, but let’s just say my weekend did not go as planned.”
“Care to explain?” he prompted her. He appreciated that she was trying to make light of the situation, whatever it was. It was brave of her, and kind, to try to put him at ease when she was obviously hurting so much. “I mean, you’re being a bit vague, here, if you don’t mind me saying.”
Even though he was being more than patient, more than kind, he had to wait quite a while before she took a deep breath, looked him in the eyes, and revealed her secret: “Flynn left me at the altar.”
Lucas just about choked on his response. “When?” he asked, giving her his full attention.
“Over the weekend, I told you,” she said almost haughtily. “On Saturday.”
“As in, this past Saturday?” he asked, incredulous. “As in, two days ago?”
“Yes, you’d think I’d be over it by now, huh?” She gave him a half-hearted smirk.
“No, not at all,” he said. He knew she was kidding, but he wanted to make it clear that if she wasn’t kidding–if she were at all serious–there was no reason on earth she should be over something that drastic in just two days. It just wasn’t possible. He, of all people, should know that.
“Oh, why am I telling you this?” she lamented as she got to her feet and wiped her eyes. “You’re my boss, not my shrink.”
“I’ll be your shrink if you’d like,” he offered.
Chapter 8
Thea kept revisiting her heart-to-heart with Lucas the night before, when she’d stayed after her shift once again to talk with him. Her thoughts were distracting her from her work.
“Miss Thea,” Gwenna whined impatiently. “You’re not listening. I’m trying to tell you,
” she said, pulling on Thea’s dress, “Hutch needs you.” She pointed urgently in the direction of her baby brother, who was stuck in a toy riding car.
He had slid down from the driver’s seat onto the smooth, slippery floor and couldn’t right himself. His chin was level with the steering wheel, which would have been quite the comical sight if it hadn’t been so pitiful. “I’m ‘tuck; I’m ‘tuck,” he repeated, panic rising in his voice.
“Oh, Hutch, just a moment, I’m coming,” Thea reassured him. She grabbed ahold of his hands and pulled him back to his seat. “You okay, buddy?”
“Yeah,” he said bravely, but his eyes were still wild with worry.
Thea hid her smile from him the best she could but, once he was safe, she turned to Gwenna, who, like Thea, was unable to disguise her grin. “That was a little bit funny, wasn’t it?”
Gwenna placed a hand over her mouth and let out a little titter as her eyes crinkled with amusement. “That was funny,” she agreed. “Poor little Hutch, though,” she said, always one to be compassionate with her siblings. She squatted down to his level and reached into the car, patting his shoulder to comfort him. “You okay, buddy?”
Putting on a brave face, he nodded his agreement and resumed steering and scooting along in the car.
When Thea saw that the three oldest children were settled and busy at the Lego table, her thoughts turned once again to her boss. He wasn’t the stuffy, pompous man she’d made him out to be. No, he had empathy and kindness beneath his stiff exterior.
Which was disappointing, because she’d wanted to hate him, and now, equipped with the knowledge that he had a heart, she’d have a hard time maintaining her poor opinion of him. God told her not to do that anyway.
And she couldn’t refer to him as Lucow anymore, not even in her thoughts.
It wasn’t right.
He was Lucas.
Lucas Flaire, gentleman extraordinaire.
Billionaire.
So many rhyming words.
Thea let out a little laugh and wondered if he even realized his last name rhymed with billionaire.
She doubted it.
And she wouldn’t be the one to tell him either.
“What?” Gwenna asked. “Oh, you’re still laughing about poor little Hutchy?”
She looked at Thea quizzically. “I get it,” she declared, nodding knowingly before she resumed building her Lego house.
“I guess you could say that,” Thea replied offhandedly. It wouldn’t be wise to explain it all. It was none of Gwenna’s business anyway. She was a child, not a confidante, Thea reminded herself. But she hated to lie…
And now, inevitably, Thea’s thoughts turned to Flynn. Tall, wiry, charismatic, self-confident Flynn Reese. How could he do that to her?
They’d been so good together, so right for each other–or so she had thought.
Now she dared not trust her own judgment anymore.
She knew what it was that made him leave. She knew, but still she did not fully understand. How could she? It was incomprehensible, to tell someone you love them, to propose, to plan to marry them, to actually show up for the wedding, and then just… disappear. She should have known it was coming. She should always trust her intuition.
Although look how wrong it had been just two days ago, and apparently all the days of their relationship prior.
It was all so confusing.
“No, Hutch, no,” she said firmly, having just seen Hutch put a Lego in his mouth. “You’re going to choke on that.” She wiggled her finger in his wet mouth to retrieve the sharp, bright green toy.
Hutch responded with a few fake coughs, making all the kids laugh.
As soon as Thea had raised her voice, their eyes were on him, dutiful older siblings that they were. There was so much love among the four of them, Thea noticed with pride. Not that she really had all that much to do with it. They were good to each other before she came onto the scene, she suspected. Perhaps she was instrumental in helping their love for each other blossom even more, but she couldn’t be sure. She could only hope she was having a good influence on them.
Faith, hope, and love.
These things remain.
And these were her goal, in any nanny job, in any situation in life.
She had to remind herself of this, of her purpose, and not lose sight of it despite the hurt and heartbreak Flynn had inflicted upon her. She could be Little Miss Sunshine, in spite of everything. She could rise above all the hurt and the heartache. She could, and she would, God willing.
Chapter 9
He was second-guessing himself. How would this look to her? He’d meant it to be a business meeting, but his heart was telling him that it was a lie. The truth was, he wanted to get to know her, off the yacht. He wanted it to be just the two of them, without the intrusion of Grunt and the kids. It took some finagling, too, to get one of his buddies to stay aboard the yacht tonight in case anything happened–if one of the kids woke up and wandered out of bed, for instance. He promised his bodyguard friend, Gavin, a wood-fired pizza and a case of beer for this favor. Lucas chuckled at the thought. But a guy’s got to do what a guy’s got to do, right?
He watched her walk in the door. And tried not to let his jaw drop in awe. She was stunning, as always. But tonight, she had an air of professionalism about her, unlike her persona on the yacht. With every smooth step, she held her chin high and surveyed her surroundings with dignity and poise.
He tried not to stare, but he figured he was hidden well enough, seated as he was at a corner behind a large plant. He felt like a voyeur, and it was making him sweat.
She was wearing a dark green blouse which complemented her skin tone and the tawny color of her hair. Her beige dress pants hugged her curves and she walked effortlessly, it seemed, in her golden pumps.
Lucas commanded himself not to gawk. Pushing past his boyish nervousness, he stood to greet her and wave her over. “Welcome, Miss Thea Chambers,” he said with what he hoped came across as an air of dignity. He was pleased with himself, sounding so masculine and businesslike. If he could stick to the program, he’d be just fine.
“Hi, Lucow. Lucas, I mean,” she corrected herself, flashing him a playful smile.
“Don’t call me that; I told you,” he warned her, only half-sternly. He didn’t want to alienate her altogether, but she needed to know who was boss.
She’d revealed the unflattering moniker for him one night when she was overtired and giddy. His mother always told him women are most vulnerable when they are tired. They will divulge secrets, both flattering and unflattering. He’d found it to be true.
“I apologize,” she said, shaking his hand. “Really.” Her overly sweet apology and the coy tilt of her head belied the firmness and formality of her handshake.
“No problem,” he said, as if the awful nickname she had for him didn’t bother him. He rolled his shoulders, trying to let the insult roll off his back. “Have a seat.” He gestured to the chair across from his. This way he could see her, relate to her better, eye-to-eye. And, sitting with his back to the wall, he could look out over the crowd more easily, and people-watch. Also, he felt less confined this way. The long hours on the yacht were getting to him, making him feel rather trapped. After all, they’d been docked for months now. He was itching to get moving. That, and he had to get the kids away from Aunt Galina. She was becoming more and more insistent that they go and live with her. It was best to escape for a while, to keep them safe, and away from her prying eyes.
“A table in the corner,” Thea noted as she took a seat. “For some special occasion, perhaps?”
“None,” he said with a shake of his head and what he hoped was an endearing grin, to match hers. “Except it is nice to get off the yacht every once in a while,” he replied. “The yacht is nice and all…,” he said with his characteristic shrug. “It’s extravagant, so of course it’s nice,” he said with a chuckle, “but sometimes I want to get out and experience something different, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, blinking. “I guess so.”
Suddenly things were so awkward between them. It had to be his fault, being nervous and all. He could have kicked himself for that. He’d have to tone it down, relax.
“Thank you for coming to this business meeting,” he said, fiddling absentmindedly with the menu. He’d have to make it quite clear his intentions for this evening, so she’d be comfortable and not get the wrong idea. He wanted to put her at ease. “I appreciate you coming during off-hours to accommodate my request. It’s just so much easier than worrying we might be interrupted by one of the children, or eccentric old Grunt. And you will be handsomely accommodated for your time.”
“I already am,” she replied. “Handsomely.”
He stammered at the obvious reference to his looks, and wished she wouldn’t smile at him like that. “Yes, okay, well…,” he replied, clearing his throat. “You sure know how to make a man uncomfortable, don’t you?”
“I’m sorry?” She said it as a statement and a question, all in one, and blinked profusely.
Why she looked so shocked he had no idea. Surely, she knew exactly what she was doing, flirting with him like that.
Then again, maybe he misread her.
Women.
They could be fine one day and psychotic the next.
What was up with her anyway?
He quickly changed the subject, talking about the weather and how it was nearly perfect here in Bonita Mesa, about what a desirable place it was to live, about the old man Grunt and how he was always butting in on their conversations, about silly anecdotes about the kids–the funny things they said and did. Anything to put her at ease and make her forget he thought she was coming on to him.
“Hey, I have a request to make of you,” he said as casually as he could manage once their dinners had arrived.
