Protecting Her Heart: A Lesbian Billionaire And Her Nanny Romance
Page 3
I whirl back around, and Rachel looks startled. “How much?” I ask her.
Rachel looks confused. “What do you mean, how much?”
“How much do you want? For a reward? For saving Ana?”
I spell it out as clearly as I can, but the woman still looks confused. I don’t have time to stand here all day.
“I’m going to give you money. How much do you want?”
I wince at the abruptness of my words. It comes out far harsher than I intended but at last the realization dawns on her face.
It’s my turn to be confused when the confusion on Rachel’s face turns into anger.
“Excuse me? How much money do you want? Are you serious?”
I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong. I open my mouth to say something, but she cuts across me.
“I don’t want your money, thank you very much. I did exactly what any other remotely decent person would do. Now, perhaps you should take your daughter home.”
She turns and walks away, and I feel worse than I ought to at her cold tone. I’m not used to saying the wrong things and having people be mad at me. Or people turning my offers down.
I look down at Ana, who looks sad now that Rachel has left us. I jiggle her slightly in my arms until she smiles again, and take her out of the bookstore.
I try not to think about how attractive Rachel is when she’s angry.
Seven
Rachel
I stomp around in the back room for a while in an angry sulk. How dare that bitch imply that I only saved that precious little girl so that I could grab money from her mother?
Cody comes to check up on me and I ask her to shut the shop down for today. It’s a bad move and we need all the patrons we can get, but I don’t think I can deal with anything else for a while. I’m so tired and strung out.
When Cody reappears, she doesn’t take my pleading to be left alone for an answer. She drags me out into the shop front and tears threaten to fall from my eyes when I see what the girls have done. They’ve closed the shop and created a pillow fort in the children’s section, with steaming mugs of hot chocolate just waiting for us.
“Thanks girls,” I whisper as Cody guides me to sit down next to Abbie.
Abbie hugs me gently and Candy hands me a mug. Jess heads over to us and sits down on Cody’s other side, brandishing takeout menus.
“We’ll have a nice, quiet evening and eat a whole mountain of food. And then tomorrow is a new day.”
“Yeah, hopefully with no kidnappings!” Abbie chimes in, and despite myself I manage a small smile.
“You were all really great today guys. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I say, swallowing hard as I look around at the little bookstore family.
We’re all so close, even the girls who aren’t here right now. I always try so hard for them, and I know just how hard they work for me too.
“You know, we wouldn’t be here without you either.” Cody says quietly. The other girls nod vigorously, and Cody takes a sip of hot chocolate before continuing.
“Well you know I haven’t had a home since I got kicked out and it’s hard sometimes, just living on people’s couches and never having any space of my own. It’s such a huge relief every day when I get to come in here and do something I love, with awesome people. And I’ve almost got enough to rent my own place!”
Candy squeezes her hand before taking up the buck. “Yeah and I’ve had to pay the rent all alone since my roommate upped and left without a word. I’m trying to find someone to take over the lease but it’s not easy finding someone who wants to share a tiny flat in a dodgy neighborhood, especially when you throw a baby into the mix. I’d be so screwed without this job.”
Abbie and Jess hasten to add their own reassurances at how much the bookstore means to them, how much they rely on it. How much they rely on me.
They’re trying to be supportive, and I appreciate it all, but I’m feeling the pressure even more now. All these girls are relying on me in order to provide for themselves, and their families, and I’ve just gone and thrown money away because I was offended.
How could I have been so stupid?
I excuse myself, smiling in what I hope is a reassuring way in response to their looks of concern, and head to the office. I’m freaking out and have to take a few deep breaths to steady myself. I’m tempted to crumble under the immense responsibilities I’ve taken on, but I know what I’m going to have to do.
It doesn’t mean I like it.
I scroll through the registration details for the kids who come to story time until I reach Ana’s name, and find the emergency number her nanny gave when they first started coming to the readings. I dial the number, crossing my fingers and hoping that it will be Tiffany who picks up.
“Tiffany Wake. I’m afraid I’m rather busy right now. I can call you back or if it’s business related, call my business line and you can arrange a meeting or call back with my assistant.”
“Tiffany. Wait. It’s Rachel, from the bookstore.”
I pause awkwardly, and there a silence that forces me to expand further. “You know, we met earlier. The whole thing with Ana…” I trail off, unsure how to continue.
“Yes, Rachel, of course I remember you. Forgive me, I wasn’t expecting your call.” Tiffany makes a much smoother recovery than I would, and I swallow hard as I try to forget how icy and beautiful she is.
“No that’s okay. I wasn’t expecting to call.” I laugh self-consciously and am glad when she joins in too.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry, Tiffany. I’m sorry I got angry and turned down your really very generous offer.”
“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry I gave you the impression that I thought you were only after cash, and I really am so grateful for what you’ve done for us.”
We both laugh awkwardly again. The silence is too much to bear, but she breaks it before I can.
“You know, the offer still stands. If you want it.” Her offer is tentative this time, and I can’t help but smile.
“I… I’d rather not be paid for doing the decent thing and saving a child.” Even as I say it, I groan inwardly. I need the money, so why can’t I just accept it? What was even the point of this call?
“How about a different kind of deal?” Tiffany says suddenly.
“What do you mean?” I reply, curious now.
“Instead of me just giving you money, how about you work for me instead? Listen, that nanny was useless and it’s proving harder than I thought to find a new one. I just need someone to take care of Ana for me when I’m at my meetings and trying to organize this damn conference.”
My silence must seem reluctant, because Tiffany plows on.
“I’ll pay you of course. But I’ll also give you your extension, the one you asked me about for your bookstore this morning. The six months you need.”
I don’t need to be asked twice.
“I’d love to. When can I start?”
I hang up the phone and suddenly feel so much lighter. This could be the answer to my prayers.
It’s just an extra bonus that I get to hang out with Ana… and Tiffany.
Eight
Tiffany
I awake the next morning feeling unrushed, for a change. There’s no need to hurry this morning. I have the morning free in order to introduce Rachel to Anastasia’s schedule.
Rolling over, I’m surprised by the wave of anticipation that courses through me. I’m actually feeling eager to see Rachel this morning. There’s something about the sultry bookstore owner that won’t let my attention go.
“Mommy, mommy!” Anastasia shouts, as she races into my room and launches herself on the bed. The mattress jostles, as she scrambles under the comforter and cuddles up next to me.
“Good morning, sweet girl.” I smile down at her, wrapping my arms around her slight frame.
“I’m so happy you’re here this morning, Mama. We should have a special breakfast to celebrate,” she sque
als with delight.
“What kind of special breakfast would you like?” I ask her, noticing the time on my nightstand clock. There’s still a little over an hour before Rachel should be here.
“I want waffles with strawberries and whipped cream on them.” Her dark eyes are big and round with anticipation and excitement.
“That sounds delicious. Let me get dressed and then we’ll get started.” I scoot her out of the bed and she runs out the door and down the hall towards the kitchen.
By the time I’m dressed for the day and make it to the kitchen, Anastasia already put strawberries and whipped cream on the counter. She’s pulling the eggs and milk from the fridge as I come round the corner.
“Looks like you just about have everything ready. Maybe you don’t need my help.” I pat the top of her head.
“Oh, mama, you’re silly. I’m too little to use the hot waffle iron.” She makes an exaggerated eye roll, as if, of course, I should already know that.
Together, we mix the batter and I let her plug in the iron. I let her help me cut the strawberries with a small knife, making sure she keeps the sharp end away from her fingers and doesn’t point it towards herself.
As we work, she proceeds to give me, in excruciating detail, an account of every single tiny thing she’s done so far this morning. Even though I’ve been here the entire time, there’s some part of her that is desperate to make sure I know what’s going on in her life.
I’m worried that maybe the attempted kidnapping is weighing on her psyche more than I initially thought. Maybe the fact that I’ve been spending the majority of my days at work and not home with her, has her missing me more than I imagined.
Of course, I need to work, but maybe it would be possible to spend less time at the office and more time at home with Anastasia. It worries me that she feels so insecure. I make a silent promise that once the big conference is over, I’ll try to spend more hours at home.
We’re just finishing up our breakfast, and I’m standing from the table to take the dishes to the sink when the doorbell chimes.
“Is that Rachel?” Anastasia squeals ecstatically, jumping down from her seat, her legs already at full speed before her feet even hit the ground. I’ve never seen her this excited about a nanny before.
“Do not open the door until I get there,” I holler after her.
Her small body is vibrating as she bounces on her toes, waiting for me to unlatch the deadbolt. When the door finally opens, she screams Rachel’s name and hurtles herself into the surprised arms of the woman standing on the front porch.
It’s been a long time since Anastasia has felt so comfortable with someone. I’m touched that Rachel’s presence has such a positive impact on her. The impact it has on me, however, is a little more unsettling.
Rachel looks even more gorgeous than the last time I saw her. She wears dark jeans that hug the curve of her ass in the most delicious way. The blouse she has on is a dark eggplant color that accentuates the fullness of her breasts.
Her mahogany tresses frame her face in thick subtle waves, and my fingers twitch with the need to get tangle among the strands. Her lips are painted the same color as her top and I have the sudden desire to press my own to them, eager to find out if they taste as sweet as they look.
My body heats up and I have to swallow down the desire in my throat before I say her name. “Rachel, it’s nice to see you again.”
Her eyes meet mine, and for a brief moment, I see my own feelings mirrored in them. “Thank you. It’s nice to see you, too.”
“What about me? Is it nice to see me, too?” Anastasia asks.
“It is so very nice to see you. The highlight of my entire day.” Rachel says enthusiastically, giving Anastasia a quick tickle. She laughs hysterically and wiggles around before Rachel sets her back down and she runs into the house.
“Come on in.” I say.
I give Rachel a tour of the house, showing her where all the rooms are and important medications, first aid kit, along with Anastasia’s favorite books and stuffed animals. Once she has the layout, we sit at the table and I explain to her the details of Anastasia’s daily routine.
By the time we’re finished, it’s nearly noon. “I really should be going,” I say, standing from the table. “I have meetings this afternoon.”
Anastasia, who had been coloring quietly up until now, bursts into wildly overdramatic tears. “No, mama, don’t leave! I’m too scared from yesterday for you to go to work today!” She inhales shakily, as huge tears streak down her round cheeks.
My gaze darts from my daughters’ tear-filled eyes to Rachel’s face which is etched with concern. My shoulders sag. This isn’t a battle I’m going to win.
For the first time ever, I call into work and have Jordan postpone all my meetings. “Why don’t we go get some lunch?” I say. Anastasia sniffs, wiping her eyes with her fingers, before she grabs mine and Rachel’s hands and leads us to the door.
Nine
Rachel
I’m still mad at Tiffany for her behavior regarding paying off the debt and her callousness at offering me money for saving Ana. Watching her interactions with her daughter, however, are making it increasingly difficult to keep my mind wrapped around that anger.
Tiffany is actually kind of sweet, which surprises me, to say the least. It’s so blatantly clear that she only wants what’s best for Ana, and my heart melts just a little towards her.
The car ride to the restaurant is uneventful. Ana chatters away as Tiffany drives. The conversation between them is simple, with Ana asking about Tiffany’s work and new projects that are coming up.
It’s surprising to see that Tiffany speaks to Ana, not only with deep affection, but as if she’s an actual human being, capable of learning and understanding. I’ve noticed at the bookstore that so many parents speak to their children in such a ridiculously condescending way, as if they’re too young to merit any real respect.
That’s always been something that irks me beyond belief. I find that I’m glad Tiffany isn’t one of those parents. Kids are people, too. They deserve to be treated as such.
Before I know it, we’re pulling into a small Italian restaurant near the town square. Tiffany helps Ana out of the car and the young girl immediately latches on to both Tiffany’s and my hands, pulling us towards the door.
“Come on, Rachel. This place is the best,” she says cheerfully.
“I hope you like Italian. This is Ana’s favorite restaurant, and with how upset she was earlier, I thought this would be best.” There’s genuine concern in Tiffany’s voice, as if she really wants me to enjoy it here, as well.
“Italian is fine,” I reply, unsure what her angle is. I don’t want to believe that she’s really interested in my opinion. Then, I might have to change my mind about her completely, and I’m not ready to do that just yet.
As we walk through the door, we’re greeted by two Italian women. They’re older ladies, the lines on their faces telling the tale of the long lives they’ve lived. They share the same gray head of hair and perceptive eyes. From the way they talk, I’m sure they must be sisters.
Their eyes light up when they see Ana walk through the door. There accents are thick as they each hug her and take her face in hand, kissing both of her round cheeks. They repeat the same movements with Tiffany, and when they see me, they’re eyes dart from Tiffany’s face and back to mine several times.
“This is Rachel,” Tiffany says, waving her hand between the women and myself. “Rachel, this is Francesca and Luciana.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, holding out my hand.
They both look at my hand as if they’ve never seen one before. Sharing the kind of look that holds an entire conversation, they hold each other’s gazes for a moment before turning beaming faces towards me.
“It is so very nice to meet you,” Francesca says as she wraps her arms tightly around me. She kisses both my cheeks before relinquishing me to Luciana who does the same.
> They usher us to a booth in the back corner and before I even have time to blink, they’re piling the table full of rich smelling breads and creamy pastas. My mouth waters as the delicious aroma wafts to my nose.
The conversation is easy and relaxed, the atmosphere friendly and comfortable. Ana is too busy stuffing her face to do much else, but as Tiffany and I sit across from each other, I find myself opening up to her more than I would have expected possible.
“I was just barely a teenager when my dad died, and I went to live with my aunt,” I say solemnly.
I tell her how my aunt raised me, all through my teenage years. Which, quite possibly, makes her the biggest saint in the world. Teenagers are hard enough to deal with, but add grief and a world turned upside down… I’m amazed that either of us survived.
Even after moving away to college, she was always the one I came home to. She was more of a mother to me than my own birth mother had been. I don’t know why I tell her all this, but when I finish, she shares something about herself in return.
She explains to me about her life at Harvard. You’d think she had a life of privilege there, but being a woman, and a lesbian as well, meant that she had to work even harder to prove herself to every male classmate, every male professor, even to her own family.
“Looking back at it now, I can’t believe I put so much effort into being able to beat everyone at beer pong and pool, just to make a point. After I took all their money, they had no other choice but to respect me.” She laughs heartily and I find myself grinning at her in response.
Ana looks up from her plate. Her lips are spread in a wide, sauce covered smile. “This is so much fun! Mama, can we go shopping now? We can buy stuff and have even more fun!”
“Oh, sweetie, I have so much work I need to do,” Tiffany starts to say.