The Billionaire And The Nanny (Book One)

by Paige North

  I don’t know what to say to her after that. I almost can’t even look her in the eyes anymore. How am I supposed to tell this little girl that she’d be better off without me? That somewhere in her future, there’s a mom and dad who desperately have been waiting all their lives for a baby girl like her who will give her the most amazing childhood ever?

  How do I tell her that I don’t think it can be me? That I don’t have the patience, the lifestyle, nor the relationship for it? “I love her, Lilly Belle. I love your nanny. At least, I’m pretty sure I do, but it’s just a feeling, you know? It fades with time. This is a known fact.”

  No, it’s not, her eyes seem to tell me. Would you stop loving me over time?

  Don’t know where that thought came from, but the answer is a resounding no. What she doesn’t understand is that she should go away from me because I love her. She should go with another family because I care for her. I want her to be happy. I can run a Fortune 500 company, I can make billions of dollars a year, and I can keep the families of Townsend Industries employed and functional, but I don’t know how to be the parent I never had.

  Little girl, our beautiful fall will soon turn to coldest of winters, but then will come spring, and spring means rebirth. And hopefully by then, you’ll have a real family.

  Penelope

  As I sink my feet into warm water laced with lavender oil, I think about where I am.

  Ethan’s gorgeous house, yes, but where else? Am I his girlfriend, his employee, what? I’m still getting paid and I still watch Lilly Belle, though he’s been taking on a lot more childcare responsibility lately. He even took her for a walk yesterday by himself, which was astounding considering where he came from. But at some point, we should define this.

  I need to know how much I matter to him.

  So…my intention tonight is to take this relaxing bath (because he insisted he could handle Lilly Belle after I’ve had her all day) and then when he comes into my room after bedtime, lead him to talk. Ethan doesn’t talk much. I know when he’s content, and I know when he’s frustrated, but he doesn’t express his feelings much, and when he does, he needs a break. It’s exhausting work for him.

  Sinking all the way in the bath, I lean back against the tub pillow and watch the curls of steam rise into the air. I wouldn’t mind if Ethan walked in right now and gave me some of that sweet-n-sour love that he’s so good at. Some days, he’s so hardcore and filthy, a dirty horny lion, and other days he’s a docile lamb. That’s who he is and it still scares me. I’m still waiting for the day when he flips the switch and decides his fear will win.

  I take a deep breath, taking in the scented air and exhale long and contentedly. I live like a queen. I’m an extremely lucky woman. Soon, I’m falling away into a meditative trance, imagining my family taken care of. Money is no object. I’ve graduated, my business is doing great, and I’m taking care of them.

  Suddenly, I hear something out in the hallway. Shouting? Ethan’s shouting. At first, I think I’ve fallen asleep and having a bad dream, but then I realize he’s still yelling like the world has ended. A surge of adrenaline shoots through my veins, spreading throughout my body like an atropine injection, and I sit up, splashing water over the edge of the tub. I’m up and grabbing a towel before I can process anything. “What is it? Ethan?”

  God, please, please don’t let it be anything terrible.

  My brain goes through a mental checklist: did I cover all electrical outlets, did I leave anything sharp lying around, did I baby-proof the entire upstairs before I headed into the bath? Skidding into the hallway, I find Ethan sitting about a third way down the stairs holding Lilly Belle close to his chest. She’s crying, and all I can think is “thank God” that she is. Crying is good. Crying means she’s breathing.

  The stair gate is wide open. “Ethan, what happened?”

  He pulls Lilly Belle’s head away from his chest so he can inspect her, as I crouch next to her and give her a complete visual check. Her face is pink from crying, fat tears are falling down her cheeks, but otherwise she looks okay. “She fell.”

  “What do you mean she fell? I locked the gate.” Did I? I’m pretty sure I did. I’m pretty good at securing the house, though I could’ve made a mistake.

  “Yes, but I went downstairs to get her some juice and forgot to lock it. She fell, Penelope. She fell down the fucking stairs.” He’s nearly in tears, holding the baby so close to his chest, my heart breaks for him.

  “Here, let me see…” I hold out my arms to Lilly, and she immediately flies into them, wailing and wailing her grievances. “I know, baby. Shhh, it’s okay.” Double checking, it seems that her arms and legs and fine. Nothing looks broken. She’s got a nasty bruise on her forehead, though. “How far did she fall?”

  Ethan’s hands tremble at his brow. “Several steps. I caught her before she fell all the way.” At this point, I notice the spilled juice cup downstairs, which he’d probably been screwing closed when he noticed the baby falling. “We should go to the ER. Now.” He takes out his phone and calls for an ambulance.

  He’s taking this pretty bad. “Babies are pretty tough, you know. Look, she’s already bouncing back,” I say after Lilly Belle’s cries turn to sobs. “She’ll probably only have a couple bruises and—”

  “We’re taking her to the ER,” he hisses, giving me a wicked glare.

  I draw back and let it go. No point in arguing with him. Besides, it’s no skin off his back to make sure that she’s well-taken care of, checked out by a doctor, and everything. The fees are nothing to him.

  And even though I’m fairly certain she’s going to be okay, she should be checked out by a doctor to be certain.

  “I’ll go get dressed.” Standing with Lilly in my arms, I head to my room, put her on the floor surrounded by pillows, but she immediately wants to be carried. I end up having to get dressed with one arm while I carry her. It’s times like these I think of my own mother.

  At the hospital, Ethan is a wreck. I’ve never seen him so distraught. He paces back and forth while we wait for X-ray and MRI results, and I know he’s going to take the blame for this. I only wish I could tell him that all babies have accidents and survive. Even the doctor told him so, though he did say she was very lucky. It could’ve been worse.

  Lilly Belle falls asleep inside of a crib while we wait to be seen by the doctor again. I can tell this is something Ethan has never had to do—wait for service. Apparently, it doesn’t matter how much money you have, this hospital gives attention in order of urgency like they should.

  “How much longer, for fuck’s sake?” he mutters, sitting on the edge of a hard metal chair, head in his hands.

  “It’s good that we have to wait.”

  He shoots me a sharp look that makes me instantly regret it. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I just mean that if it were worse, they’d be attending to her right now. If it was a matter of life or death, she’d be surrounded by doctors and nurses. It wasn’t that bad, Ethan.”

  He sucks a deep breath through his nose, like he’s losing patience with me. Never mind that I’ve been patient with him and always feel like I’m walking on eggshells around him. “She could have died, Penelope. I don’t think you realize the gravity of what happened. Those stairs are wood. The bottom floor is polished concrete. She could’ve ended at the bottom with her head split open.”

  “I know…” I nod, shaking off the horrible image. I see where his shock is coming from, but it still ended well. “It could’ve ended terribly, but it didn’t.”

  “But it could have!” he shouts, standing halfway out of the chair only to sit down again.

  I won’t be scared by Ethan’s antics. I don’t care how loud he gets with me, his bark is worse than his bite. I don’t back down. “I understand,” I say quietly. “But my point is, we should be grateful it wasn’t worse.”

  “This has nothing to do with gratitude, Penelope. This has to do with me, my inefficiency as a parent. I can
’t do this.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t…fuck…” He drops his head into his hands and shakes it. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m not fit to be a parent.”

  I want to slap him so hard. But I also understand that he’s going through emotions. Sitting in the hard chair next to him, I put my arm over his shoulder, knowing there’s a good chance he’ll shrug his way out of it. Ethan has a way of not allowing himself happiness or even comfort. “Ethan, listen to me. All babies have accidents. All parents go through scares like this…”

  “Don’t…do that, Penelope.”

  “Do what?”

  “Tell me this is normal. It’s not. Nothing about this is normal. Her nearly dying isn’t normal, and us being here together isn’t normal. Nothing is normal.”

  I can’t help but feel hurt by his words. “So, you hate this new normal? Is that what you’re saying? You hate the way your life has changed? Because I don’t. I’ve had the best time of my life here with you, Ethan. With you and Lilly Belle, and even though I didn’t expect to feel any of the one thousand different feelings I’ve had, I’m still grateful for them. I welcome them.”

  “Well, we process things differently.”

  “I know. But don’t think for a second that I haven’t been scared by what’s been happening between us, because I have. I’m scared that it won’t last, I’m scared that you won’t want me anymore, and I’m scared about the adoption. I just choose to be happy.”

  “Well, good for you. You’re Mary Fucking Poppins, practically perfect in every way.” The anger is palpable.

  “I think you’re just scared about what happened tonight.”

  “You bet your ass I’m scared.” He pulls away from me. “When my sister left her to me, I swore I’d take care of her.”

  “And you have.”

  “I didn’t know how I would do that, and for a while, I thought that meant by hiring other people to do it for me. You, an adoption agency, whoever. Either way, I would take care of her,” he says. “And I failed tonight, Penelope. I nearly fucked it all up.”

  “But you didn’t,” I say quietly.

  His eyes turn on me. “Get it through your head. I’m not cut out for this kind of life.”

  “This is just one moment. One bad, scary moment, but it will pass,” I plead, starting to feel sick. Starting to feel legitimately nauseous. The look on his face.

  The worst is happening.

  “Penelope,” he says, and his voice breaks. “We’re living a lie pretending to be parents. I’m the child’s uncle, and you’re her nanny. And that’s the reality. That’s the truth.”

  “We are whoever we say we are.”

  “No, the world doesn’t work that way. We can’t go on believing we’re a family just because we look like one. I’ve let myself live in a dreamland for too many weeks now.”

  “A dreamland?” I scoff. “Is that what you call this amazing life we’ve been living? Seemed pretty damn real to me, Ethan.” I fight the tears rising in my eyes. How dare he negate everything we have just gone through, pretend it didn’t happen or call it a mistake?

  “And because of it, we need to go back to the way things were.”

  “No, don’t do this…that’s your fear talking…”

  “It’s logic talking. Someone has to be the voice of reason in any given situation. I have to be the voice of reason right now, Penelope. This has to end. For all our sakes. Starting tomorrow, I go back to work at the office. You go back to being nanny full-time. In a few days, I’ll call the adoption agency…”

  “No. Ethan, please…”

  “I cannot be a father. I cannot play house anymore. It was irresponsible of me, and now it’s time to get back on track.”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I was nothing to him all this time. I was a nanny with benefits and nothing more. Lilly Belle was nothing to him. He’s weak and scared and cold-hearted. The sooner I stop forcing him into the mold I’d hoped for the man in my life, the happier I’ll be. Ethan Townsend has left the building.

  I shake my head. “I thought we were more than this.”

  “You thought wrong.”

  The tears spill over. I hate myself for crying in front of him. “This is not the voice of reason. Allowing yourself to be happy is the voice of reason. Being the father that little girl needs is the voice of reason. I don’t care if you let me go. I don’t care if you find happiness with another woman. I hope I taught you to believe in love, even if it’s not with me. I’d be happy with that. But don’t tell me that ending this family for Lilly Belle is what’s best for her, because I’m not buying it. You’re her father now, Ethan. Step up to the plate, and be that man.”

  Shoving the curtain aside, I pace down the hallway to the stares of nurses and doctors. I’m not leaving. I would never leave that little girl unless he forced me to go, but I need fresh air. I need to get away from his negativity. Let him sit in that room stewing in his own pain, realizing that without me, without the family we created, he is nothing but a ghost of himself.

  Ethan

  Sitting in my office overlooking Central Park, my natural environment with gray walls and metal furniture reflects my life. Lilly Belle’s accident yesterday was my fault, and there is no way I will let Penelope convince me that it wasn’t. Unlike my mother, I take responsibility for my actions. I left the gate open by accident.

  Part of me knows that the fall was not as bad as I made it out to be. Part of me knows this is just an excuse, a giant rationalization because I got in too deep.

  But another part of me thinks that it doesn’t matter. Because ultimately I always knew this was going to end badly, that I would destroy anything good that came into my life.

  I grew up with a non-existent father and a mother who was withdrawn and depressed or insane and antagonistic. Love, kindness, safety—I never had or experienced these things.

  Until now, that is. And unfortunately, now is far too late. I’m fully formed and I won’t be able to change because some lovely young lass stole my heart away. I am who I am, that much is certain.

  Penelope and Lilly Belle are better off without me.

  “Mr. Townsend? The meeting is about to start.” The rhythm of Bianca’s voice soothes me. It’s calm and reassuring and falls back into place with the world I know. Work, my office, the world of steel and money. This is where I belong, not pretending to be a husband and father. Lilly Belle needs a real father and Penelope needs a real man.

  “Thank you, I’ll be right there.” Of course, I won’t be right there. I’ll be there when I damn well please. This is how it’s always been. I pick up the phone, take a deep breath, and make the call.

  Coming home to a quiet house, I pause in the doorway and scan around. It’s late. The baby must be sleeping. All night last night, I couldn’t sleep thinking she may have had a concussion, but Wilson has kept in touch with me all day assuring me that she’s fine. I haven’t spoken to Penelope. Her words were harsh.

  I understood the meaning behind them, but she doesn’t know what I’ve been through. I am stepping up and being a man. By giving Lilly Belle to a loving family, I am doing right by her.

  Entering the kitchen, I grab myself a glass of water. The faint static of the baby monitor is both comforting and a nuisance. I didn’t have that noise before Lilly Belle arrived. I didn’t have to worry about how someone else was doing. I have to go upstairs and find Penelope, tell her that they’ll be coming soon.

  Then I hear the sounds of the baby finishing up her bottle in the nursery. She’s not awake. She’s sitting with Penelope in the gliding chair, getting ready for bedtime. Then, I hear it—the singing that comes before the sendoff. “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…you make me happy when skies are gray…” The softest, most angelic voice you’ve ever heard.

  “You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you,” I mouth along to Penelope’s singing. “Please don’t take my sunshine away.” I drop my head onto the kitchen counter and f
ight tears. Tears don’t solve anything, and anyway, I’m all out of tears. I used them all up as a child and teen. Not a single tear gave me the love I desperately needed. Not a single tear made my mother stop screaming insults, stop throwing things when she was in her manic anger, stop ignoring us during her depressive episodes.

  I thought I had pushed those emotions away forever, but here they are, back and fresh as if I’m a child again. I can’t live like this. I can’t take feeling again.

  Slowly, I head upstairs. When I reach the top, I unlatch the baby gate. Penelope is just closing the door to the nursery. Her eyes are swollen and her face looks gaunt. “You look like you haven’t slept much,” I tell her.

  “You’re a charmer.” She spins on her heels and goes into her room about to close her door.

  “Miss Wallach, I have to speak to you.” I take steps toward her room and lean against the doorframe, pushing her door open gently.

  “Yes, Mr. Townsend?” she says, voice full of spite. It’s okay. She has every right to feel angry. I don’t expect her to understand why it has to be this way. Crossing her arms, she faces me, straight as a stick, holding herself in the darkness of her room.

  Maybe it’s better that she hates me. It will make moving on that much easier for her.

  “They’re coming tomorrow afternoon to pick up Lilly Belle.” I say the words as clearly and antiseptically as I can.

  I watch her face change like the silent phases of the moon from shock to acceptance to grief then back to being stoic. “It didn’t have to be this way,” she says in a choked voice.

  I feel my heart contract painfully and fight the urge to stroke her cheek, to tell her it will be okay, to take it all back and promise to try once more.

  “It did have to be this way, Miss Wallach.”

  “Stop calling me that. You can go on pretending that life is the same as it was before if you like, Ethan, but I will be the adult here and say that it has been my life’s greatest pleasure being with you and caring for your precious Lilly Belle.” She points to the nursery. “What you have sleeping in that room is the most beautiful, luminescent child I have ever seen, and you will miss her when she’s gone. As I will.” She turns around, controls a sob rising in her chest, then goes about the task of collecting her things off the dresser and night stand.