Page 7 of Contracted and Claimed By The Boss

Well, that wasn’t saying much. To an eleven-year-old girl, even an ordinary upset could be quite destabilising. ‘Has she mentioned anything, whether you think it’s significant or not?’

‘No.’ Then, with a deepening frown, ‘She hasn’t been talking much lately. I’ve spoken to her teacher. She told me Amanda’s generally well liked, though there has been some movement in her social circle. But it’s got to be more than that. She’s just become so—’ He hesitated, and she felt his protective loyalty and something inside her softened. He was a strange beast of a man, with many facets, but she thought she might actually come to like this side of him—the loving, confused father. ‘Argumentative,’ he added slowly, rubbing a hand over his jaw. ‘It’s like I’m her least favourite person on earth. I can’t say anything right.’

His deep Australian accent drawled over the last few words and Paige’s heart ached for him.

‘I don’t know what’s going on, Miss Cooper.’ Suddenly, he was in charge again. Confident bordering on arrogant, and slightly disapproving.

Paige nodded once. She believed he was at a loss. He wasn’t going to be able to provide any sudden epiphany: if he’d had any useful insights he might not have needed to hire a nanny. And with that in mind, the smart thing to do would be for Paige to leave.

There was certainly no point in staying, in the heart of his office, looking at his furniture, his work desk, the photograph behind it of a jetty with two teenage boys and an older man, and wheelbarrows lined up behind them filled with oysters.

And yet...

‘Is that you?’ she murmured, moving towards the picture.

He grunted. A confirmation?

With her interest overriding any fear of overstaying her welcome, she moved closer to the picture. ‘This one?’ She pointed to the young man on the left—she’d have guessed he was about seventeen in the photograph, all long limbs and broad shoulders.

She heard the quietest rustle of clothing as he moved across the room, coming to stand right behind her. ‘Yes.’ The word was drawn from him reluctantly. He lifted a finger to point to the other boy, his arm brushing hers as he reached past her. Paige caught her breath in her throat. ‘And my brother, Luca. My father.’ He dropped his hand away, stood there, right behind her, and though she was looking at the photo, she could hear him, feel him, and if she closed her eyes, she could see him.

They had to find a way to work together, for Amanda’s sake, which meant clearing the air. Turning slowly, with the very best intentions in the world, Paige blinked up at Max. ‘I meant what I said before,’ she whispered. ‘I’m here to help with your daughter, not for—not because—’

His eyes swept closed and when he exhaled, his breath tingled the hair at Paige’s temples. She stood her ground quite miraculously, given that her knees felt as though they might give way.

‘Good,’ he said after a silence that stretched a beat too long. ‘Let’s make sure we both remember that.’

The way he said it made Paige wonder though: was he finding that hard too?

CHAPTER THREE

BY THE NEXT morning Paige felt as though she’d run a marathon, yet she didn’t let anyone see just how drained she was.

Amanda was truly awful.

Or rather, she was behaving in a way that was awful. Sulky, grumpy, temperamental and mean. Paige had no benchmark for what the girl had been like before, but from everything Max had said—and the dazed expression on his face—this was coming out of the blue like a freight train off its tracks.

Paige drove into the township of Mamila with Amanda, but purposely didn’t make conversation on the trip. She was there to observe. From the back seat of the luxury four-wheel drive, she watched the interactions between Reg and the girl—Reg seemed not to notice any changes in Amanda, and if he did, he wasn’t going to let her obvious unwillingness to chat get in the way of the stories he wanted to tell. He deserved a medal for his ability to chatter in the face of such obvious belligerence. He talked about the desert, the trees, where he’d grown up, in a house on the other side of the forest with a hole in the deck you had to jump over to reach the front door.

‘Don’t know why my old man never got around to fixing it,’ he said with an endearing chuckle and shake of his head, before turning off the main road and onto another—equally straight, long and lined with those same remarkable trees. Houses began to appear amongst the trunks, just a few at first and then more and more and then they were on the outskirts of a town, with proper roads and signs, and a couple of overhead lights.

Just a main street, really, with a few shops and cafes on either side. It was historic and charming. Paige couldn’t help sighing as they drove past. How she’d have liked to stop and explore! But her first priority was Amanda.

She watched as the girl sat with crossed arms, hunched over, staring out of the window with a scowl every bit as impressive as her father’s, eyeing the same little shops Amanda had just been admiring.

They approached the school and Amanda tensed visibly. Paige held her breath, watching with even more care. It was a tiny, telltale reaction, just the stiffening of her shoulders, the tightening of her body, but it confirmed for Paige that school was at least one source of stress for Amanda. Perhaps the only source? If Paige could help Amanda navigate whatever was happening at school, it might help turn her mood around. Could it be so simple?

No, of course not, she chided herself mentally. Nothing was simple with hormonal, prepubescent kids.

‘What are you doing?’ Amanda demanded fiercely, when Paige stepped out of the car.

Paige kept a neutral expression. ‘Walking you in.’

Amanda’s jaw dropped. ‘Nuh uh. No way. I’m not a baby.’ She pulled on her school-bag strap and glanced over her shoulder.

‘I know you’re not, but my job is to see you through the gate.’

‘And you can see the gate from here,’ Amanda hissed.

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