Page 22 of The Single Dad

There’s a desk against one wall, between two large windows that illuminate the entire room, making it seem even more spacious. In the corner, another doorway leads to an attached, private bathroom.

I take it all in, walking slowly around the room in absent-minded circles. Laura stands by the door, smiling at me indulgently, her hands folded in front of her.

After a few moments, I glance back at her. “Sorry,” I say. “It’s just—”

“I understand,” she replies warmly. She steps to the side as the driver enters the room, one of my suitcases in each hand.

“Oh, you don’t have to—I can help with those,” I say, stepping toward the door. Laura stops me, holding out a hand and shaking her head.

“No, no. That’s his job. Your job is to get settled in.” She gestures to the bags. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Um…” I look at the suitcases, suddenly unable to remember what I packed in them. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’ll be here, if you need anything,” she says. “Just give me a shout. I’ll be working down the hall.”

I return her smile. I was disappointed not to be shown around by Mr. Sullivan himself, but at least I know that his housekeeper—my coworker, I realize with a start—is a good person, someone I can turn to. “Thank you for everything.”

As she’s leaving the room, I can’t help but blurt out, “Actually, wait. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” She glances over her shoulder.

“What kept Mr. Sullivan? Why couldn’t he show me around?” Now that I’ve said it out loud, the question sounds almost childish. I can feel heat rising in my cheeks, but Laura doesn’t seem to think it was a strange thing to ask.

“Mr. Sullivan is a busy man,” she explains. “He’s almost always working, even when he doesn’t have to be. You start to get used to it after a while.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”

Laura smiles at me, then leaves the room. For the first time, I’m alone in my new housing.

The room is spacious and airy. Now that I’m by myself, I give in to the urge to collapse onto the bed. The mattress is as soft as I was hoping, and the sheets are to die for—I can’t imagine what the thread count on these must be.

After a few moments of luxuriating on the bed, I push myself upright and go to one of my suitcases. Time to get settled.

I lose track of time as I start to unpack. I’m halfway through the first bag when a deep voice surprises me.

“How is everything so far?”

I jump, looking up at the doorway. Mr. Sullivan is standing there, his tie loosened, his sleeves rolled up past the elbows. I get a glimpse of his perfectly-toned forearms and swallow, suddenly flustered. He looks sexier than ever.

I manage to keep my self-consciousness under wraps, stopping myself from reaching up to nervously twine my fingers into my hair. “It’s fantastic—I love the room. Thank you.”

“Good,” he says. He gives me a once-over, and I blush again, deeper this time. I wonder if he’s remembering the last time we saw each other in person, when I had just climbed out of the bath and my towel slipped. I know I am.

For an instant, something burns in his eyes, a quiet intensity as we look at each other. Then the moment passes, and he turns away.

“You’ll officially start your duties tomorrow,” he tells me. “Take the evening to settle in.”

“Th-thank you,” I stammer. He leaves without another word, and I’m left kneeling in a pile of clothes, waiting for my heartbeat to calm down.

Chapter 7

Riley

I wake up the next morning cocooned in a bed that feels like a cloud. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well in my entire life. Between the down pillows and the million-thread-count silk sheets, I’ve never been so comfortable.

It takes a second to remember where I am, and for a moment, I’m overwhelmed at what I’ve taken on. I’ve never been a nanny before. I don’t have that much experience with kids, especially one-on-one. Can I even handle something like that?

Then I think of the little boy, beaming as I handed him the plastic dinosaur. I take a deep breath, sitting up in bed.

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