Page 1 of Worth the Vow

Dominic

“I’m done being nice, Katharine. Explain yourself right fucking now,” I state, my voice deep and angry. I can feel my blood pressure rising as I stare at Kate’s defiant expression, her hands on her hips in annoyance.Why am I so angry with her? Because this is the third month in a row that she’s been found by a member of my family, clearly struggling, and in pain.

“There’s nothing to explain. Mind your own business, Dominic,” she huffs. Kate stands tall in front of me, but I can see how much pain she’s in by her stature, as well as the sound of her voice. Normally strong and clear, but today Kate’s voice is muddled with pain.

“I found you in a ball on the bathroom floor. That deserves an explanation.” I’m not sure I’ll forget the visual for as long as I live. Sobbing, and in pain, Kate barely recognized being moved when I picked her up and took her to the closest bedroom, which just so happened to be mine.

Kate sits down on the edge of my bed, misery etched on her face. Her dark blonde hair sits halfway down her back, often a mélange of different colors. Today she has a few purple streaks haphazardly placed throughout the strands. Her deep brown eyes, which normally sparkle with mirth and mischief, appear dull and broken. When she goes toe-to-toe with me, Kate is only around six inches shorter than my own six-one.

“It’s not a big deal,” Kate says. The color is returning to her cheeks, probably more due to her frustration with me than anything. Kate gets along with every single member of my family — except for me.

“You were crying, Katharine. It is a big deal.”

“Normal people cry, Dominic,” she says pointedly, but movement casts my eyes downward. I notice she’s gingerly holding her stomach.

“Are you pregnant?” I blurt out, then immediately wince when I realize how inappropriate that is. “Shit, I’m sorry. That is none of my business.”

“No, I’m not pregnant, you moron,” she snaps, and I’m secretly relieved. “I’ve got so many damn female problems I’ll probably never get pregnant. And it would be your business, since you employ me.”

“Female problems?” I ask quietly. Beyond pregnancy and periods, I’m pretty clueless about what other things Kate could be struggling with. She’s too young to be going through menopause.

Kate sighs. “I have PCOS and endometriosis.”

I wrack my brain, trying to remember what PCOS stands for. “What is that first one?”

“Polycystic ovary syndrome.”

“And that means …”

“Basically, my ovaries are full of cysts, and my hormones are all messed up. And then the endometriosis means I’ve got abnormal cells growing all over the place. So my entire reproductive system is fucked,” she says, her voice clear. Still, a tremble in her words betrays her defiant demeanor.God, do all women go through this? Could my daughters experience this? I shudder at the thought.

My gut is churning as I take a moment to observe Kate in my space. Honestly, this is pretty momentous. I haven’t had a woman in my bedroom since my ex-wife left. Hell, I’ve barely even had sex in five years. My job and my family take up all of my time, and frankly, any woman I meet never seems to excite me. My hand does the job just as well as any of my past conquests.

Kate is my nanny, and has been living in a guest room in my basement for six months. On top of nannying, she has worked odd jobs for the entire time I’ve known her. Bartending, babysitting, and even temp jobs. I know the majority of her pay comes from me, but I still only need her an average of twenty-five hours per week. I assume Kate pulls in around fifty hours per week collectively. She certainly doesn’t seem to be here very often on the weekend, but she could have a busy social life for all I know. Somehow, the thought of Kate out partying, or trying to hook up, makes me irrationally angry.

My kids are ten, eight, and almost seven. It’s been a while since they’ve had a woman in the house, and I can tell they’re enjoying having more access to Kate. She gives them the attention and love they crave, which they clearly don’t get from their mother.

That’s partially why I ended up hiring Kate as a nanny. More than once, I took her from the hotel to watch my kids when I had evening meetings. My kids adore Kate, and probably listen to her more than me. So, when she was evicted from her apartment, my mom suggested Kate move in with me. “It will be easier for her to handle the children, cucciolo. And we need to help her. She’s family.”

Yes, my mom calls me little puppy. Evidently, as a toddler, I gave her a sad expression that reminded her of puppy-dog eyes, and the name has stuck well into adulthood. I’m thirty-five, for fuck’s sake. She could drop the nickname whenever she wanted, but I know it’ll stick forever.

Technically, Kate isn’t family. Trust me, I’ve thought about it. It’s a murky area, for sure. Kate’s half-brothers, Matt and Zane, are my cousins, but there isn’t a blood relationship between us. But my sweet Italian mother wouldn’t hear any arguments. When someone dear to her struggles, she will find a way to help, come hell or high water.

“What do your doctors say?” I ask, pacing back and forth in front of my bed. I rub my neck in frustration as I wrack my brain in how I can help Kate. Problem-solving is in my nature.

Kate laughs bitterly. “What doctors?”

“What do you mean? I assume you’re under medical care, aren’t you? What twenty-something woman doesn’t have a doctor?”

“The kind without medical insurance, Dominic. And if any doctor near here would take cash, I don’t have the funds for the office visits. Don’t even get me started on the cost of prescription medication, or the procedures they may suggest. Plus, I know a regular doctor isn’t going to deal with me. I’ll be referred out, which means more office visits.”

“How do you not have medical insurance?” I ask. She glares at me. “Katharine, you have so many different jobs. Surely one of them has insurance.”

“Nope. None of my jobs are full-time.” I take a breath, ready to tell her what to do next, but she holds up a hand to stop me. “Don’t even go there, Dominic. I know you’re going to tell me to search for a job. I have been. I’m not qualified for anything. Because really, who wants to hire someone with zero college under her belt, and a gazillion part-time jobs for experience?”

“Weren’t you offered healthcare through the hotel?” I ask. While I am the CEO of my family’s hotel, Everlasting Inn and Spa, there are certain aspects of the day-to-day that I don’t micromanage. One thing I keep my nose out of is accounting. My mom still oversees that department, and I choose to let her delegate that task out if she chooses. While I deal more with hotel issues, sales, and marketing, my mom still dabbles in human resources and concierge staffing. I vaguely remember her telling me she offered Kate insurance, but Kate turned it down.

“She wanted to just give it to me, Dominic,” Kate says, her eyes blazing with fire.

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