Page 10 of Beneficial Misfortune

“Regardless of how ridiculous the nickname might be, he’s not wrong. I have a lot of money. It’s part of owning the biggest company in New York, but with that also comes the attitude from your coworkers.”

I don’t say anything because, once again, I’m lost.

What does his financial status have to do with my coworkers and how they like me? That sounds like a crazy reason not to like someone. What, because I teach his daughter?

“What does your having money have to do with me, though?” I ask, unable to connect the dots.

We make it to the front of the school, where his limo waits. He chuckles but doesn’t answer as Addison drops our hands to run to the driver, who’s making his way around the car.

“We’re on our way to dinner. Would you like to join us?” he asks, and I’m kind of taken by surprise.

“Yes! Please, Ms Kat! It’s Oli’s birthday!” she shouts, all but jumping from the driver's arms to run back to us.

“Oh, um. I’m sorry, I can’t tonight, honey,” I tell her, feeling guilty as hell the second the words leave my mouth and her lips pull down in a frown. It’s not that I’m opposed to dinner exactly, but I don’t really want to intrude on family time. Not to mention, I’m sure wherever they’re going, I’m severely underdressed. “Maybe next time,” I tell her, trying to make her feel better, but it does nothing, and she continues to stare up at me with her puppy dog eyes.

“Addison, don’t make her feel bad. It was very last minute, and you know what Oli says about that look.” Nathaniel scolds her halfheartedly, and a smile turns her lips.

“That my puppy eyes are a lethal weapon,” she says with a chuckle, and I laugh as well.

He’s right.

“Have a good night, Ms. Kat,” Nathaniel says as Addison hugs me. I’d never thought my name could sound sexy, but I was wrong.

“You as well. Enjoy dinner.” With a wave, I head off toward the subway station as they get into the limo and drive away.

It’s not until I’m seated on the subway that I realize he never answered my question.

Chapter 5

The next few weeks, things fall into a pattern as Nathaniel becomes the default parent picking up Addison.

A note comes down from the office, and I’m not surprised it’s from Nathaniel. He’s the only parent who ever sends a note; often when others run late, they don’t know until it’s too late, or they just don’t bother to say anything. I get it, though, at least with him. He said he owns a huge company. I imagine he’s a very busy man. The fact that he finds time to pick up Addison daily is adorable, and if that means I have to stay late with her every once in a while, I’m happy to help.

Only today's note doesn’t say he’s simply running late.

Today, his meeting is going to run over enough that he’s asked if I would mind bringing Addison to the office.

My first instinct is to refuse. While the subways are safe enough for me, I don’t know them well enough outside of my usual route to want to take Addison. Reading the rest of the note makes that a moot point, though. He’s offered to send a car to pick us up.

His secretary’s number is scribbled at the bottom, with instructions for me to message them and let them know if I can do that or not. I read over the note three times before I set it down on my desk, looking around my classroom as the students silently read.

I never bring out my phone with the kids in class, wanting to give them my full attention, but I guess right now wouldn’t hurt. Digging it out of my purse, I type in the number and a message that confirms I can, in fact, bring her, but I hesitate to press send, my thumb hovering over the screen as nerves get the best of me.

It’s silly, really. He’s asking me to bring Addison to him, not out on a date. I see him almost daily at this point. So why does my stomach feel like there are millions of butterflies inside of it?

Crap.

I let my thumb fall to the screen, sending the confirmation before I can think any more about it.

It’s just for Addison, a favor between friends, I tell myself, but it feels like a lie. I set my phone down on my desk and get back to what I was doing, almost jumping out of my skin when it vibrates with a response not even a minute later.

The car will be there at 3:30. Thank you.

It’s a simple response, straight to the point, and not even from him, but I still feel the flush as it works its way across my cheeks.

I’m going to Nathaniel’s office. Something about that feels big, even if I can’t explain why.

So much for not crushing on him.

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