Page 33 of Beneficial Misfortune

Again, I nod, because, I mean, what am I going to say to that? When we talked about me taking over as Addison’s nanny, he told me he has a pretty busy schedule, hence the need for ananny. When you run your own business, you don’t really get days off the same way the rest of the world does.

“Desmond will be home, though, so should you need anything, please let him know.” With that, he stands from the table, coming over to collect a very sleepy-looking Addison. I take that as my sign that I’m excused, whispering a rushed good night before I make my way back up to my new room as quickly as I dare without running.

I appreciate his offer of Desmond's assistance, but I can almost guarantee I won’t be taking it. I know I can’t avoid them forever, especially not with us all living in the same house, but I don’t have any intention of seeking him out.

It’s not until I’m in my room with the door shut firmly behind me that I feel my panic begin to lessen. How did this happen? What are the odds that of all the students in my class, Addison would be tied to them and that I would accept a nanny position that lands me in their path again?

I let my head fall back against the door with a groan at my luck, or maybe it was a lack of luck. Hell, I don’t know what it is, but it’s ridiculous.

The house is quiet, and despite the crazy that just happened, my room is nice. I want to take some time to look around without Addison running around trying to show me everything. She was so excited earlier I hardly had a moment to really look for myself.

Like the rest of the house, my room is massive, way more room than I’ll ever need. The bed is so big I bet it could easily fit at least four grown people, and I don’t even need to touch it to know the second I lay down, it’s going to be the best sleep I’ve ever gotten; I can tell just by how soft the blanket is. The tufted headboard is black with gold details, the same as most of the other furniture, from the matching nightstands on either side ofthe bed to the tall dresser near the bathroom door and even the vanity.

Most of the furniture I’ve seen is darker, but the accents always give it enough of a pop that, with the lights on, it doesn’t feel stuffy or small—not that I think that’s even possible.

My room is so big that a chandelier hangs above my bed, and I’m honestly not sure how I feel about that.

I’ve seenFinal Destination. But somehow, if I were to die in this house, I get the feeling it would be from something like falling down the million stairs and not something like the chandelier falling. I’m sure this place was built to last.

Holy shit.

My bathroom is amazing! There’s no tub, but the shower is huge, taking up the whole back half of the room. There are no doors and no glass, but as I look closer, I notice the drain at the end of the tile that makes up the bottom of the shower area. I’ve never used a shower like this before, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little afraid of making a whole mess, but I’m also excited to try it. Walking further into the bathroom, more lights flick on, and with them, the room warms.

It’s cozy, almost a bit much being fully clothed, but I bet it would be nice fresh out of the shower.

Shit, they really did think of everything.

Walking out of the bathroom, I walk right over to my bed and drop face down onto the super soft blanket with an oomph.

This isn’t ideal, but even with them here, I don’t feel like I made the wrong choice. Maybe they forgot exactly what happened that night?

Judging by the way they looked at me and the way Desmond was leaning toward me at dinner, I highly doubt it.

There’s not much I can do about it now, though. I already agreed to nanny Addison, and I won’t back out on her, no matter how awkward this might be. Not to mention, I don’t really haveanywhere else to go. I could go back to my flat. I’d filed a police report, but it doesn’t feel safe or like home the way it had, even when I left this morning. Not to mention, I don’t even have a door to close.

I wander over to the window and look out at the massive backyard. The pool is huge, and there's a giant play structure that looks like it belongs in a park rather than in someone’s backyard. My eyes fall to the pool house, and memories of that night with them rush back, heating my blood and making my heart race for a completely different reason.

From up here on the second floor, it looks like it might be a normal place, but I know better. I know what happens in those walls, and I highly doubt I’m the only one. They might have tried to leave me a way to contact them, but I know they weren’t looking for anything serious, just like I wasn’t.

No, it happened. There’s no denying that, but I don’t need to let it make things weird. They’ve probably been with dozens of women since then and will continue to do so, and they should. I’m not here to stop them. I'm only here for Addison because it’s my job, and she deserves someone who cares. I need to get over myself and them, if I’m being honest.

No, I need to make this work, and I will.

Just because I’ve thought of them more than I care to admit, since that night doesn’t mean they have. They were probably just shocked to see me again.

Determined to let it go and move on, I check the drawers and find some basic clothing items, just as Nathan said. They’re nothing special, just flannel pajamas, some plain shirts, and shorts, but enough to get through until my clothes arrive tomorrow. More than I’d hoped for, I’d been ready to sleep in my underwear and wear the same thing tomorrow if needed, though I’m thankful I don’t have to.

I crawl into bed, and oh my god, if it’s not the most comfortable bed I’ve ever laid in. The comforter is thick but not so heavy that I’ll sweat to death, and there's a smaller blanket on top that has to be the softest thing I’ve ever felt.

Whoever says money can’t buy happiness must not have a bed like this because I might have to argue they're wrong right now.

Despite being so comfortable I don’t want to move, sleep evades me. My mind won’t stop as I go over the details of the day, from ice cream to accepting the job, finding my apartment in shambles, and coming here to find Alex and Desmond. Over and over, I replay it, trying to think about anything I missed—signs that Alex and Desmond were Lawson’s—but I come up blank. The only thing I can think of was the Google search I did that named his brother Alexander, but that’s a rather common name, and I didn’t think anything of it at the time.

Stupid.

Rolling on my side, I look at the clock on the nightstand and let out a groan. I’ve been laying here for over an hour and still feel no closer to sleep than I did when I first laid down.

It’s going to be a long night.

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