Page 16 of My Not So Wicked Boss (My Not So Wicked 3)

“You’re an artist.” Miles admired my scribbled-on artwork.

“Hardly.” The only classes I’d ever taken were in high school. My only claim to fame was when I won the blue ribbon at the district art festival my junior year. My parents were so proud, they had the charcoal drawing I did of the old abandoned mine above Carrington Cove framed. It still hung on the wall in their home office, near the shelves where my parents saved every award my siblings and I had ever won. Granted, my siblings occupied most of the shelves. There were a few soccer championship trophies of mine scattered amongst the many academic accolades my older sister and younger brother had received over the years.

My siblings deserved the recognition. Vanessa, my older sister, was a clerk for a federal judge in Washington D.C., and my little brother, Troy, was just hired by NASA in Florida. At least I gave them a grandchild. Mind you, it wasn’t how they hoped, but they loved Chloe like she was the air they breathed. My siblings, though each married, had yet to fulfill my parents’ wish for more grandchildren. They and their spouses were more focused on their careers right now.

Miles angled his head to get a better look at my simple drawing. “You have talent.”

I didn’t argue with him. I was anxious for him to finish his story. I went back to absentmindedly drawing for Henry while he continued to color everything I drew.

Before Miles continued, I saw him flexing his fingers as if he was trying to prepare himself for the painful memories he was about to share with me. Once his fingers relaxed, he began again. “Sophie,” he said her name with such love, “was determined to be better than her family, our family,” he conceded. “Especially when it came to her husband and son. She wanted Henry to live a life outside of family secrets, lies, and propriety. I’ve always lived outside the ‘familial’ rules.” He smiled to himself, but it only lasted for a moment. His handsome face soon turned somber. “So . . .” he had to take a deep breath, “after the accident . . .” his voice cracked.

I had that urge again to reach out and comfort him, but this time I stopped before I made a fool of myself.

Miles steadied himself. “. . . my sister lived for a few hours.” A sheen of mist covered his eyes.

My free hand flew to my mouth.

“It was then,” he hurried to say what he needed to, “that I found out she and Kevin had made me the executor of their estate and guardian to Henry.”

Henry looked up at me and I brushed back his hair. My heart ached for him and his uncle.

“She made me swear I would bring him here and raise him better than she could. An impossible task.”

I wanted to ease his pain. I thought for a moment before leaning forward. “She paid you the highest compliment and honor. I would believe her.”

He too leaned forward with hope in his eyes that what I said was true. “Will you help me honor my sister’s last wishes?”Chapter SixI kept nervously staring up at Miles between each bite. He was doing the same. We hadn’t said much after our food had arrived and his plea for help. Meanwhile, Henry was enjoying his cheese pizza, at least what was making it into his mouth. He refused to let me cut it into smaller pieces. He wanted to eat it like a big boy. Thankfully, I had thought to tuck napkins into his collared shirt. I’d never seen a young child so properly or expensively dressed.

Miles set his veggie wrap down and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I’ve frightened you.”

I lowered the spoon for my tomato soup and rested it in my half empty bowl. “Not at all. But you’ve given me a lot to think about.” Not that I didn’t feel the weight of what he was proposing, but it didn’t scare me. Scary was finding a note on your kitchen table from your husband announcing he was leaving, and you were on your own. I imagined Miles might be having some of those same feelings now. There was nothing as terrifying and wonderful as raising a child.

He cocked his head. “What are you thinking?”

I looked between him and Henry, who gave me a messy tomato sauce grin that melted my heart. My eyes landed on his uncle, who did some other things to my heart that scared me. I was kind of hoping my heart would stay permanently dormant where men were concerned. This way I was sure to never get it broken again. Miles’s thoughtful stare, however, had my heart skipping beats. I rubbed my heart, not sure what to think. It stung like a numb foot once you began to move it to get the blood flowing again. Was it wise to work for a man who elicited such a response?

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