Page 9 of Worth Every Risk

Mrs Minter smiles. “Shall I let you two get acquainted? Lucie can show you around the house.”

Lucie bounces up and down. “Yay. Let’s start with my room and the playroom.”

“Don’t go into Daddy’s room though. Or his study,” Mrs Minter says.

“Yes, Mrs Minter,” Lucie replies, clipping the heels of her shoes together and standing bolt upright. She looks like she’s used to obeying rules.

“Have you had lunch?” Mrs Minter asks me. I shake my head and she checks her watch. “Twenty-minute tour of the house and then come back to the kitchen in the basement. I’ll get chef to make Lucie’s lunch and we can all eat together.”

Lucie jumps on the spot and claps her hands. “Come on, Ariel. I’ll show you everything.”

“You can call me Aries,” I say. “It’s nearly the same.”

“Oh yes, I know.” Lucie’s gorgeous little face pinches into a serious expression. “But I don’t want to.”

Right.I guess that’s that then. Ariel it is, for the foreseeable.

She shows me her room first, opening her cupboards so I can see her rows of beautiful designer dresses and shoes. I try to fake the enthusiasm she’s expecting, rather than the shock I’m feeling at the opulence of the contents of her wardrobe. I suspect there are going to be multiple opportunities for me to be shocked at the wealth on display in this house. My mind is already blown, and I’m conscious of how my body is reacting to it. Mum always said if displays of extreme wealth make you uncomfortable, then it’s like sending a message to the universe that you don’t want money.

I try to keep that in mind, but it’s almost impossible when Lucie parades me through the house, which is decorated like no home I’ve ever seen, with plush fabrics and sleek lines, and furniture that looks too good to touch, let alone sit on. There’s not a spot of dirt on anything, anywhere, and I can’t help but feel a little bit overawed.

Lucie proudly takes me to the basement to show me the full gym, sauna, and indoor pool. It’s like a luxury spa, with mirrored walls. I can see myself from every angle, and it makes the space feel even bigger than it already is.

There’s music playing from speakers hidden in the walls, even though no one’s here. It’s as if the ambiance is set, just in case Mr Hawkston decides to take a dip.Unbelievable.

We take the lift to the very lowest level, where the doors open into an underground car park. There are five cars parked down here: a red Ferrari, a black Bentley, a McLaren, a Lamborghini, and a sleek silver Mercedes, which is the most discreet of the lot. There are two more spaces, perhaps in case they have visitors. Safe to say Mr Hawkston likes his cars.

“Which would you choose?” Lucie asks. “I like the red one.”

I huff out a little chortle of laughter. “I’ll take the McLaren,” I say, pointing at it. “Because I bet it goes really fast.”

For some reason, an image of Mr Hawkston sitting behind the wheel, a pair of dark sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, his large hands gripping the wheel, cords of muscle flexing up his forearms, flashes in my mind.

Am I drooling?

Lucie giggles, and I check my watch. “Let’s go to lunch. Mrs Minter will be waiting.”

3

MATT

Ilet myself back into the house, loosening my tie as I take a moment to shed the stress of the day. I don’t like to take business meetings at the weekend, but sometimes it happens. It’s nearly 7 pm, and Mrs Minter will be heading out. I want to catch her before she leaves.

The house is quiet, but that’s no guarantee it’s empty. The playroom is on the fourth floor, so if Lucie is up there, I wouldn’t hear her. I briefly wonder if the new nanny is getting on all right and an odd burst of amusement ripples through me as I remember what she said earlier.

A voice that could deep-fry a Mars Bar.

I’m assuming she meant it as a compliment, but what kind of woman says that sort of thing to a man she’s just met? And what kind of woman has no idea she’s talking to her new employer? It’s not as if I have a low profile. I’m easy to find online with a quick search. Maybe she was serious when she said she goes off her gut, and all that she needed was to talk to Lucie to know she wanted the job. But how the fuck could she even hear her gut over all that nervous chattering she was doing?

Gut instinct, indeed. To my surprise, a low chuckle works its way up my throat. It’s absurd, but I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, because although her constant chatter was irritating, it was also somewhat endearing. What made her so nervous?Was it me?A curious flicker of satisfaction ignites at the thought, and I quickly snuff it out.

If Mrs Minter thinks Aries is right for the role, then she likely is. The woman is a fantastic judge of character, which is probably why she and Gemma, my ex-wife, never got along that well.

Something in my chest tenses at the thought of Gemma. I try not to think about her if I possibly can. Our son caught her cheating in this house, on the kitchen table no less. We have a new table now… I made sure of that. And Gemma… I try to see her as little as possible, even though she bought a house almost identical to this one just down the street. Far too close, in my opinion. But Gemma figured it would make life easy on all of us if Lucie’s experience of spending time with her parents separately was as similar as possible. Even the decor is the same. Home, but not home. It’s as though Gemma is trying to trick us all into thinking we still live in the same house.

This summer, Gemma has asked for time away from the kids. She wants to be free to take as many holidays and foreign trips as she pleases. I didn’t ask why. I don’t care. But I needed someone here permanently to care for Lucie if I’m to have her all summer.

I get that Gemma can walk away from me, but to walk away from Lucie too? That, I can’t understand. I might not be the most present father, but I love my kids more than anything in the world.

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