Page 12 of The Darkest Knight

Brooke’s giggle is pure magic—light, bubbling, and filled with joy. She throws her tiny arms around me.

"Oh, sweetie." I'm taken aback. Brooke and I are close, even though I see her infrequently. I'm glad Anna isn't here, because I don't sense that bond between Brooke and her nanny. “What was that for?"

"I love you," she says, matter-of-factly, as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

Her words catch me off guard. "I ... love you too," I manage, my voice soft. She’s just a little girl, but she means more to me than she should. Ever since Mom got sick, I’ve beenthinking too much about what it meant for a child like Brooke to lose her mother. A child who was barely one year old at the time.

Anna returns, and we chat briefly while Brooke makes herself at home in my chair, happily coloring. I pick up her battered elephant from the floor.

“Is Elephant coming with you?” I ask.

“Yeah. He goes everywhere.”

“Just don’t lose him, okay?”

"I'll hold on to him for you," Anna says, taking the toy from me.

"Make sure she doesn't lose him.” I fear that Brooke will get separation anxiety if she ever loses her cuddly toy, but I realize I'm overstepping my mark. Anna’s the nanny, not me. But the thought of Brooke not having her comfort toy twists something in me.

“You didn’t go to this party last year, right?” I ask Anna.

“Nope. I wasn’t here then.”

I nod, remembering the revolving door of nannies. Brooke gets a new one every year, or so it seems. It’s no wonder the poor kid clings to her stuffed elephant. I glance toward Jett’s office. I only deal with him during business hours, and that’s hard enough. Anna has him twenty-four seven. How does she survive?

My stupid crush doesn’t help. Every time he walks in wearing one of those suits, looking like a dream I shouldn’t dare have, my heart races. It’s embarrassing. Unhealthy. I wonder if anyone’s noticed. Probably not. It’s not love—it’s just ... a little obsession.

"I hear it's meant to be a lavish occasion."

"I'm going for the free drinks and food,” Anna says.

"You'll have fun," I tell her, then loudly, in Brooke’s direction, "I hear there are reindeer there this year."

"There were reindeer there last year," Brooke says, as if its normal.

Jett reappears, phone glued to his ear. “Are we ready?” he asks, briefly pulling the phone away.

Anna nods. “Come on, Brooke. Time to go.”

"Do what you want," Jett snaps into the phone, presumably at Dina. “If you don’t want to come to the kids’ party, join us later at the hotel.” From the sound of it, she’s not keen.

I kneel beside Brooke. “Do you want to take the coloring book with you?”

“May I?”

“You may.” I tap her nose, smiling as she clutches her toy and coloring book.

My ears are on high alert, rather like a doberman’s. It’s wrong to eavesdrop, but I can't help it.

We stand there in silence, waiting for Jett to finish his conversation.

"Come if you want to, or don't if you don't want to." He presses the button to end the call. “Ready, sprout?” Jett holds out his hand. The sight of them—father and daughter, so effortlessly bonded—stirs something inside me. My chest tightens, and goosebumps prickle my skin.

“Yes!” Brooke beams.

"Have fun sweetie," I say.

"Can't you come?" Brooke pleads again.

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