Page 22 of The Billionaire & the Nanny: Vol. 3

Paisley

T hings have changed so fast.

It’s been three weeks since I’ve been working for Logan Raider. Three weeks since he stood in the play room insisting I follow his every command, showing off his control freak side. But ever since he started coming home earlier, spending time with me and the kids, he’s changed. I don’t know if he’s testing out a softer side, or if he’s secretly sweet and was only pretending to be a dick before …

…but I love it .

The best is seeing the change in the kids. Whereas they were pains in the butt before, now they’re better at listening and following directions. I think it has to do with Daddy paying them more attention. Kids act out when they feel neglected. But Becca and Price have just blossomed. I love hearing them yell, “Daddy!” every time he gets home and watching them run into his arms .

Good job, Logan. There’s hope for him yet .

As for us, I stay a while after the kids leave or go to sleep. The sex happens almost every day when I’m at Logan’s. Sometimes it’s nothing but fucking, hard and lusty and raw—and I love it. Sometimes it’s slow and sweet and I love that in an entirely different way. Every time I think he might consider me more than a stress-release toy, he either turns inward or goes back to work .

I love being with him so much—it’s more sex than I’ve had my whole life put together in a few weeks. But…most nights, I lay awake wondering what’s going on. We haven’t done anything together other than fuck—we haven’t shared a meal, we haven’t talked about the future, and we never go out together .

Am I nothing to him but a dirty little secret ?

Or is he afraid of more ?

* * *

O ne evening,Becca and Price have just left to go to Miriam’s house without seeing their father before they go. Logan’s texted to say he’s running late, should be home soon. Of course, I stay and wait. I have no further obligation to him other than to clean up after the kids and prepare the play room for the next day they come, but I want to see him. It’s beyond a desire—it’s a need .

I freshen up, fix my hair, and change into a clean shirt without juice stains. I wait in the living room, reading my iPad until I hear the familiar footsteps coming to the door. Then comes the beep-beep-beep of the security panel recognizing Logan’s handprint. I smile, feeling a bit like a trophy wife awaiting her husband home from work .

Logan busts through the door, and right away I sense that something is wrong .

He sees me, charges right at me, and slams an opened manila envelope right on the coffee table. His eyes are on fire, his shoulders flared, jaw tense like it’s made of stone. “What is this ?”

I have no idea what he’s talking about. I take the envelope and pull out a stack of papers. Court documents? “I don’t know,” I say shakily. Though I’ve done nothing wrong, I can’t help but feel like I have. Then, I see a familiar name smack at the top of the first page …

Arnold Carrington, Esq—Law Offices of Post, Newton, & St. James

That’s my father and the law office he works for. What the hell is going on here? Why does Logan have an envelope with my father’s name on it ?

“Who do you work for?” he demands, hands on his hips .

“What?” I stammer. “I have no idea what this is about. I swear, Logan!” My heart pounds. My head begins to hurt from the sudden adrenaline rush. Scanning over the pages, I see another name—Miriam Dange-Raider .

As in, Logan’s soon-to-be ex-wife, who appears to be working with my father on this divorce proceeding .

All blood drains from my face. I have to sit down or I’m going to faint .

How could my father be working with Miriam? He’s a small-time lawyer, and she would never condescend to work with a firm so small. And yet, it seems she is …

“Are you working here just to inform about what goes on in this house? Are you spying for your father’s law firm?” he yells .

“What? No!” Sitting to catch my breath, I try to make sense of this. “Logan, you’re the one who picked me out from a lineup, remember? I swear, I had no idea my dad was her lawyer. I mean, what are the chances ?”

“I don’t know, Paisley. You tell me. It’s a hell of a coincidence, don’t you think?” His tone is accusing, angry, and part of me feels like I’m responsible, even though that’s crazy. Still, that’s my last name there paired with Ms. Dange-Raider’s. Why is my father representing her ?

And then reality comes crashing in and I realize it is no coincidence. Of course not .

The pieces are falling into place. The only thing that makes sense is that Miriam found out my father is a divorce attorney and then went and hired him simply to screw with Logan. And perhaps, me as well .

“It’s because of that day,” I say, staring at the papers .

“What day ?”

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