Page 52 of The Billionaire & the Nanny: Vol. 3

The midsummer rain comes down hard one July afternoon as I’m returning home from work. I don’t ever need to sleep over the Housens’, which works for me, since I’ve been fixing up my apartment to look nice anyway. It’s not until I’m all the way to my door do I notice the Lamborghini parked outside my building and why it’s there—sitting at the end of the hall holding a big bouquet of pink and white roses is Logan Raider .

“Jesus, you scared me!” I press my palm to my exploding chest .

“I would’ve waited downstairs, but it’s pouring outside.” That smile, that torturous look he somehow pulls off as charming every time. “As you well know .”

My heartbeat races inside my body, pounding my ribcage so hard I feel like I’m going to pass out. I hold onto the door frame in the open doorway. Five thousand thoughts pummel my mind at the same time. “What…what are you doing here, Logan ?”

“I wanted to see you .”

“Just because you want something doesn’t mean you can get it without permission.” I cross my arms. Hold tight, Paisley. You’ve suffered enough .

“I should’ve called first, but I was in the neighborhood. I figured I’d drop by .”

I stare at him so dumbfounded, so unbelievably shocked, I can’t speak. It’s really him right here in front of me. I’ve thought of him every single day for months—every morning, every night, and every moment in between. I was only now starting to get over him. Why is he here ?

“Fine, I wasn’t in the neighborhood.” He climbs to his feet and walks over to me slowly. “I’ve been meaning to call you for a while now but knew I had to see you in person first .”

“How did you know I lived here ?”

He chuckles lightly. “Come on, Paisley .”

Stupid question. He’s a billionaire. His money opens doors everywhere. If anyone should have first-hand experience with that, it’s me. He hands me the roses, and all I can do is stare at them. They’re, without a doubt, the most spectacular roses that money can buy. They smell amazing, too. “Thank you, but I can’t accept them.” I enter the apartment to breathe in clean, un-stifling air .

“Paisley, I know I hurt you. I haven’t stopped thinking about it for seven months.” Logan lingers in the doorway without coming in. At least he’s waiting to be invited instead of taking whatever he wants. Has he changed ?

“Why didn’t you call me, then? Why now, Logan?” I fling my hand aimlessly. I’m reeling from the sight of him after all this time. “Come in. Close the door, please .”

He does and walks in, setting the roses down on my little kitchen counter .

“Beautiful apartment. It suits you.” He towers over me, still as tall and handsome as ever, though his eyes are sadder .

“Why now, Logan? Why wait so long to come see me ?”

“I thought we needed the time. You were right—we never should’ve gotten together when we did, but I’m grateful that we did. Or else, I might never have fallen in love with you .”

Fallen in love. With me .

I face him, balancing my ass on the edge of the sofa. Much like the way I feel right now. “Logan, this is crazy. You have no idea how hard it’s been for me. I had to pick up so many pieces. I had to deal with the media, something I never asked for, I haven’t spoken to my father since that day, I’ve had to get angry at you in order to forget you. I had to take part in an ethics class at work, because of what we did.” It all comes out of my mouth like a torrent of rain. “You’ll never understand .”

“And yet, you still work with Le Nanny. Because they know how wonderful you are. Because they know it was mostly my fault…Fine, all my fault. But Paisley, I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t get you off my mind, as hard as I’ve tried. I did what I always do—I immerse myself in work to forget about life, and guess what? Even that failed. On the contrary, work became you .”

I think about the building that finally finished going up this week sitting down there along the banks of the Hudson, in the harbor, a building that many think is an homage to Lady Liberty but he and I and that old lady in the park all know that it’s me .

“I’m obsessed, Paisley.” He comes up to me and holds out his hands. I look down at them. Big hands. Thick fingers. I’ve missed them. I’ve missed those fingers and the way they’d take mine like I was a little girl to be cared for. “The kids miss you, too. I couldn’t hire anyone after you .”

He couldn’t ?

So he’s been taking care of the kids himself? “Who’s watching them?” I ask .

“My aunt and I take turns. They don’t want anyone but you, Paisy.” He says my nickname, and I nearly break into tears. God, I hate this. I hate falling apart when I most need to hold it together .

“You hurt me.” The words escape my lips. It’s fine. He needs to know it .

“I know.” His hands slip into mine. “I’ve been in therapy. It’s one reason why I’ve waited this long to see you. I wanted distance between the whole divorce debacle and now. I wanted to start clean without tons of overbearing stress on top of us. I wanted to make sure I could truly be different than who I was before. You deserve better than that .”

“I did,” I mutter, amazed that he’s taken these steps and thought this through. “I still do .”

He nods, brushes away my tears with one thumb. “I wanted to be that man for you, because I knew that’s what you’d want. The time apart was critical. Forgive me ?”

---