Page 37 of Protecting My Nanny

"Uncle Shane's joining us for lunch, bud," I say excitedly.

"Yay!" Jaime exclaims, his face lighting up as he looks up from his game just long enough to smile at us. Then he's back to the screen, his fingers moving deftly over the device.

As I start pulling out ingredients for lunch, Shane leans against the counter, his eyes still on Jaime. "How do you think I'm doing? You know, as a parent? As his guardian?" Shane asks, his voice holding a hint of uncertainty.

"Aww, Shane. Are you concerned you're not doing well?" I reply, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone.

"Sometimes, yeah. It's just... a lot different than I thought it would be. I wonder if I'm doing enough... or too much."

I glance over at him, taken aback by his openness. Shane isn't the type to doubt himself often, especially when it comes to Jaime. But there's a sincerity in his voice that makes me pause.

"Shane," I say, choosing my words carefully, "you've done an amazing job with him. He's a happy, well-adjusted kid, and that's a reflection of you. You're not just his uncle; you're his rock. And... well, any future girlfriend of yours will feel like a queen with how much care you put into everything you do."

Shane looks at me, a flicker of something I can't quite place passing over his face. "Future girlfriend?" he repeats, as if testing the words on his tongue.

"Yeah..." I reply, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

He hesitates, then asks, "Well, what about you? What do you think you are to me?"

I feel a lump in my throat. "I don't know... I've never thought about it."

"Wait, so where did this 'future girlfriend' thing come from?" he asks, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

"I don't know. I guess I'm just giving you a woman's perspective, as someone who is... intimate with you," I stammer, cringing inwardly at my awkwardness.

"So, would you consider yourself my girlfriend? Or maybe my potential future girlfriend?" he presses, his tone more serious now.

I freeze, the knife in my hand hovering over a tomato. The question hangs in the air between us, heavy with unspoken feelings. My heart skips a beat as I meet his gaze, searching for the right words, the right way to navigate this delicate moment.

"I..." I start, but my voice falters. How do I answer that? Our relationship has been such a whirlwind—a mix of emotions, secrets, and stolen moments. I know what I feel for Shane, but putting a label on it feels... complicated. "Shane, I don't think we need to put labels on this. Not right now, at least. What we have... it's special. And I think that's enough for me."

He nods slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. There's a brief flicker of disappointment in his gaze, but it's quickly replaced by understanding. "Yeah," he says quietly. "I guess you're right."

A heavy silence lingers between us for a moment, but then Shane reaches for a slice of tomato I've just cut, popping it into his mouth with a grin. "I guess that means I get to help with lunch," he says, trying to lighten the mood.

I chuckle, handing him the knife. "Only if you promise not to cut yourself."

Chapter 17

Shane

The early morning sun filters through the blinds in my home office, casting soft patterns across the room. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air as I take a sip, flipping through contracts and investment reports. My usual morning routine these days. Working from home has become more frequent, thanks in no small part to Oliver's initiatives.

"All these years, I've just been too... stubbornly foolish to try anything new, and then you come in and change my mind in a month," I tell Oliver, speaking over the speakerphone on my desk. His new policy to offer optional work-from-home days for employees has shown phenomenal results.

Oliver's laugh comes through the line, light and easy. "Don't be too hard on yourself, Shane. It's a pretty new concept. A lot of people were hesitant to adopt it, and for good reason."

"Yeah, you're too nice. Truth is, I'm just another stubborn CEO, stuck in the past and afraid to try anything new. But you proved me wrong."

"I'm just glad to see it's working out well for the company's interests," Oliver replies, his tone modest yet pleased.

"Production is actually up, and so is morale," I say, pausing to reflect on the progress we've made. "A month ago, there was no way you could have convinced me that offering employees the option to work from home wouldn't lead to a drop in productivity. I thought people would slack off without the structure of an office environment. But the numbers don't lie. I never would've come up with something like this."

"I just followed the data," Oliver says. "Other companies have reported twenty percent increases in productivity among their remote employees, some even producing forty-three percent more business than their in-office counterparts. Figured it was worth a shot."

"The feedback from our people has been overwhelmingly positive," I add. "People are happier, more engaged. I'm sure they can't wait to see you push me out of the way," I joke.

"I'm less popular than you might think. I mean, you're Shane Matthews. Many employees are motivated to work here because they want to work with you. I'm one of them."

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