Page 67 of Mr. Wolfe's Nanny

She rises from the table, starts pacing. “Too crazy to even send a text?” Well, when she says it like that… “I’m not who you should be apologizing to either.”

My guilt over disappointing Ryder surges but, with it, misplaced anger’s mixing in. I can only be in so many places at once. I’m not Superman. This fucking nightmare of a week and a half has become a boil in need of lancing.

I rake my fingers through my hair, trying to suppress the frustration I feel. “I know.”

“I assume your father is doing alright?”

“Yes, he’s fine. I left him at the hospital around six.”

“I know. Your mother called me,” she snaps. “She wanted to know if Ryder won.”

Well, don’t I feel like an even bigger piece of shit? “There was an emergency board meeting. I thought it’d be over in time. I fucked up, alright? But I can’t undo it and, given the same scenario, I can’t promise a different outcome, Quinn. Sometimes, I’m forced to make choices I don’t always like with my position. The board wasn’t going to wait for Daddy to get back from the school chorus concert. There were fires to put out and I was the man who had to do it.”

“Fires to put out at a board meeting? Sounds heroic. Be sure to tell your son that. I’ll bet you heard it as a child, too.”

She’s right and that pisses me off even more. “So, I’m a shitty dad, is that it?”

“No, I didn’t-”

“Fucking hell, Quinn. Do you think Iwantedto miss it? I’ll talk to him. I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to him. Is he asleep?”

“Would I be down here if he was still awake?”

Clearly, she’s angry but other emotions are bubbling at the surface I can’t put my finger on. She’s pacing and, if she would pace a little closer, I could get my hands on her. Not that I deserve to touch her but it would soothe my own raging emotions.

“After all, you pay me for round-the-clock childcare five days a week when you’re busy fighting fires and conquering the corporate world.”

Ouch. It’s true but being reminded that the woman I’m sleeping with is also being financially compensated for caring for my kids isn’t what I want to hear right now. “You make it sound like you’re no more than my employee,” I growl, shoving off from my spot at the kitchen island to intercept her and her pacing.

Those hazel eyes flash with temper when I block her movements. “Isn’t that the case? I’m the nanny whose job it is to raise your children. What we do on the side is a perk of the job, I suppose.”

“It’s more than-”

“Because by not showing up tonight or replying to any of my texts, Theo, that’s exactly how you made me feel. Like the nanny who you happen to fuck. Like I… I mean,wearen’t what matters to you.”

“That’s bullshit, Quinn. You know how much-” I reach for her wrist but she shakes me off.Let me touch you, please.

“It’s nearly ten-thirty! I’ve been out of my mind wondering where you were or what you were doing. I’m freaking out over stuff we need to talk about, too. You should’ve-”

“I should’ve fucking called or texted! Message received, alright?!”

Great, I just yelled at her. It’s fading echo dies and we’re both standing here, breathing hard. A foot apart but not touching. I suck in a ragged breath, praying I can diffuse this and not make it worse. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. Are you okay?”

“I’m not that fragile,” she huffs but, for the first time, she softens, too. I’ll take that as my chance to bridge the distance.

“Quinn, sweetheart,” I murmur, so relieved when she allows me to cup her cheek. “I should’ve called. I’m sorry. You fucking matter, okay? All three of you do. I missed the good stuff tonight, I missed what matters most but things are precarious at work right now. I can’t just turn my back or I’ll wind up with a knife sticking in it.”

Her eyes widen.

“Metaphorically, speaking.”

She has to fight a smirk that wants to appear.

Her hand comes up to close around my wrist and, for a horrible moment, I fear she’ll shove me away. She doesn’t. She strokes the inside of my wrist with her thumb and our mouths are so close now. “He was so happy when he won. I wish you could’ve seen that.”

Her eyes well with tears and I’d rather walk barefoot across broken glass than for her to think I don’t care or for Ryder to imagine that even for a second.

“Did you take a picture for me?” I ask next, my throat so tight it aches.

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