Page 11 of Take A Chance

I expected pink—pink walls, pink comforter, something girly. What I saw was more of the monotone floral wallpaper and oversized furniture. The bed was made tidily, the floors clean. There were no children’s things here either, with the exception of one very organized bookshelf along the north wall that had a stack of board games and three shelves of books. The lamp reminded me of something I’d seen in my grandfather’s study when I was a child.

“Where are your toys?” I asked, entering the room. “Do you have dolls? Or maybe you have stuffed animals.” I watched Katelyn shrug.

“These are my toys.” She pointed at the shelf of games. “I have this,” she said, pulling open a drawer in her dark mahogany dresser. She carefully lifted a bear out of the drawer. It looked like it hadn’t seen much play time, though it was missing an eye. She held it tenderly with care, not like a young girl would hold a treasured teddy bear. “My mother gave it to me when I was born. I keep it here to be safe. Mrs. Pilcher tried to throw it away once because she said it was full of germs, but I like it.”

“Could I see it?” I asked, tiptoeing closer to her. She nodded and handed me the bear. It had the year stitched into the foot, the year Katelyn was born. “It’s a very nice bear. You’ve taken such good care of it.” I handed it back to her and began to realize how sterile of an environment Mrs. Pilcher ran. Maybe she had come out of the Spanish flu or something, but hiding away stuffed animals because they were “full of germs” was so antiquated I wondered where Blake had found the old bird.

“Thank you.” Katelyn put the bear away and asked, “Do you want to play?” She rushed over to the shelf and pointed at the board games. “We have Candyland and Chutes and Ladders. I really like to play cards, though, but I don’t know where Mrs. Pilcher keeps them.” She spun around and waited on my answer with hope in her expression.

“How about a game I know?”

“A game? Sure!”

I held out my hand, and she took it. I led her to the bed, where we kicked off our shoes and sat facing each other cross-legged. “Now you do this.” I gave her a high-five. “Then clap. Then do this,” I coached, giving another high-five. It was basic patty-cake, but I had learned more complex moves and played this game with my siblings a lot when I was younger. “Now keep doing it.” We got in a good rhythm, with Katelyn giggling, when I started to teach her some more sophisticated moves.

“I like this game!” she squealed.

“You haven’t gotten the best part yet.” I laughed with her and tried to keep up the hand motions as my arms tired. “There’s a song. It goes, Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack, all dressed in black, black, black, with silver buttons, buttons, buttons, all down her back, back, back...” I continued the chant as we slapped hands. A few times, she missed and scowled at herself, but I paused the chant and kept her going.

The longer the game continued, the louder we got, laughing and chanting, until I heard a cough at the door. “Katelyn, Greta needs you for your chess lesson in the den. Please don’t keep Mr. Wiseman waiting.”

The smooth baritone of Blake’s voice vibrated the air and met my ear, inciting a rush of adrenaline that had my cheeks hot and my chest tight. Katelyn grabbed my hands and pouted.

“But Father, I want to play this game with Emma.” Her bottom lip stuck out. “I don’t want to do chess lessons today.” She huffed out a sigh, and we both looked at Blake. He raised one eyebrow—that was all it took. Katelyn looked like she’d been scolded badly. Her eyebrows rose and she blinked hard. “I’m sorry, Father.” She slid from the bed and straightened her skirt, then put her shoes back on.

Blake stood speechless as she tied the laces expertly and then turned to me. “Thank you, Ms. Emma, for teaching me the game. I would like to play it again with you tomorrow, if that’s okay. I have to go now. Goodbye.” She bowed at the shoulders and raced out of the room.

She was gone, and I was left wondering at the sudden shift of demeanor. The happy, lively girl whom I’d coaxed out of her shell had become as rigid and curt as the man standing across the room staring at me. With hands crammed into his pockets, he appeared more like a political figure than a father. I wondered for a split second what sort of father he actually was. Katelyn had no toys, no comfortable room. It sounded like the former nanny had never seen a child, let alone raised one.

“It looks like you are getting along with Katelyn nicely. Have you settled in okay?” Despite my annoyance with the situation surrounding his daughter, I still found the man to be near irresistible. The sound of his voice did things to me, perhaps because he had done things to me. Very inappropriate things for a boss to do to his employee. Things my body was now saying it wanted simply because of his proximity and our very real privacy.

“Uh, yes.” I turned and dropped my feet to the floor. My slacks and sweater weren’t exactly the sort of clothing I thought a nanny wore, but it was my first day and my wardrobe was limited. I picked up my shoes and straightened, expecting him to say something else, but he nodded once and walked away, leaving me dumbstruck. This was the oddest house I’d ever visited, and now I was forced to call it my home.

Well, if he thought I would handle things the way Pilcher did, he had another thing coming. Katelyn deserved to be a child, and I intended to switch things up a bit. I headed to my room to make a plan.

Hours later, after dinner had been shared, without Blake present, and Greta had given me the rundown of the evening routine, I found myself alone in my room again. Katelyn required a bath and a bedtime story. We’d brushed her teeth and done flashcards to work on her addition problems, and finally, when she had nodded off, I was free to do as I pleased. I put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, ready to crash in bed, but my stomach growled.

Despite dinner being delicious, the bird-sized portions left me hungry. It was late. I expected that everyone in the house was sleeping or had turned in already, so I snuck out of my room, careful not to make any noise to wake Katelyn down the hall, and I tiptoed down the stairs. The floor was cold against my bare toes, and I wished I’d had the sense to at least put on socks. I would have to remember to buy slippers and a house robe when I got my first paycheck.

The kitchen was in fact empty. The lights were off, except for a light under the cabinet to the left of the fridge. I padded over to the giant stainless steel contraption that resembled an industrial ice box and pulled the door open. The fridge had a ton of fresh produce and pre-packaged meals. I hoped for maybe a bit of cheese and salami, but it looked like Greta was a whole-foods, non-processed sort of woman. There weren’t even any granola bars in the cupboards I rifled through. I at last found a package of cookies hidden behind a box of organic macaroni. It appeared one of the staff members had hidden it from view. I took a few out and immediately plunged one into my mouth just as I heard glass shattering.

Blake muttered a curse at a low volume, but I heard it. I hurried down the hall to make sure he was okay. It was dark. Light streamed from one door left open, and as I rounded the corner and rushed in, he shouted at me at the same time.

“Stay back!”

I felt the glass shard embed itself into my foot as I took one step too many. I dropped my cookies and moaned with my mouth full of the sweet treats. “Ow.” Tears instantly came to my eyes as I lifted my foot off the ground and leaned on the small leather armchair situated by the door.

Blake said nothing. He was crouched by a puddle of liquid and a mess of glass splinters. He dropped the pieces he had picked up and dusted his hands off, then stood and strutted over to me.

“I stepped on it. God, it hurts.” Tears streamed down my face, and he didn’t hesitate to scoop me up.

He was strong. He hefted me like I was a paperweight, swinging me around and turning toward the hallway. I had no choice but to comply with his actions. I gripped his neck and blinked more tears out. His jaw was set and his eyes full of fire.

“I tried to warn you.”

“I’m sorry. Oh, God, my foot is getting blood everywhere.” I looked over his shoulder at the trail of droplets following us on the marble floors.

Blake entered another room, flipping the light switch on. The brightness of the lights made me blink, my eyes having adjusted to the night atmosphere of the house. He set me on a vanity in one of the largest bathrooms I’d ever been in. It was larger than Allegra’s entire apartment. He left me sitting there gawking at the way my blood puddled on the floor as he searched a cupboard for something.

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