Page 26 of Single Dad Billionaire Boss

Zoe ran for the Fatty Chicken plush, tucked it under her arm, and climbed back in the bounce house to jump. She tossed the stuffed animal in the air a few times, and soon it came sailing out over the top and landed on the coffee table.

“Chicken over the rainbow,” Ella said.

“You don’t see that every day,” I replied, cutting my eyes at her.

“You’re going to if you have that bounce house indoors.”

“So will you. You’re the nanny.”

“Yeah, but I’m going home as soon as the roads are clear. You’re stuck here with the bounce house while it’s still new. It’ll be nonstop jumping. That chicken and its buddies the eel and vulture are going to be like missiles!”

“Vera and whatever his name is are back at home,” I said, and Ella smiled wryly.

“You really think I didn’t pack them? Knowing how meaningful they are to your family?”

“I should’ve had Marsha look for signs of pure evil during your background check.”

“Is it evil to make sure your whole family is together for the holidays?” Ella asked. “The narwhal and monkey came because Zoe sleeps with them. She wanted to bring Vera and Eva too. I’d never discourage her creativity. Part of my job description is to foster imaginative play opportunities. In fact, I think it’s in the binder.”

I laughed. “We can check that back home.”

“Oh, I brought the binder, too,” Ella said with a roll of her eyes. “You can’t expect me to undertake something as serious as a road trip without the ultimate survival guide.”

“You’re ridiculing the binder. I’ll have you know, I spent hours compiling a comprehensive—”

“FBI-level dossier on your own child? Were you leaving her with a sitter or turning her over to scientists planning to study her?”

“Historians. For a comprehensive biography.”

“Be sure to send the biographer video footage of Uh-Oh, the flying chicken.”

“Uh-Oh?”

“That’s what she yells every time she lets go of the chicken while she’s jumping. I think we should name it that.”

“Uh-Oh it is, then. Should I expect a sequel toTheAdventures of Vera and Eva?”

“Obviously. We’ll set up Uh-Oh in some funny poses and make up a story to go with the pictures. Count on it for a Valentine’s present.”

“That sets the bar high. It isn’t every guy that gets a custom-made book about his kid’s ugliest stuffed animals.”

Ella grinned. “Like I said, fostering imaginative play.”

I got the stockings from the mantel. Zoe dove in first, squealing over the markers and animal toys and stuffing sour gummies in her mouth. Usually, I put a couple of things in my own stocking so Zoe wasn’t suspicious about Santa, but this year, my stocking was full. Digging into it, I found a narwhal and mermaid coloring book to do with Zoe, climbing tape, some good sunscreen, a hole punch, and a box of adhesive hole-reinforcers for paper used in a binder—I couldn’t help smirking at Ella for that one. Further in, there was cinnamon gum, a travel-size skin balm for razor burn, and finally, in the toe of the stocking, a nice pen with a green marbled barrel perfect for writing notes. I caught Ella’s eyes and mouthed,Thank you, even though her smile told me she already knew what it meant to me.

Ella’s stocking was next. Zoe had told me once that Ella didn’t like the soap in public restrooms because it dried out her hands, so in her stocking, I’d put a packet of violet-scented soap leaves, chosen because the package had purple flowers on it. There was also a bag of dried durian fruit from my trip, a paperback about building resilience in teens that was a bestseller in social work, and the stickers, pens, and sticky notes from the shop in Singapore. Ella seemed riveted by the assortment of gifts on her lap, especially the purple sticky note roll.

Zoe, on the other hand, quickly grew bored. And once she had slipped back into the bounce house, I gave Ella a gift bag. “The stationery store had a lot of stuff,” I said shyly. “I couldn’t decide.”

Watching her pore over the contents of that bag, murmuring at every little thing from the notepads to the tape and erasers, was wonderful and painful at once. The joyous smile was fantastically beautiful. I had to bite back words that wanted to be said. I couldn’t take her hands and hold them. Such an old-fashioned thing to want to do, I thought, but too obvious with intention and feeling.

“You brought Gus treats on your trip?” Ella said, and I smiled sheepishly.

“I didn’t want him to feel left out.”

“I can’t believe you haven’t tried to move his litter box out into the garage.”

“I didn’t expect you to abandon him for the holidays,” I said. “Besides, it’s Christmas, and Gus and I have a truce. I don’t bite him and he doesn’t bite me.”

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