Page 28 of Single Dad Billionaire Boss

Chapter15

15

Ella

In my room,I FaceTimed my parents for a few minutes to let them know I had a good day but couldn’t wait to see them. Then I looked through my gifts—the pictures Zoe had colored for me, the cushion she had picked out for Gus. The big grump loved it and was already happily stretched out on it on the bed beside me. I opened a pack of notes to write Zoe a “thank you,” but when I peeled off the first page, I discovered the one beneath it was covered in Jacob’s familiar spiky scrawl. I flipped through the pad and found message after message he’d written to me while he was gone.

“Today I saw a big cartoon raindrop, the mascot for water conservation. Weirdest thing I’ve ever tried to high-five. I think the raindrop was insulted.”

“The prawns here are amazing, but chips should not taste like fish or be made of fish skin either. Beautiful place, but I still can’t wait to be home where the snack food isn’t scary.”

“In the new store, 3 things will hang at the entrance. A clock for local time, one for the San Francisco time, and a drawing Zoe gave me. A picture of her on her climber. It’s purple. So are her clothes and her hair. And guess what? She put the binder in her picture too!”

That one made me laugh.

“Not sure what’s in the spicy noodles, but I love them. I’ll find out and make them at home so you and Zoe can try them. She’ll want to put ketchup on them.”

“The view from my hotel room is phenomenal, lights stretching endlessly below me. I wish they were stars I could walk across, like stepping stones, leading me home.”

“I miss the fog, the green spaces, the steep hills, the purple sky before sunset. I miss my daughter. I miss you, too.”

“Every time I turn a corner, look in shop windows, order from a food stall, I imagine what you’d think of it, what you’d say.”

Then there was a note, an actualletter, that went on for five pages. I read it twice, fingers pressed to my lips. I was breathless, and could feel the color heating in my cheeks.

“Home is more than walls and floors, good coffee, and everything the way I like it. It’s Zoe hopping around and telling a story. It’s the way I look forward to finding a note from you the way other men live for a drink after work or a morning run. A touchstone to bring me back to myself, the person I am when I’m not someone’s boss. The man I let myself forget I was. I can’t wait to read what you have to say next. I can’t wait to see you, Ella.

“I know I forget myself writing this way, and maybe I’ll throw these in the trash before I leave. That won’t make it less true. When I FaceTime Zoe, I want to talk to you, but I know I shouldn’t. I want to hear your voice, see if you wore your hair in a ponytail today, ask you how your students are doing. Your face changes when you talk about them. I can see what hopes you have for each and every one, how worried you get thinking about all the worst-case scenarios.

“You pour every ounce of will into trying to save those kids. Even if that was the only thing that I had ever known about you, it would be enough. Seeing the wholehearted way you live your life, how you look for the best in everyone from your flaky friend Kristen to your hostile house cat right down to me. None of us deserve it or deserve you. I think I can speak for all of us when I say I’m grateful to have met you, that I had the chance to be one of those unworthy creatures you accept as we are, somehow willing us to be better with only your belief that we can be. You are the nearest thing to magic I’ve ever seen, Ella, and the only place that’s home.”

I rushed into the hall, notes in hand, to talk to Jacob, but before I made it to the stairs, Zoe cried out, “Ellie! Ellie!” as she woke from her nap. I went into her room and hugged her, reminding that sleepy girl that we were at the ski cabin and that Daddy had made it in time. I took her hair out of its messy bedtime braid from the night before and convinced her to brush her teeth before we went downstairs. We found Jacob hauling sports equipment in from a storage room.

“Snowshoeing.” He grinned, looking boyish and excited, his face flushed from the wind. “The snowstorm ended a few hours ago, forecast is clear. It’s time you learned to snowshoe. Conditions are perfect. And I have a little girl who wanted to go for a walk and look at birds.”

“I don’t have a heavy coat and stuff. You two go ahead.”

“Not a chance,” Jacob said. “You can wear one of my coats. It’ll be warm even though it’s too big.”

The three of us bundled up, put on our snowshoes, and stepped out awkwardly onto a thick carpet of blinding white snow.

“They look like tennis racquets,” I said apprehensively.

“They’re not,” Jacob said. “Step just the way I showed you. Lift your foot and set it down on top of the snow. Then pick up your other foot.”

Jacob demonstrated while holding on to Zoe’s hand. She wobbled, dragging her feet in the snow while he coached her, and after a few failed attempts, got the hang of it. I plodded along behind them, fumbling with my phone to get some good pictures. I wasn’t looking where I was going and slid off balance, plunging my snowshoe, boot, and now-wet sock into the deep snow. I cried out in frustration, barely holding onto my phone in my gloved paws. Floundering to stay on my feet, I flung my arms out as Jacob’s long legs closed the distance between us. He caught hold of me just before I tumbled face-first into the snow. I grabbed onto him with both hands, and as he set me on my feet, a smile spread across his face and his arm slid around me, drawing me to him.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you,” he said, his breath warm against my ear. I shivered, heart pounding. It was bad enough I had a crush on my boss, but the attraction between us up close was too much.

“I think I’ll go back in,” I said, my voice shaky.

I picked my way back toward the house, peeled off my wet socks, and built up the fire again. I scrolled through my phone, liking other people’s family pictures. It hadn’t been the cold or the wet socks that stopped me from snowshoeing. I was flustered by my feelings for Jacob, and being out there with them felt too much like the family I’d imagined us to be.

Later, we played a couple of board games and made spaghetti for supper. I cleaned up while Jacob gave Zoe her bath and put her to bed. It felt almost too easy, too comfortable to spend the evening that way. I made hot chocolate and curled up on the couch to stare at the fire and feel sorry for myself. Eventually, Jacob sat beside me.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“I read the notes you wrote in Singapore.”

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