I spin around to chew her out when Graham comes waltzing into the kitchen with a big smile.
“There’s my girl,” he says, planting a kiss on Eleanor’s cheek. “How was school?” He looks up at me and winks, settling my nerves a bit. I give him an attempt at a smile, but I’m not in the mood.
“L'école était amusante,” Eleanor responds in what sounds like perfect French, but I have no idea what she said.
“I’ll be doing laundry,” I say before exiting the kitchen and grabbing Eleanor’s backpack and shoes and walking upstairs before Graham can stop me.
I know that Miss Perry’s comment to me isn’t what really has me upset. I’m upset at the mess I’ve gotten myself into because the reality is, I think it’s way more than just an exciting sexual encounter or two with Graham. Feelings are very much involved, at least on my end.
I can either swallow them down and face the facts for what they are—I’m just a nanny and a current, exciting distraction for a brokenhearted billionaire who is used to getting what he wants and when this is all said and done, I’ll walk away—or I risk it all and tell him how I feel.
20
GRAHAM
“When do I go more days to school, Daddy?” Eleanor swings her legs on the barstool as she finishes her snack.
“Not till this fall, sweetie. You’ll be six and you’ll be in class a few days a week instead of one. You like your class?” She nods her head, pushing her empty plate away from her.
I walk over and grab it, placing it in the dishwasher as Margot re-enters the kitchen. She looks positively delicious in her flirty little dress. I try not to stare but it’s no use. The small dip in the neckline draws my eyes straight to her tits. It’s not a sexy dress; it’s cute and fun, leaving me wondering what she has on underneath.
“And how was your day, Margot?” I ask, giving her a flirty smile.
“Fine.” She barely makes eye contact with me as she helps Eleanor down from the stool. “Come on, we need to go unpack your backpack and look over your assignments for the week.”
I reach out and grab her hand as she walks by, but she pulls it away and continues out of the kitchen.
What the hell was that about?
I have about two hours before the chef has dinner ready so I throw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and head outside for a run. I crank my favorite metal playlist as I pound out a quick five miles.
I’m anxious. Lately I can feel it in my chest. It’s like there’s an impending storm brewing. Normally, I’m good with stress. I can sense when something is off, but I feel out of my element and I can’t put my finger on it.
I think about Margot’s comments this morning regarding Miss Perry. I didn’t lie—technically. Yes, I fucked up royally a few years ago and slept with Fiona but it was purely physical, a release of emotions during a period of grief. Nothing more. We never had a relationship and that’s what she asked.
I push the last half mile, running at a very clipped pace. My lungs feel like they’re on fire as I double over, attempting to catch my breath.
I know what she meant. In so many words she was asking if we’d been intimate and I said no. I know it’s a detail that I should tell her, but now it feels too late, like I’ll risk losing her if I fess up now. Then again, why would it ever come up?
I wipe the sweat from my brow and turn to head back to the house to shower for dinner.
When I get inside I poke my head around the kitchen corner—no Margot, no Eleanor. I check the sitting room with the piano; nobody there either. I walk up the stairs and hear talking coming from Eleanor’s room.
“Knock, knock,” I say as I open the door.
Margot is sitting on the floor, her legs crossed, a tiara on her head and several fake rings and necklaces on.
“Daddy, nooo,” Eleanor says, standing and waving a hand toward me. “We’re playing princess and no boys can play.”
I lean against the door and smile down at Margot. She offers up a smile back, but it feels weak, sad even.
You okay? I mouth at her. She nods her head once, still not convincing.
“Okay, okay,” I say, backing out of the room. “I’ll go take a shower. I’ll see you royal ladies at dinner.” I give Eleanor a wink before jogging up the stairs to my bedroom.
It’s hard to believe that Margot only came into my life just a few months ago. She’s changed it so dramatically in such a short time and I don’t even think she realizes it.
I feel my walls coming down slowly. I crave time with Eleanor. I’m sad for all the dinners and bedtimes I missed in the last few years because I was scared of seeing her mother when I looked at her. It still stings but I can’t hide from my future anymore because of my past.
I find myself imagining a life with Margot. Expanding our family together. Traveling the world with her and Eleanor. Growing old with her.
Fear grips my heart. Is this something I really want to go through again? Risking my heart all over again?
Right now, I’m not sure, but I know that the feelings… the cravings I have for Margot are only getting stronger each day.
All through dinner I can see her avoiding me. I try to send her subliminal messages across the dinner table, but it doesn’t seem to be working. She either averts her gaze or is talking to Eleanor, her answers short and clipped when speaking to me.
“So what did you do today?” I ask her as Eleanor digs into a slice of cake for dessert. She’s fully preoccupied so I take the chance to draw something out of Margot.
“I had a few errands to run in the city while Eleanor had class.”
“Anything exciting?” I prod.
“Not particularly. Just stopped for coffee. Ran into Hank.”
My eyes snap up when she says that and this time she’s not averting her gaze. She’s staring at me, arms crossed firmly over her chest.
Ah, so that’s what this is about.
“And how is he?”
“Great. He’s very happy with my friend Shelly whom he’s dating.” Yup, she’s mad. “I set them up actually. They’re happy and in love.”
I chuckle and nod my head, her message received loud and clear.
“Come on, Eleanor. Let’s go watch your show and then get ready for a bath.” She grabs her hand as she hops down from the stool.
“Bye, Daddy. See you later,” she chirps before running out of the kitchen.
“Miss Silver, a word in my office, please.”
Margot looks up at me from where she’s seated in the sitting room. Her tea mug is almost empty and she’s nearly halfway through the book she’s reading. I hate to interrupt her little moment of peace and serenity, but I think it’s time we cleared the air about today.
I take a seat behind my desk and a moment later she enters.
“Close the door,” I say, and she obliges.
She doesn’t say anything, just stands in front of my desk, an amused look on her face.
“Please, have a seat.” I gesture. “What’s troubling you, darling?”
“You already know, so let’s not play this game.” When she has this expression on her face and her flat tone, she reminds me of a petulant teenager.
“Hank?”