“I’ll consider it, Warren,” I say. “Let me know when you plan on setting up the dinner.”
“Thanks, boy,” he says loudly. I don’t know if he tries to be insulting with everything he says. He might have fifteen years on me, but he’s not old enough to be my father. Calling me boy is his way of letting me know he’s got more power, money, and balls than me.
I work through a few other emails, then look at my upcoming schedule and chew through a contract negotiation that’s been in the works for several months.
By the time I’m done, it’s almost five o’clock and Eleanor should be home any minute. I walk over to my wet bar and pour myself a glass of bourbon, savoring the bitter flavor that numbs my tongue.
I open my office door and walk down the hallway to where I hear laughter and talking. The sounds of Eleanor’s high-pitched giggle echo through the entryway. It sends a pain straight to my heart when I think about the fact that it’s a sound that Meredith never got to experience.
I lean against the doorway, out of sight from my mother, Eleanor, and Miss Silver as they talk. It appears that Margot has instantly charmed my mother, which isn’t an easy task. She’s a lovely woman but she can be a bit guarded, especially around people who are raising her granddaughter.
“Oh, you teach music? That’s wonderful! I tried to get my Graham to stick with the piano when he was younger, but you can’t talk a bullheaded teenager into anything, trust me.”
Margot giggles and touches my mom’s elbow.
“Oh, I’ve had a few teenage boys as students who insisted playing an instrument or taking voice lessons was so uncool until I told them that girls love a man who can sing or play an instrument and suddenly they wanted two or three lessons a week.”
I grip the glass in my hand tighter. I bet those boys wanted a lot more than music lessons from Miss Silver. If I had to guess, that’s why they wanted more lessons. To impress her.
I watch as Eleanor dances around the ladies’ feet.
“Look, look what I can do!” she says as she twirls around on one foot for only a few seconds before losing her balance.
“Yay! You look like such a beautiful little ballerina!” Margot says as she and my mother clap and cheer, causing Eleanor to burst into a big smile and pretend to bow.
“I had a wonderful time with you today, sweetheart. Give grandma a hug and kiss.” My mother leans down as Eleanor runs to her to oblige her request. “Now, you go listen to Miss Margot and be a good girl. Wash up for dinner.”
My mother stands and places a hand on Margot’s arm. “It was lovely to meet you, dear. I can’t wait for you to bring Eleanor over to the house so we can have some tea and continue to get to know one another.”
Margot smiles at her, pulls her in for a warm hug, and reciprocates the desire to get to know my mother better.
I’m not sure how I feel about this, I think to myself as Margot steps back from her embrace and reaches out a hand to Eleanor.
“I’m going to go say hello to my son before heading home. You ladies have a lovely evening.”
Margot and Eleanor wave goodbye to my mother as they walk past me to go upstairs. Neither of them notice me, but I can’t ignore the way Margot’s legs look in her tight jeans. I drag my eyes lazily up them to where they meet her plump ass. I chew my bottom lip as an image of her bent over my desk swims through my brain.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” my mother says, startling me out of my trance.
“I don't know what you mean.” I sip my bourbon and turn to face my mother.
“She’s a lovely young lady, and Eleanor already is very fond of her. Don’t screw it up, Graham.” My mother gives me her best stern look, the one that says she means business. It was the same look that kept me in line through my youth.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mother.”
She gives me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek before asking me how I’m doing. I answer quickly because I know a quarter of the time, this line of questioning from her ends up with, are you dating? Have you met anyone? You need to get back out there. All of which I have no interest in talking about.
“Sir, will you be joining Miss Silver and Eleanor for dinner?” Fiona interrupts us.
“I’ll eat later,” I say, finishing the rest of my drink as my mother scowls at me.
Fiona nods and walks away, her heels clicking behind her.
“Go eat with your family. That little girl is growing up fast and you’re missing out on so much.”
I’m not in the mood.
“Mother, always a pleasure to see you.” I give her a big smile and she releases an audible sigh.
“I mean it, I like this nanny. She’s good for Eleanor. Try to remember that next time you stare at her like she’s something to eat.” She raises her eyebrow at me before straightening her back and turning to walk to the front door where her driver is waiting for her.
Miss Silver isn’t just something to eat; she’s a mouthwatering morsel that I want to devour. I look down at my empty tumbler and head back to my office for another.
If I’m going to resist temptation, I’ll need something else to tantalize my taste buds.
5
MARGOT
“Is Daddy coming?” Eleanor takes a bite of her pasta as we eat dinner at the large kitchen table.
I glance over my shoulder at Miss Perry who looks like she’s preparing a plate on the kitchen island.
“Uh, Miss Perry?”
She doesn’t bother looking up from her task when she answers. “Does it look like he’s coming?”
I snap my head around at her curt remark and turn my body to face her. “There’s no need to be rude to a child, Miss Perry. She was simply asking a question.”
The spoon in her hand clatters loudly back into the dish as she lifts her eyes to meet my gaze.
“I wasn’t being rude, Miss Silver.” She spits my name out like it’s bitter. “Mr. Hayes will be eating later, as he always does. Eleanor knows this and knows not to bother him. She’s been told this several times.” She looks down her long, thin nose at Eleanor as she says the words.
“I’m sorry, sweetie.” I reach out a hand and hold Eleanor’s in mine as her bottom lip quivers. I’m not sure if it’s in response to Miss Perry’s condescending tone or the fact that her daddy isn’t going to eat dinner with us.
“How about after dinner we play on the piano? I can teach you how to play ‘Mary had a Little Lamb.’ How does that sound?”
Eleanor nods and her pouty lip turns upward into a smile as she shovels another bite of pasta into her mouth, red sauce gathering at the corners.
“Mr. Hayes prefers silence in the evenings,” Miss Perry says as she picks up her plate and stares at me. “Perhaps you can play the piano another day.” She spins on her heel and walks out of the kitchen.
“Don’t listen to her.” I nudge Eleanor’s shoulder. “She’s just grumpy she wasn’t invited to play with us.”
Eleanor giggles and we both go back to eating our dinner. After we finish, I clear our plates and walk over to the massive freezer.
“Let’s see what we can find for dessert.” I glance around and find several pints of ice cream in the door. I hear the scrape of Eleanor’s chair on the floor as she jumps down and runs over to look at the ice cream flavors with me.