Page 32 of The Billionaire's One-Night Stand Nanny
The twinkle lights were on, illuminating a mid-summer garden full of flowers. I’d covered the smallish patio table with a white tablecloth I’d unearthed from a linen closet, and it and the two chairs were lit by a pair of candles. I put the salad bowl down on one side.
“I wanted to take you out,” I said. “Show you off on my arm. But…”
I’dwantedto cook for her. It had satisfied that recently reawaked primal urge toprovide.
But also, I’d had to.
We were a secret.
“This is better,” she breathed, taking a deep breath of night air. Her breasts stretched the clinging fabric tight.
“Be right back,” I said, escaping back to the kitchen to collect myself. The steaks wereperfect. I slid them from the platter to our plates. Even if I spent most evenings making spaghetti and chicken soup and stir fry, I hadn’t lost my touch.
No, Ihaven’tlost my touch, I thought, satisfied, as Flora swiped the crust of her bread through the last of her red wine sauce, closing her eyes as she chewed.
“God, that sauce is amazing,” she said. “Didyouever think about being a chef?”
I laughed aloud.
“Me, a chef? No. Definitely not. Your half-sister does catering, you said?” She nodded. “So you know the hours she works. Weekends, nights, all hours. That was never for me.”
“Because of Maddie.”
“No,” I said, swirling the last of my drink in my glass before tossing it back. “Even before Maddie.” The wine had opened up nicely.
So had Flora. She was leaning forward, one elbow on the table, her chin propped on her delicate knuckles. She was smiling at me, relaxed, and every once in a while–enough that I thought it was probably unintentional, just a consequence of the small patio table–her foot would brush the inside of my calf. Whether she meant to do it or not didn’t matter; it had the same effect. My skin felt electric, the buzz of need an undercurrent to our casual, first-date conversation.
“I was never a risk-taker; that’s not me. Barrett, yes, he loves it. That’s why he’s in venture capital and I’m in banking.”
She nodded, looking out into the garden.
“What about you?” I asked. “Why teaching, I mean.”
“I love it,” she said immediately. “It’s hard. And it doesn’t pay well.” She frowned, and I knew she was once again thinking of the rent that was due, the job she didn’t have, the two thousand dollars she would give to her sister. No, teaching certainly didn’t pay, not enough for her to be shouldering all of that on her own, the pressure mounting until a broken glass could bring her to tears in my kitchen. “But it’s rewarding in other ways. The kids. The confidence you get to see growing over the course of the school year. They start as little kids in the fall and by the spring, you can almost see the adult they’ll be someday. Fifth graders are great. Well,” she laughed. “You know that.”
I smiled–I did–but Flora’s words made my chest grow tight, too. I knew exactly what she meant–I’d been seeing it in Maddie, and while for Flora it was a wonder, for me as her father, it was both amazing… and terrifying. Icouldalmost see the adult she’d be someday.
When I glanced over at Flora, she was looking back at me, her face soft.
“This is a really good first date,” she said, then, “What?” when I burst into laughter. “Youwere the one who insisted it was a first date, I seem to remember.”
“Yes, well,” I said. “I suppose that’s true.”
She took a sip of her wine–the last. “Thebestfirst date,” she said, more quietly, and then her eyes turned dark as she looked at me over the melting candles. “I should tell you I don’t make a habit of this,” she said, and my smile twitched at the corners of my lips.
“Of what? First dates?”
“Of sleeping with my date after them,” she said coyly, running her finger around the delicate crystal lip of her wine glass.
If she’d let me, I would cook her dinner every night. I would give her the two thousand dollars for her caterer half-sister who she loved. I would buy her an apartment.
But Flora wasn’t the kind of girl to ask for that kind of help, or even accept it when it was given. I couldn’t give her those things, but…
I reached across the table, taking her hand in mine, pulling her up to stand and drawing her against me.
I could give her this.
I tilted her face up to mine.
