Page 49 of The Billionaire's One-Night Stand Nanny
“Weknow that you are, allegedly, perfectly happy living the bachelor life,” James said. “But do Tally’s guests?”
I swallowed. I didn’t care what Tally’s guests thought about me. But Tally…
Have you, Ryan? Moved on?
And then there was Maddie.
What kind of example are you setting for her, spending the rest of your life alone?
My head bobbed down in a slow nod. “You’re right,” I acknowledged. “No, you’re right. I should. I will.” I frowned and closed my eyes, leaning back in my chair. I needed to take a date. The problem was, there was only one woman I wanted to take.
“Smart man,” Barrett chuckled. “Let me know if you want me to set you up with someone.”
I couldn’t imagine standing next to some stranger, some friend of a friend who would look appropriate on my arm but have nothing to say to me. Or worse, some woman who would try toflirt, fluttering her lashes, thinking she was coy.
No.
The only eyes I wanted to be gazing into were bright blue, shimmering with laughter and heat.
The only woman I wanted on my arm was her.
Flora.
“You know women?” Charlie asked Barrett, incredulous.
“Iemploywomen,” Barrett said.
Charlie’s eyebrows shot up suggestively, his grin the familiar precursor to some further jibe. Barrett, too, recognized the expression.
“Not like that,Charlie, and you know it,” he growled. “At the firm. There are several women, nice enough, pretty enough, and while they’re off-limits for me, of course, Ryan’s a different story.”
“Right, you aren’t James, dating from his secretarial pool,” Charlie said with a wink.
“Fuck off, Charlie, and don’t let Edie hear you saying she’s a secretary when Iknowyou know she’s in Editorial.”
“Actually, doesEdiehave any friends you could bring?” Barrett asked, just as I was taking a sip of whiskey.
“Sure,” James said, “Flora.” I choked and coughed, whiskey burning down my throat as James laughed. “Sorry, Ryan, that was a joke. Donottake Flora.”
Charlie chuckled. “Oof. Yeah, not the greatest look, bringing your daughter’s nanny as your date.”
“But better or worse than bringing his daughter?” Barrett mused.
“Worse,” James and Charlie said in unison.
Great. Fucking fantastic.
“Thanks a lot, guys,” I said, pretending it was the joke, the whiskey, that made my face contort into a frown. I already knew that taking Flora was out of the question. That we were sneaking around, that this was–had to be–just a temporary arrangement. But I was surprised at how much it hurt to hear my friends joking around about the impossibility of it: it made a sharp, stabbing pain in my chest.
As the three of them discussed potential dates–even going so far as to suggesthiringone–I said nothing.
I had promised Flora I would tell no one.
I would keep that promise.
But I hadn’t thought it would feel like this.
* * *
