Page 23 of The Nanny and the Hothead
The couple was keeping it light—for him.
“Then it’s settled,” Ines said, relief coating her words as she shared a look with Gabe and Monica.
“What would have happened if I’d said no?” Mitch asked, eyeing the trio.
“You don’t want to go there,” Gabe replied with a cheeky grin.
“Oma’s on standby, Mitch. She’s ready to kick your ass halfway across Denver if she has to,” Monica answered.
Mitch nodded as a comforting warmth settled over him. Monica’s grandmother made him think of another no-nonsense, elderly woman who had busted his teenage ass into gear and the remarkable chain of events that the crotchety angel from his past had set into motion.
He’d most likely be rotting away in jail if it hadn’t been for her.
“There’s one last thing,” Ines said, checking her watch, then turned to Gabe and Monica. “Would you mind giving Mitch and me a minute?”
“No problem! We’ll check out the kitchen and say hello to the staff,” Gabe answered before he and Monica slipped out of the office.
“It looks like you’ve got everything figured out,” Mitch said, dropping to the club chair next to Ines.
“This is a good thing, Mitch. You can take care of getting Oscar settled and get the rough draft of your next book pulled together. This is a critical time in your life and in your career,” she answered, pinning him with her gaze.
He sank back into the chair as the totality of what was to come weighed heavy on his heart. Sure, he was Oscar’s biological father. But now he had to be a dad—and he didn’t have any idea what the hell he was supposed to do. Growing up without a mother and a father can do that to a person.
He released a weary breath. “Yeah, I get it.”
“I don’t think you do, not entirely, Mitch.”
He sat up ramrod straight.
What the hell did that mean?
“How much more is there to get?” he asked as a prickle traveled down his spine.
Ines took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. “This book is it. I haven’t been able to book anything for you in almost a year. No speaking engagements, no endorsements. Nothing.”
That hit like a punch to the gut. But there had to be more to it. There was a time when he was inundated with a barrage of offers and requests.
“It’s no secret that I opened the Crystal Cricket. I’m running a restaurant. I’m busy. That’s got to be the reason,” he shot back. But deep down, his words rang hollow.
“Nobody gives a damn if you’re busy, Mitch. If they want you, they want you,” she countered, then leaned forward, concern marring her features. “It’s my job to keep the revenue avenues open, to keep the feelers out there for you. But something else is going on. Something far worse than business opportunities drying up.”
He hardened his expression. “Just say it, Ines. You know you don’t have to sugarcoat it.”
“You’ve lost it, Mitch. I haven’t seen it in your eyes in ages,” she answered with, Christ, was that pity in her eyes?
The muscles at the base of his neck, the same muscles that had been clenched for what seemed like seven years, tensed within an inch of snapping. He was a man on the edge, ready to explode. “Lost what?” he barked. But he wasn’t an idiot. He knew the answer. He just hadn’t acknowledged it.
“Your passion, Mitch,” she replied, then rested her hand on top of his. “Remember that twenty-one-year-old kid—the one with so much zest for life? He was electric on the screen and magnetic in print. People couldn’t look away. They’d watch you cook for hours. You need to go back to the beginning and find that spark, or it’s over for you.”
The urge to flip his desk and trash his office in an all-consuming rage burned inside of him
“That kid was an idiot,” he seethed through grated teeth as it came back to him. The humiliation, the soul annihilating crush of anger and a sense of loss so profound it was as if, although he walked among the living, he’d died on the inside. Trust and love, which had once been cornerstones of not just his life but his business, shattered into a million tiny pieces in the blink of an eye.
And now, in a mere matter of hours, he’d be reminded of that old life every single day from here on out.
“No!” Ines scolded. “That kid wasn’t an idiot.”
He crossed his arms, holding it in—the pain, the anguish. “You know damned well what happened,” he said when a flash of red caught his eye.
