Page 43 of Love Notes & Lifelines
I shrug. “That’s the thing, there’s no way to know.”
He nods slowly but studies me so intently that I swear I can feel his gaze ghosting over my body. “We’ll make a contingency plan foremergencies.”
Crap. Oh, crap. He’s really serious about this. Guilt claws at my chest. I won’t be able to see Mom every day. On the other hand, if he pays what I need, I won’t have to kill myself trying to afford her care.
“How much do you need, Stella?”
I quickly tally my mother’s care, her meds, my rundown apartment, and all my miscellaneous bills, then blurt out a number I have no right speaking. “Twelve thousand a month.”
His lips twitch again. Don’t look, Stella. Don’t look. He’s a human solar eclipse—if you’re not careful, you’ll go blind.
“That’s one-hundred and forty-four thousand a year,” he says. Is he laughing at me?
Oh, crap. Twelve times twelve is…freaking math. I only make four thousand a month as Caleb’s assistant. And I’m close to making the same with SDH. That’s eight thousand a month, maybe I should have matched that. But I can’t. Not with the schedule of a nanny and being so far from home.
“Done,” he says, shocking me so much I lean against the wall for support.
He stalks closer with gleaming eyes, and I shift Emmy to the opposite hip.
“But—but,” I stutter and take a step to the left, tripping over the dog.
“Dang it, Daisie.” He grabs my bicep before I land flat on my face.
“My insurance. My benefits…”
“You’ll remain an employee. I’ll take care of that.” His gaze bores into me. We’re standing so close our thighs touch, and my heart rate skyrockets.
Trying to catch my breath, I inhale deeply and am hit with a hint of spice that triggers memories that are definitely not safe for work.
“Do you know why my mother named us what she did?” he asks silkily, then brushes a piece of Emmy’s hair behind her ear.
Becker and Calista? I have no freaking idea. What does that have to do with anything?
“My mother had a funny sense of humor. Our nicknames, Beck and Cally.”
It takes a moment for it to register, but when it does it comes out on a whisper. “Beck and Call.”
“Yeah.” He runs one long finger over the imprint of my mother’s hand, causing a Pavlovian response—my body will never forget his touch, but I still have no idea what the hell he’s talking about. “You’ll have your time for whatever secrets you’re keeping, but for twelve grand a month, I need you all in with the girls. I have a feeling there’s a war brewing, and I haven’t been invited to the battle.”
“What? What do you mean? With Caleb?”
“What was it you said to me? None of my business? Use that phrase here. Just promise me you’ll be available to the girls at a moment’s notice any time except your previously stated days off.”
“Beck and call,” I say mindlessly. “You want me to be at your beck and call?”
A groan escapes and he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Not mine—the girls’.”
My gaze drifts lower and is that—is he? Is he having the same reaction to me?
“I don’t know how this works with the hotline,” I say dumbly. I keep my lashes lowered—anything to not make eye contact with him again. “There’s probably a hefty fee for canceling our contracts, and she doesn’t have a nanny service yet.” Am I really trying to talk him out of this?
“Let me worry about that. Trust me, if she’d had a nanny package, it would have saved us a lot of trouble. But then again, I wouldn’t have gotten you.”
Holy hotness. Holy, holy, swoon. He’s so close, my body breaks out in a hot flush, so I speak just to keep my mind occupied.
“The nanny option is coming next year, but it wouldn’t have mattered for you because she doesn’t have anyone else right now that matches with you.”
His lips curve into a cocky grin. “You tried to get rid of me?”
