Page 2 of Nanny for the Single Dad Cowboy
I slip into the back of the conference hall, my jaw aching from how hard I’m grinding my teeth. Onstage, Matt is already holding court, his voice booming through the speakers as though he coded a single line of the system he’s bragging about.
The suits eat it up—all of them too busy calculating profits to notice the cracks under the glossy sales pitch.
And then my gaze snags on him.
He’s in the third row, off to the side, not in a suit, not even close. A worn flannel rolled up to his forearms, dark jeans, boots planted wide as if he doesn’t care whose feathers he ruffles. He looks rugged and out of place, watching Richard with the kind of steady focus that makes me wonder if he actually sees through the performance.
He doesn’t take notes or whisper to the guy beside him, just sits there, arms folded, broad shoulders relaxed as though he’s got all the time in the world.
My heart annoyingly stutters. He’s handsome—there’s no denying it. Strong jaw, sun-browned skin, hair cropped close butnot military neat. There’s an edge to him, something rough that doesn’t belong in a polished tech summit.
I drag my eyes away, scoffing under my breath. He’s just another distraction, a good-looking man I don’t have time for. At least not tonight. Not when my career is dangling by a thread because Richard decided to steal and ruin my work.
I focus back on the stage, but the image of him lingers, stubborn as smoke.
AegisTech concludes their presentation, and if the applause is any indication, it’s a resounding success. They have no idea they’ve just been sold a faulty system. Richard soaks it in, shaking hands, basking as if he just walked on water. Matt grins widely as he collects business cards like candy on Halloween. As for me, I’m invisible, standing aside, discarded, meaningless.
All of a sudden, the room feels suffocating. I need to get out of here. I turn toward the exit, already desperate for air, when Richard’s voice cuts sharply. “Tessa, a word.”
I stop, my stomach sinking as he motions me back toward a shadowed corner of the ballroom, away from the stragglers still lingering. He doesn’t waste any time digging into me. “What the hell was that earlier? Cornering me right before one of the biggest moments of this project? Do you have any idea how unprofessional you looked?”
Me unprofessional? How about you and your stupid minion?
I bite the inside of my cheek. “I was trying to stop you from lying to a room full of executives.”
His smile is knife-thin. “Lying? No, sweetheart. That was selling.” He straightens his tie, lowering his voice as if he’s scolding a child. “You want to be taken seriously in this industry? Learn your place and stop making me look like I can’t control my team.”
Heat creeps up my neck. I fold my arms, hoping it hides how my hands shake. “It was my project, Richard.”
“Was. Now it’s the company’s project. And if you don’t like how I run things, maybe you’re not cut out for this level.” He leans in, his voice dropping into a sneer. “You’re lucky I don’t pull you off the roster altogether.”
The humiliation burns hotter than my anger. He’s not just stealing my work; he’s making me the problem. Again.
I swallow the scream lodged in my throat, meeting his smug eyes with every ounce of steel I have left. “You need me. You’re not going to get rid of me.”
His nostrils flare, eyes ablaze with fury. He knows I’m right. I’m one of the few people with half a brain at AegisTech. He wouldn’t even have something to sell were it not for me. He hates that I know my worth, but he still tries to conceal it.
His laugh is short, cruel. “Watch me.” Then he’s gone, off to charm another suit, leaving me raw and vibrating with rage.
I stand there, trembling, until the weight of it tips. Fine. If he wants to humiliate me, I’ll humiliate him back. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow. But one day. Soon.
For now, I’ll settle for something smaller, something immediate. A little revenge to take the edge off. I pull the company card from my pocket and slide it into my clutch. I’m only supposed to use it for business-related purchases, but I’m feeling petty. Richard Kane can pay for my drinks tonight.
I stalk through the corridor, boots striking hard against the polished floor. Each step pushes Richard’s smug grin further behind me, but not far enough. My fists are clenched around the slim strap of my clutch, company card tucked safely inside.
I round the corner too fast and slam into something solid, jarring enough to make me stumble.
“Shit, sorry,” a man’s voice says, low and steady.
I look down and freeze. It’s the same guy I was checking out earlier, but... he’s in a wheelchair, broad shoulders filling the space above the armrests, one hand raised as if he might catch me if he could. He looks even more out of place now, but with an air of calm around him, as though colliding with me barely registered.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you,” I apologize, a bit too briskly.
His mouth quirks into an almost-smile. “It happens. I should’ve slowed down.”
His voice carries that steady drawl, the kind that sinks into your skin—quiet but impossible to ignore. He’s not from here, and not just because of how he’s dressed; his accent gives him away. It’s giving southern charm as compared to the Washington DC dicks I’ve been forced to hang around with all day.
For a second, my anger wavers. There’s something about his eyes—dark, assessing, as if he sees more than he should. But I can’t afford to stop. Not now. Not when everything in me is already cracked open and raw.
