I turn to walk out, determined to fix this fucking colossal mistake before it gets to the point of no return, but I feel Grant’s large hand grab me at the elbow, halting my move. “Bridget, calm down. Where are you going?”
I turn my head to look him in the eye. “This is such a bad idea, Grant. I can’t be here. I’ve kissed you,” I whisper. I’ve kissed him plenty, but this is a step too far. This is their home. Their daughter is here. I think about my parents, and what my mom has felt all these years with the betrayal of my father, and I instantly feel sick. I’m the other woman. I’m the interloper.
“Bridget, I might technically be married, but that relationship has been over for years. I don’t give a fuck about Chelsea. It’s Isabella I want to protect. Do you understand that?”
“Of course. That’s why I think this is a bad idea.” I can’t do this to her. What will she think of me?
“You’re my employee. She won’t know anything beyond that. Ever.”
His words sting. He’s right and I know what he says is true, but it still hurts. No girl who’s been kissed by a man wants to be referred to as just his employee. Especially not one who’s finding herself falling for her boss.
I’m the loser in this equation.
“You’re right. I am your employee, and you are my boss, and we have work to do. Let’s get things going. I have things to do tonight.” I walk past him, tall and determined.
“Hold on. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
I stop and turn to him. “You didn’t hurt me, Grant. I’d never let you.”
He flinches slightly at my harsh tone but doesn’t say another word as he leads me toward a closed door. “This is my office. If you’d like to get set up, I’ll go check on Isabella and relieve the nanny.”
I nod.
Ten minutes later a concerned Grant comes barreling through the door. “Isabella is running a fever too. She failed to mention that. She’s been such a great nanny up until recently.”
“Where is she?” I ask, standing to follow him. I have very little experience with children, but I remember what my mom did for me when I was sick.
Grant walks us down a hall, stops outside an open door, and moves aside for me to enter. The room is beautifully decorated in pale shades of pink. A large canopy bed is situated in the middle of the room, and lying atop a mound of fluffy covers is a little girl. I move toward her sleeping body. Putting my hand to her head, I find that she is, in fact, running a fever.
“Do you have a thermometer?”
“I have no idea.”
“Does Chelsea have a medicine cabinet for Isabella’s medications?”
“I believe Margret has a cabinet in the kitchen with Tylenol and some other things.”
“Great. Grab me some children’s Tylenol, a thermometer if you have one, a towel, and cool water.”
He nods and leaves. Several minutes later he comes back with a box full of the items I asked for, thermometer included.
“Her fever is high, 103.5.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we need to get meds in her and get the fever down.” I shake Isabella lightly to wake her. When her little eyes blink open, she’s confused and a little alarmed to see my face first, a stranger. “Hi, Isabella. I work with your dad.” I motion my head toward him so she can see he’s there. “I came to help you feel better. Can you sit up for me?”
She shakes her little head. “Who are you?” she questions.
“I’m Bridget. Can you open your mouth and take this for me?”
She opens her mouth and I dispense the Tylenol. “Good girl. Okay, now I need to put this towel on your forehead. It will be a little cold, but it will help you feel better. Is that okay?”
“O-Okay,” she whispers in a little voice.
I position the damp towel on her forehead and help fluff the pillows so she’ll be comfortable.
“Can you read me a story?”
I look at Grant, hoping he’ll help me, but he’s no longer there. “Sure,” I say, not wanting to upset this poor little girl. “Do you have a favorite?”
She nods. “Can you read that one?” She points to a small table and on top is a book called Fancy Nancy something or other.
“Of course.”
She scoots over and pats the bed for me to sit with her, so I do. We get comfy and I begin reading the story. Before too long, Isabella is asleep, her head resting on my arm. I look down at her and smile. She’s such a cute kid. When I raise my gaze, Grant is standing against the doorframe with an odd look on his face. I can’t tell whether he’s upset or not. I immediately feel awkward and out of place.
“She’s asleep. Can you help me move her?”
He comes to my side and obliges. I tuck her little body in and check her forehead. The fever has gone down.
“She’ll be good.”
“Thank you, Bridget. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He leans in, placing a small kiss on my cheek. My body heats at the gesture.
“I’m happy to help.”
Our eyes lock, and there’s no mistaking the fire burning in Grant’s eyes. If I just leaned in a little more . . . Before I have another second to contemplate it, Grant moves, his lips gentle on mine. I pause for only a moment before opening to him. Our tongues caress each other, losing ourselves in the moments, neither of us gives a thought to his sleeping child or the fact we’re in his home . . .
Chelsea’s home.
As soon as that crosses my mind, the moment is broken. I quickly step back, breaking our connection. “I-I’m sorry. That was . . . a horrible thing to do.”
“Bridget, please. You did nothing. I initiated the kiss. I needed to kiss you.”
“Why?”
“The way you were with Isabella. You were so caring. Chelsea can’t be bothered with her and it kills me. I do my best to give her all the love she needs, but I can only do so much. I try. I really do, but it’s not enough. I want to give her the world.”
His words affect me greatly. How can a mother not care for her child? The thought makes me sick to my stomach, but his love for his daughter warms my heart at the same time. I can see how much he loves that little girl and it endears me to him.
“I really am sorry, Grant. She deserves better than that. You deserve better than that.”
“She loves you,” he says, motioning toward the sleeping Isabella.
“She’s a kid. I read her a story. Of course she likes me.” I laugh.
“It’s more than that. She takes a while to warm up to people, but she didn’t with you.”
“I like her. She’s special, Grant.”
He beams. “She’s my world. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”
I want to ask just how much he’d do for her. Would he stay in a loveless marriage? He alluded to the fact they’re together but not together in the sense of a true marriage. Perhaps he stays for Isabella. I can tell how much he loves her, and it’s clear nothing would ever come between them, especially a woman. I know how important a father is to a little girl. She needs him as much as he needs her.
“Since you’re here I have a few papers in my office I’d like to go over with you. Can you stay?”
I nod, and he inclines his head before walking down the hall. I follow, eager to get my mind off him and back to work.