Not. Going. To. Happen.Chapter ElevenNot only wasn’t I going to be unwrapping my boss, I was thinking that maybe I wanted to exchange him. After another exhausting day of taking care of my young charge, soccer practice, homework, dinner, and doing some research for Miles, I finally got Henry to sleep. It only took five stories, two songs, a drink of water, and the promise of going to the park the next day. Not once had I seen Miles since that morning. I wasn’t exactly sure how this nanny thing worked, but I was pretty sure the parent should have contact with the child more than once a day. Don’t get me wrong, I hoped he was writing like crazy. I really needed that book. But it wasn’t as important as Henry, who had broken my heart when I kissed him good night and he asked where his mummy and daddy were. All I could say while I choked back tears was that they were in a beautiful place watching over him and they loved him so much.
Poor baby fell asleep clutching his bear with his lip quivering. Miles really needed to be the one comforting him and tucking him in. Not that I didn’t love doing it. I did, probably more than I should. I knew there would come a day when I would have to say goodbye to Henry, and I already couldn’t stand that thought. I pushed it to the back of my mind when I made my way to Miles’s office to hand off the monitor again.
It felt like déjà vu, me knocking on his door, him telling me to wait a minute while he hid his outline from me. Him answering his door looking worn but well in jeans and a tight knitted sweater. It didn’t help that he looked happy to see me. My heart tingled more than stung this time. Definitely not a good sign.
I handed him the monitor, skipping any pleasantries. “Henry is asleep. Good night.” I turned to go.
“Aspen, wait.”
I stopped mid-turn.
“Please come in and tell me how your day was.”
“Thank you, but I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning.”
His lips downturned. “That is a shame. Perhaps tomorrow.”
“Perhaps,” I said, only because he was my boss and I felt like saying no wasn’t the right course of action. But my plan was to prevent as much alone time with him as possible. I turned and walked away.
“Sleep well, lo . . . Aspen,” he called.
Sleep sounded so wonderful, but as I walked between the main house and the guesthouse on the cobbled stone path in the chilly night air, I received a call that unfortunately woke me right up.
“Hello.” There was no hiding the derision in my voice.
“Careful, I might think you don’t want me to call you.”
He was the last person I wanted to call me. “What do you want, Leland?” I took a seat on one of the cushioned wicker chairs on the front porch of the cottage, and tucked myself into a ball, wishing I had worn a jacket. I tried to never talk to Leland in front of Chloe in case things got ugly. Which was more likely than not.
“Same as always, to check on our daughter.”
That wasn’t always why he called. I used to get plenty of drunk calls from him a long time ago saying he was sorry and wanted me back. Then he’d sober up and call to tell me all the things I had done wrong in our relationship. I didn’t dredge it up with him. Best just to get the call over with as soon as possible. “She’s great.”
“I want to talk to her.”
“She’s not ready to talk to you.”
“She needs to get ready because I’m moving back to Colorado.”
I almost dropped my phone. My heart certainly took a plunge. “When?” I breathed out, sick to my stomach.
“Soon. I’m tying up some loose ends here and then I’ll be back. I’m taking a job at Mike Pratt’s auto body shop in Edenvale, so I’ll be close by.”
Good old Mike Pratt. He and Leland were old cronies from our high school days and were both douche bags. At last count, Mike had three baby mamas and didn’t support one of them.
“Chloe and I moved back to Carrington Cove.”
“To live with your parents?” The thought obviously gave him pleasure.
“As a matter of fact, no. I took a position with Taron Taylor.” I used Miles’s pen name on the off-chance Leland recognized his name.
“Who’s that?”
I figured it was a long shot. Leland only read the back of cereal boxes and his own lame songs. “He’s a renowned author and international bestseller.”
“So why did he hire you?”
“I’m going to forget you said that.” If not, I was going to rip into him, and he wasn’t worth the breath.