This past year, though, it’s become obvious there’s more to our relationship than a boss and his employee or even two friends. I’m finding it increasingly hard to fight my attraction to this gold-hearted, free-spirited, selfless being who’s brought such joy and sunshine into our lives. And maybe I wouldn’t have fought it if I hadn’t been afraid I’d muck things up with Savannah the way I have with every other woman I’ve dated. Or if I hadn’t also been afraid that Beatrice would end up losing the most important person in her life.
I am under no delusions that I’m that person.
I love Beatrice with all my heart, but I work sixty hours a week and have no talent for whimsy or playing pretend. I know I’ll always be her papa and loved because of it, but I’m no Savannah. I don’t light up a room—or a little girl’s heart—when I walk into it.
So, I’ve done my best not to cross the line between friendship and something more.
And then, less than a month ago, I found Savannah balancing on the countertop in the kitchen, reaching for a bowl stored high in the cabinets. I shouted at her for not fetching the stepladder, asking if she wanted a broken neck. She yelled back that “Yes, I’ve been dying to have a broken neck for years, Colin. And now I’m about to make my dreams come true. Go away and let me make cookies. Thursdays are also an excellent day to eat sugar.”
I, however, did not go away. I fetched the stepladder, then the bowl, then Savannah off the counter. As I guided her feet back to the floor with my hands around her waist, our bodies brushed together in a way they hadn’t before. My pulse quickened, longing roared in my chest, and it took every bit of my considerable willpower to resist the overwhelming urge to kiss her.
Her breath rushed out, and her lips parted, but I was afraid to believe in the desire I saw reflected in her gaze. I convinced myself I must be imagining things. She’s young and vibrant and beautiful, and I’m a “stuffy stick in the mud,” as she’s told me many times, usually when I’m refusing to run barefoot through the daffodils at Hyde Park with her and Beatrice.
And supposing she did feel even a little of what I felt, the fact remained that propositioning an employee isn’t seemly behavior for a barrister or anyone else. As long as she’s in my house, under my roof, caring for my daughter—and for me, by extension—it would be improper to ask for more. I convinced myself I could refrain from acting on my feelings until Beatrice was of an age when it would feel appropriate to ask Savannah to join me for dinner or on a business trip. Or in my bed.
That I could maintain the status quo for another six or seven years, or however long it took to feel strong enough to survive it if she rejected me.
But her letter of resignation yesterday made it clear that I’d waited too long.
Dear Colin,
I’m so sorry to go like this, but the truth is I was afraid if I said “goodbye” face to face I might never leave. I’ve grown so attached to both you and Beatrice that I’ve lost touch with my own hopes and dreams. And while a part of me would be overjoyed to spend another three years as Bea’s nanny, another part of me knows it’s time to stop hiding in someone else’s life and go find my own.
It’s time for me to move on to the next adventure.
Please give Beatrice all of my love and promise her that I’ll never forget my favorite person in the entire universe. And that I’ll be sure to write her a nice long letter as soon as I’m settled.
With appreciation and affection,
Van
Cassie, Savannah’s sister, is studying me with the perceptiveness of a woman who knows the answers to all of the questions I can’t seem to force myself to ask.
“Van just left for the treasure hunt.” She points to a large sign hung from the posts of the picnic shelter. A giant sun is making quite the ecstatic face above the words Sunshine Toys is This Year’s Sponsor of…Happy Cat’s Spring Treasure Hunt for Love! “We love our fun around here.”
“A treasure hunt!” Beatrice cries, standing so abruptly the raccoon tumbles over as she removes her hand from his scruff. “Oh, sorry, George. But we have to go find Savannah. Come on, Papa, let’s go sign up now! Before it’s too late! We can help her win, and then she’ll be so happy she’ll forgive you for being grouchy.”
Cassie makes an awkward noise, and while I might be incredibly slow on the uptake when it comes to recognizing that I’m in love, I’m well aware that Savannah ran an adult product company before coming to England following her divorce and that this event is now sponsored by the same.