2
Trent
Black lipstick,what a strange choice for such a beautiful girl. The minute Emmi walked into the interview I knew she was trouble. Not just because she dresses in all black accessorized with a hefty chip on her shoulder, but because when our eyes met time seemed to stand still. I haven’t felt that way since Natasha’s mother, though not this intense. Never this intense.
I set Tash in front of the television—she got a boo-boo, I’ll give her an extra hour today—and hand her a popsicle. She looks so much like me that sometimes it’s alarming. How the kid grew to be seven years old in the blink of an eye is beyond me. I wish I had more time to spend with her, but the company isn’t going to run itself. With my Vice President stepping down recently to start a family, I’m on my own until I can find a capable replacement.
Speaking of which, I head to my office and fire up my laptop. There’s so much to be done on the new subdivision project. I always knew that starting my own company would take over my life, I just thought my ex-wife would be here to help me manage everything else. My fists ball at my sides thinking of how fast our marriage dissolved. Luckily for Tash, she still sees her twice a year. How a mother can part with her child for such long stretches is beyond me.
I shake the thought from my head. The last thing I want to do is fall down an anger spiral when I have so much work to do before the investor presentation. My construction company has gone above and beyond their demands, and we are being compensated for it. If only I could get my head in the game. With the out of town meeting coming up, I have to be on my A-game, but the soft curve of Emmi Sweet’s face won’t leave my mind.
I’ve never seen curves on a woman like that before. Yes, she’s young. More so in experience than in age, but her rebellious nature makes me think she’s the kind of woman that doesn’t take any shit. Her demeanor, and the way she filled out that skirt, made me hard as a rock. Having her around is going to be dangerous, which is why I didn’t want to give her the job at first. The last thing I need is some sweet, sexy attractive nanny sleeping down the hall from me. I’m sexually frustrated enough as it is without all consuming thoughts of devouring every inch of her as I sneak into her room in the middle of the night. I stiffen in my pants, pressing hard against the zipper of my jeans at the thought.
I adjust myself, and close my eyes. This is why I didn’t want to hire her. I need my attention to be fully on work. But when I saw how she was with Tash, how she dropped what she was doing and knew exactly how to handle the situation, I had no choice. Tash made it for me. If there’s one thing in this world I’d die for, it’s my daughter. I will make sure that little girl has everything she needs, and a nanny who is a good mother figure is at the top of the list.
It’s impossible to accomplish anything when I’m this worked up. I close my laptop and pop into my bedroom, throw on my gym clothes and let Tash know I’m going downstairs to the gym. My stomach is in knots thinking of Emmi’s smile. The way she crossed and uncrossed her legs during the interview. How hard it was for me to keep my eyes trained on hers and not gaze down at the hint of cleavage she kept flashing me. I doubt it was on purpose, but it got me hot nonetheless.
I wrap my knuckles and head over to the punching bag. Angst like this won’t be cured with a simple run. I need to take it out on the bag. As soon as my knuckles make contact with the bag, my tension eases. With each punch I throw, I set my mind straight. “Fuck.” I grunt, punching the living hell out of the bag. My shoulders ache. Sweat drips down the sides of my face as I dance around the bag.
Right jab. Left jab. Hook. Uppercut.
There’s something so carnal about her energy. Instantly I wanted to scoop her into my arms and kiss her until she’s weak. Until we’re both weak. How could someone I met just minutes ago make me feel so utterly and hopelessly possessive? I want that woman to be mine.
“No.” I grunt.
Right jab. Left jab. Hook. Uppercut.
Right jab. Left jab. Hook. Uppercut.
I repeat the moves again and again until my body agrees with my mind.
There’s nothing I can do to stop the way I feel about Emmi Sweet except treat her exactly like what she is, the help. She’s like any other employee. I pay her for her service and that’s all. It’s the only way to protect my heart and my daughter from a woman like her, a woman who could shatter my heart to pieces all over again.
I hug the bag, spent and panting. With all of the fight drained from me, I finally feel ready to tackle my work. I towel off and head up the stairs, peering at Tash still watching television on the sofa. Everything I do is for my daughter, and I’ll be damned if I let my feelings get in the way of that, even if this strange spell that Emmi Sweet cast on me is going to take more than a few boxing sessions to shake.
3
Emmi
Natasha sitsin the passenger seat of my car as we wind down the long mountain road. Beyonce blares from the speakers. Her little pink sneakers kick in time with the music. I’ve never really considered myself a kid person, but in the span of three days, this little girl has captured my heart. Although, I haven’t seen her dad much which is probably a good thing. It’s almost like he’s avoiding me. My fingers grip the steering wheel at the thought, but I shake it away as quickly as it arrives. I’m not here for Trent Ryan. I’m here for Natasha, or Tash, as she likes to be called.
“Can I get three cookies?” Tash shouts over the music.
I turn down the radio. “I don’t know. We don’t want to spoil your dinner.” I twist my mouth and put on my blinker. Cooking meals for the kid wasn’t in the job description, but come to find out it’s expected. Mac and cheese, again, I guess. Luckily I don’t have to cook for her dad.
“It won’t.” Tash whines as I pull into the bakery and turn off the car. She rushes over to me as we walk up to the door, pressing her sticky palm in mine.
“You will wash those paws of yours before you eat anything.” She looks up at me with those gigantic eyes of hers, the same shade of green as her dad’s. “You can use the private sink in the back.” Tash smiles like it’s a special treat. Whatever it takes.
The chime rings overhead and Carolyn emerges from the back room. “Emmi!” She comes out from around the counter, eyes fixed on Tash. “And you must be Natasha.”
“Tash.” The little girl says through her missing two front teeth.
Carolyn’s smile warms the entire room. The maternal instincts are strong with this one. “Want a cookie, Tash? Or a cupcake? I have donuts, too. Or cakes, or pies—”
Overwhelmed and on the brink of a sugar rush, Tash shakes her head furiously, her mouth wide enough to catch a flying dragon. “All of them.” She starts to take Carolyn’s hand. “Wait.” She pulls back at the last minute. “Gotta wash my paws first.”
“Your paws, huh?” Carolyn looks up at me and I shrug. “Let’s hop to it.” My sister puts her hands by her chest like she’s a bunny and leads Tash into the back. The two hop the entire way. I take a long breath when they’re both out of site, then head for the coffee machine. It’s about that time, and I’m running on fumes. Who knew taking care of a seven year old would be so freaking draining? I brush a stray hair away from my face, unable to fight the smile forming on my lips. It sure is fun, though. Damn if that kid hasn’t completely made me rethink the idea of motherhood.