“Fuck!”
Amelia’s eyes widen, and her jaw drops as she stares at me.
“Don’t say that word,” I scold before she can repeat it.
We finish at the restaurant and head straight for the airport. I don’t have any checked baggage, only the carry-on suitcase and backpack. The kid didn’t come with many clothes, only a small knapsack with a handful of outfits.
Last night and again this morning, Amelia refused to change out of the bright-pink frilly tutu, white tights, and white T-shirt. It’s amazing her white shirt is still clean after sleeping at the hotel.
Stubborn.
Another reason I need a nanny. I’m not the most patient person.
We board the plane early, and I explain to the stewardess about our seating arrangement. It’s a full flight, but the woman seated next to me offers to switch. She’s cute, with long blonde hair and a full figure that makes my cock twitch admiring her curves.
“Hi, I’m Clare,” the blonde says, smiling at Amelia.
Amelia squeezes her stuffed unicorn tighter. Its mane is rainbow and sparkly, and it’s the only toy the kid brought with her.
“She’s shy,” I say, not wanting to elaborate on the recent trauma in her life to this stranger.
“I was shy when I was her age, too,” Clare says, her eyes entirely on Amelia. It’s as though I don’t exist. “What’s your friend’s name?” she asks, pointing at the unicorn.
Clare shuffles into her new row in front of us on the airplane. She doesn’t sit. She hovers, leaning on the headrest, trying to engage with Amelia.
Amelia doesn’t respond, but I do. And it’s more of a bite.
“That’s enough questions for today,” I say, my temper short. I gesture for her to turn around in her seat.
“You don’t have to be rude,” Clare says, and spins around, sitting in her seat.
Amelia’s nose scrunches, and I can’t tell what she’s thinking. She brings the unicorn to her face, and her mouth moves ever so quietly, but I can’t hear what she’s saying. It’s like a secret between her and her fluffy friend.
I don’t apologize to the girl seated in the row in front of us. Maybe I should since she is doing me a favor, switching seats.
“Have you ever been on an airplane?” I ask Amelia.
She doesn’t answer me. Her mother didn’t always live in Chicago. I met her in New York. We were a short romance that burned bright and hot early on.
At take-off, Amelia grips the chair handle. I rest my hand over hers. “It’s okay. Just a little bumpy. It’s supposed to be like this,” I assure her.
There’s no sign of her nodding or saying anything to indicate that she understands me. Her mother, Katelyn, didn’t speak any other languages, as far as I’m aware.
After we’ve reached cruising altitude, the stewardess asks us for our drink orders. I refrain from having any alcohol. I’d love a stiff drink right now, but it’s not going to help me forget why I was in Chicago.
I retrieve a few children’s menus and crayons from the backpack. One side has drawings to color along with the menu, and the opposite side is blank. Thankfully, the restaurant gave us extra for the flight. Pulling down the tray table in front of Amelia, I put the items down, letting her color.
She stares at them and then glances back at me.
“Go ahead. You can color,” I say.
I don’t know much about kids, let alone raising one. My younger brother, Connor, is a dipshit, and thank god he hasn’t procreated.
I’ve tried to look out for him. Hell, I gave him a job in management at the New York hotel. But he has a knack for either firing decent employees or making them want to quit. But I’m not going to just hand him a paycheck and not make him get his ass into work five days a week. Where else can I put him?
I may have inherited the company, but I also turned this place around. It was barely profitable when I took over after our father’s death. I had no choice but to shake things up and make it better, because otherwise, who would take care of Mom?
Dad left me the business, which meant taking care of my mother and handling my younger brother. I’m not a complete dick. I didn’t put either of them out on the street, though it was tempting with Connor.