I don’t move from the doorframe.
It’s difficult to have this intense and intimate conversation in front of my daughter. I need to find Amelia a distraction and one that doesn’t involve the nanny playing games with her and ignoring me.
“Amelia, it’s time for you to do your schoolwork. Grab your tablet from the living room table.” I plugged the device in on my way out this morning for the meeting. It’s had plenty of time to charge.
She grumbles and grabs her iPad, taking it to the sofa to do her schoolwork. We went over how to access the assignments and she’s rather intuitive with using it. She pops on her headphones to listen to the instructions the teacher gives.
Now we have some privacy.
“Put your bag back,” I say, pinning Clare with my heated stare.
She huffs and shoves it to the side of the bed as she stands just a few inches from me. “There isn’t anything to say,” Clare challenges me, her own stare matching mine in intensity.
“There’s plenty to say.” I step closer, breaking the distance between us. With Amelia preoccupied, I can talk openly with Clare. “For starters, were you planning on quitting?”
“What? No.” Her mouth drops. “I told you, I was going to get a separate room so we don’t have to share the same bed, and you can bring that redhead up or anyone else you want. I won’t be in the way.”
I growl and lean into her personal space, my fingers wrapping around her hair, tilting her gaze up to meet my stare. “There is no one else I want, Clare. Get that into your pretty, thick skull.”
She huffs. “Wow, what a compliment.” Her eyes scowl, and she tries to squirm away from me, but I tighten my grip, not letting her go quite so easily. My other hand wraps around her waist, keeping her pressed tightly against me.
I want her to feel what she does to me. These aren’t feelings that I get for anyone else.
“Stop trying to use your charms on me,” she sneers up at me. Clare’s cheeks are red, and I wonder if this is the wrong move. She could slap me or punch me for being too forward.
That wouldn’t hurt nearly as much as her leaving or quitting.
I won’t let her do that. Amelia needs her almost as much as I do.
“You think I’m charming?” I say, trying to defuse the situation.
Her nose twitches, and it’s absolutely adorable. But her cheeks don’t lighten up. If anything, they get even redder. I loosen my intense grip on her hair and run my fingers through the locks, before guiding my hand to her cheek.
“I used to think you were charming until I met Avril.” Clare doesn’t beat around the bush. That’s one of the things I usually love about her. But right now, it makes me nervous.
Avril was a mistake. A long line in a list of women I bedded and had no connection to emotionally. “She’s in my past, Clare. I didn’t come to Paris to sleep with her.”
“I know that. I’m not naïve, but I don’t like that whatever issues you have with her, you’ve dumped on me.”
I inhale a sharp breath. “That’s fair,” I say. At least, I think she may be getting to the root of the problem. “Amelia just surprised me earlier, and Avril always kept pushing for me to give her a ring, to propose.”
“She’s after your money,” Clare says, realizing the connection. “I’m not Avril. I don’t want your money. In case you forgot, you’re paying me room and board for nannying Amelia. Nothing else.”
I hate how right she is. Even when I gave Clare several hundred dollars to get lost while my annoying younger brother was at the house, she spent the entirety of it on my daughter. She didn’t spend it on herself, which is what the money had been intended for, not Amelia.
“I should be paying you a stipend for your work,” I say. It crossed my mind when I didn’t fire her after the first week, but we haven’t spoken again about finances or what account to put money into for her.
That has entirely been my fault. I’ve been caught up in the Paris trip and the hotel we are interested in purchasing.
“I don’t want your money.” Clare shuffles her feet. “When we get back to New York, you should hire a new nanny. Someone with more qualifications.”
“What?” I can’t believe I’m hearing her correctly. “Clare, no.”
“It’s not up to you. I’m resigning. I’ll give you enough notice that you can hire someone else and interview however many nannies you need, but this arrangement between us has to end.”
My hands fall from her skin like she’s fire and I’m ice. I can’t do this, not now, not when I have a huge meeting this week and need to focus on the particulars of the business. I take a step back and run my fingers through my hair.
My heart hurts, and my stomach tumbles. I head for the front door.