Tuesdays at Six (Sunday Love Book 3) Read online

Page 2

The next time I look at the clock it’s five-thirty in the evening. I have not been to my office once today. The day was stacked with consecutive meetings, all designed to finish the deal with the Chinese clients. If one meeting had a hitch, the rest would fall like dominos. Thankfully the only glitch was running behind schedule, something we were able to repair by mid-afternoon. We had all items settled before the trading floor closed downtown at four.

  In the last hour and a half of the day we finalized the press release and held interviews with the top financial shows on CNN and CNBC.

  “I’m exhausted,” I admit, sinking into my office chair. I could sleep right here if given a moment of peace.

  “Why don’t you skip the dinner? I’ll make an excuse.”

  “No. It would be monumentally offensive, and even though they signed today, we still have three platforms we want them to partner on. I’ll just run up and check on the girl—Fuck!” I jump up and make a run for the door.

  “Poppy isn’t in my office.”

  “What? Where is she?”

  “I told Sam to take her to your place this morning.”

  “Jesus Christ, what is wrong with me?” I collapse onto the couch. That kid would have gone without a lunch today if it had been left to me. Would have spent the day alone in an office without me even thinking of her.

  “Cut yourself some slack,” Finn says softly, taking the seat across from me. “You need help. No one expects you to handle this all on your own.”

  “Everett did.”

  “No. He didn’t. I haven’t seen one piece of communication from the lawyers that suggested Everett had branded you as Superman.”

  “He was.”

  “No. He wasn’t. He had a wife, in-laws, and a community of parents at the girls’ school.”

  “I’m fine.” I make to stand, but he easily pushes me back down.

  “I’m not finished.” He gives me the no-nonsense stare he’s known for. “I agree it’s not fair to the girls. None of this is fair. Their lives were destroyed in a single instant. Then they were uprooted from the only place they knew and moved to a city that never stops.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” I shout in frustration. Defeat. Sorrow. Pick one. Any one of them would only describe a fraction of what I am feeling right now. “What the hell were they thinking? Me? Why me?”

  “I don’t know why. None of us do. But we’re here now. Why don’t you ring mum and dad to come stay for a few months?”

  “No!”

  “Just until you have your footing.”

  “I know I was the wrong choice. I don’t need them reminding me every day.”

  “They would never say that.” My brother’s eyes are filled with sympathy for me and I hate it. I’m supposed to be his protector. Not the other way around.

  “They think it and you know it. They never miss a chance to tell me I’ve screwed up.”

  “They kept you on a tight leash, I agree. But you needed one. You were always too smart for your own good. Mum and dad didn’t want you straying too far from the line. They love you.”

  “Not an option,” I say with finality, closing the topic.

  “Well, we need to figure out something. You cannot continue at this pace, and the girls need stability.”

  “What I need is a nanny who won’t bail.”

  “Zinnie is just acting out because she’s hurting.”

  “I know that. You would think a ten-thousand-dollar-a-week nanny would understand it, too.”

  “Let’s go, Superman.” Finn pulls me up and we take our private lift to my residence, a floor above his.

  “You need to thank Sam when we get in there.” He narrows his eyes at me. He is more than acquainted with my opinion of his PA. “She set aside her entire day to take care of Poppy.”

  “Fine. I’ll play nice, although you might want to talk to her about her wardrobe. Every bloke in that room was eye-fucking her.”

  “Caught that did you?” Finn chuckles, plowing into me when I stop abruptly.

  My home is…tidy. There’s no trace of the chaos that has become the new standard. We walk through the living area to find Zinnie at the table. She’s never out here. She and Sam are having a conversation. She has a smile on her face. As soon as she sees me, it disappears.

  “I need you to keep your sister tonight while I go to a meeting. I shouldn’t be too long.”

  “That’s what you always say,” she says under her breath. I choose to ignore it as usual.

  “Zinnia,” Sam lightly chastises.

  Zinnie rolls her eyes. “Fine. I’ll watch her.”

  “Would you give us a minute, please?” Finn asks Zinnie, who goes to her room.

  “Sam, I know Friday is your last day.” It is? “I’d rather like to keep you on.”

  I roll my eyes. I just don’t understand his attachment to this girl.

  “We talked about this, Finn.” She is exasperated. “I make too much to keep my financial aid and too little to work and afford school. I’m having to move out of my apartment just to afford books.”

  “Since when? You didn’t tell me.” My brother is not pleased with this news.

  “Of course, I didn’t. I knew what you’d do, and I don’t want a handout. You’re not paying my rent and my school. Plus, I don’t want to listen to you go on about Queens.”

  “When have I ever gone on and why do you have to be so stubborn? And you are not living in Queens.” He slices his hand through the air in a show of finality. “Unless you plan to be inside by seven. You are not taking the tube late at night.”

  “Oh my God. It’s like the same conversation on repeat. I’m living Ground Hog Day. I’m over having this same argument with you, Finn. And there’s nothing wrong with Queens. Plenty of people live in Queens. Good people.”

  “Do I need to be here for this?” I ask dryly.

  “No. Sorry.” Finn releases a frustrated breath. He’s considerably silent for a moment. I know that silence; he’s scheming. A sly, Cheshire grin spreads across his face and he says, “Sam, I want you to meet your new boss. Walt, meet your new nanny.”

  “What?” Sam and I respond at the same time.

  “The new fellow—Josh—filled in today while you helped out here. He isn’t you, but he’ll do. You were already planning to work for me part time, and Walt needs you more. Now that I know you also need a place to live,” he gives a disgruntled look to his PA, “there are nanny’s quarters that come with the position. Two birds, one stone.”

  Sam and I both start to protest, but Finn cuts us off.

  “You can get the girls off to school. Do your courses on the days you have them, work with me on the days you don’t. Then while you are doing your coursework at night, the girls can do theirs.”

  “Thank you but no. I can handle this on my own,” I say through gritted teeth. I’m afraid of the tirade that will let loose if I release my jaw.

  “Plus, I’m not sure this would be a good fit for me. Living here,” Sam says.

  “What’s wrong with living here?” I snap, totally missing the point that she and I are on the same page. This is not a good fit for either of us.

  “Nothing. It’s beautiful. It’s just…well, you’re a little high strung, and you don’t like me very much.”

  “I neither like nor dislike you. I don’t think about you enough to come to an opinion on the matter. And, yes, I am currently high-strung. My entire fucking life has been flipped upside down,” I growl. Finn’s look tells me I have crossed a line. It doesn’t matter, though, because the woman in front of me does not give a shit what I think about her.

  “All you ever talk about is what this has done to your life,” she spits back. “Do you ever stop to think about what it has done to theirs?”

  Her words are like a feather falling from the sky and when it lands on my back, it’s the last weight it can take. I snap.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are, standing here in my house lecturing me on something I already know?
Do you think a day goes by that I don’t worry about what I am doing to these girls? I was never meant to raise kids. Fuck you if you think for a minute I would have chosen this…” I search for the words and when they don’t come I regrettably land on, “hell we’re all living in.” She blanches at my words and I can feel the bile rising in my throat. I finally admitted the words I’ve been choking down since the day I found out I was a guardian.

  The three of us stand there in the acrid silence of my words. My body is shaking. Finn wraps his arms around me, but I just stand there.

  “You’re alright,” he says quietly. I wish I believed him.

  “I don’t feel so good.” Poppy appears at my feet. My face pales at the thought she might have heard me.

  I squat down and touch her forehead, she’s still running a fever. Her eyes hold mine and they look hazy. “Go lie down and I’ll bring you some…” She vomits. All over me. I can feel it running down my shirt collar, onto my chest. Vomit that must have been living inside her stomach for days it is so retched.

  Vomit.

  I hate vomit.

  She immediately bursts into tears. Sam pulls her pajamas off where she stands and leaves them on the floor. Picking her up, Poppy rests her head in the nook of Sam’s neck. It’s an image that confuses me: how she can pick Poppy up in those heels and how she can stand that stench of vomit so close to her face.

  Sam places her hand on my arm and uses me as a brace so she can kick her shoes off. “Shower and go to your meeting. I’ll take care of her and stay until you are home.”

  “I’ll cancel.” The defeat in my voice is evident to everyone in the room. And even though I’m expecting it, seeing the pity in her eyes is worse because it’s a mirror of how I’m feeling.

  “You can’t. There are people’s livelihood depending on this deal,” she reminds me.

  “They won’t let her at school tomorrow. She has to be fever and vomit-free for twenty-four hours.”

  “I can keep her,” Finn offers.

  “You can’t,” Sam says. “Tomorrow has all the rescheduled appointments from the day you took off to care for West.” At just the mention of Finn’s new friend, his eyes flash with desire, confusion and a hint of uncertainty.

  “I’ll stay with her tomorrow,” she says. “I can check in on Josh. Like you said, he made it okay today, he’ll make it okay tomorrow.”

  “Go. Shower,” she says with a flick of her hand, dismissing me.

  Guess it’s settled then.

  I like being in control. I like calling the shots. But something about Samantha taking the reins just now is enough to have my dick waking up.

  Hello, fella. It’s been a while.

  For the first time in four months, my mind is completely blank. No problems to solve. No wondering how I am going to maneuver this meeting and Poppy being sick. Nothing. Just me and my hand. It’s glorious. Did I mention it’s been a while?

  By the time I’m showered and dressed, the scene of the crime has been cleaned and the only person in the living room is Finn, waiting for me to go to our dinner meeting.

  I thank the gods we’re meeting at the restaurant next door, so we won’t have to deal with traffic. We would have been late otherwise, something I loathe.

  I knock lightly on Zinnie’s door. When I open it, she’s sitting on her bed with her earbuds in. She’s on FaceTime with someone. She’s not happy about it, but she takes one out and acknowledges me with a glare.

  “Sam is staying until I get back, so you don’t have to watch your sister.” She nods as if she couldn’t care less and puts her earbud back in, resuming her conversation. Alright then. Guess ours is over. This fifteen-year-old has made me her bitch. She is never going to come around. Shuffling down the hall, I open Poppy’s door.

  The lighting is muted but I can see she’s unsoiled and in bed. Sam is rubbing her back, and I faintly hear her humming a song I don’t recognize.

  Despite having this problem temporarily solved, I’m still frustrated with my brother. Half of me is angry with Finn for making a decision of this magnitude for me, while the other half is relieved at the idea of having a nanny who isn’t going to walk out in two weeks. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this charade up. Can it even be called a charade if everyone already knows the truth? That I am fucking this up. I’m the only one who’s refusing to admit defeat.

  “Ready?” Finn calls from the end of the hallway where he waits, watching me. He knows I’m going to protest before I even open my mouth.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea. I can do this. I can make this work. I appreciate your offer, but it’s not necessary.”

  “I love you, brother, but you are too close if you think you can do this on your own. You’ve wanted—correction, needed a nanny all along. How is hiring Sam any different?”

  “The nannies I hire come from Willingham Society, the most prestigious firm in the world. The Royals use this firm. You’re telling me a twenty-seven-year-old college dropout is going to outperform nannies who attended the best universities and have had world class training? Somehow I doubt Sam is what Everett thought I would provide his girls when he entrusted their care to me.”

  “Everett just wanted his girls to be loved. That is why he entrusted them to you,” Finn says over his shoulder as we walk to the table reserved for our meeting. He greets the gentlemen already seated and it takes me a moment to gather my wits about me.

  Is Finn right? Is that what Everett wanted?

  If so, why didn’t he choose their grandparents, or friends that have children the same age? I shake my head. Everett wanted his girls to be raised by someone with the financial means to give them everything they needed. To ensure they would have the best the world had to offer. That is why they chose me. I have more money than God.

  Dinner drones on and by the time we leave I am more than ready to be home. It’s ten o’clock by the time the lift stops at Finn’s. He invites me in for a drink, but I don’t have it in me. In the short ride from his floor up to mine, I start to feel the dread that has become second nature. It will take me at least an hour to get the girls down, then another hour to prep for tomorrow. I still have a thousand emails to tend to. The first is a request to the Willingham to send a new prospect for review. It usually takes a few days for them to arrange travel; with any luck they can have someone here before the weekend.

  The doors open and when I step into the foyer, I notice that something is amiss. I can’t tell if I’m in the right place. It’s quiet. There aren’t shoes and clothes and Barbies strewn about. The table isn’t covered in iPad’s and laptops and earbuds. For the first time in four months it looks and sounds like the home I always had.

  Walking down the girls’ wing, I crack open Poppy’s door. It’s dark, but the pale light from the hallway illuminates the room enough that I can see Poppy asleep against Sam. Quietly, I maneuver the darkness and place a palm on Poppy’s forehead. She still feels feverish, but she’s sleeping for the first time in a couple of days. Sam’s bare feet are propped on the ottoman, so I shift the blanket she has draped over Poppy to also cover her toes before stealing my way out.

  Zinnie’s room is surprisingly dark and she’s in her bed sleeping. The first time since she has stayed here that she’s asleep before midnight.

  Today was just a bad day, I assure myself on the way to the refrigerator to grab a water to take to my office. Maybe I can do this after all. Maybe we are going to make it. Everyone keeps telling me that one day you look up and you’re over the hump. Maybe today was our hump.

  I smile at the thought, but the truth slams into me like a wave when I open the refrigerator door. There’s a lunch made for Zinnie. An actual lunch. A thought-out, pre-planned lunch. Made the night before.

  She had both girls in bed before ten and a lunch made for the next day. A feat the nannies from Willingham have yet to accomplish. The difference isn’t that we’ve made it over some hypothetical hump. The difference is Sam.

  I’
m an hour into emails when there’s a light knock on the office door casing.

  “I’m going to sneak down to Finn’s place for a minute,” Sam says groggily. “Wanted to let you know. Both girls are asleep, but Poppy is still running a fever and coughing. Do you know if she has any allergies?”

  “She doesn’t. I spoke to her pediatrician after the accident to get some history on both of the girls.”

  “See. You’re better at this than you realize.” She smiles and for the first time I see the girl standing in front of me. I’ve always registered her as pretty, but I would go as far to say she’s beautiful. Her blonde hair, matted from sleep, hangs just below her shoulder blades. Without her heels, and based on where she’s hitting the door frame, I’d venture she’s around 5’7”. Her silk blouse skims over her ample breasts like silk draped over highlands. She has an hour-glass figure, showcased by the black pencil skirt she’s wearing. Her stomach is flat, but her hips, thighs and bum have a noticeable curvature to them. I suppose she would be considered ‘thick’ compared to the women I am usually attracted to. My size-zero fiancé, Camilla, can wear designer clothes like a runway model. From every angle, they hang perfectly.

  “Pardon?” I ask reeling in my revelries.

  “I was saying, you are better at this than you realize. You could stand to cut yourself some slack.”

  “I don’t have that luxury. I have two little girls who depend on me getting this right.”

  “You do,” she agrees, “and you will.” She says it like it’s a given, like she believes it.

  I wish I had her confidence. I’m seconds away from asking her how she knows, and can she guarantee it.

  “I ordered some cough syrup,” she continues, oblivious to my turmoil. “The front desk will call as soon as it arrives. I should be back by then.”

  “You’re leaving?” The thought brings a surprising level of panic with it.

  “Just to Finn’s for a few minutes,” she politely reminds me.

  “Right. I’ll listen for the girls.” I gather my footing and straighten the fuck up.

  She nods, and I hear the lift ping seconds later. True to her word, she’s back in less than ten minutes, but not alone.