Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
“I’ll help them,” his mother says.
With all the commotion, the sound of the doorbell is muffled, but I pick up on it, as does Austin, his gaze flickering with a question toward the front of the house.
“I’ll get it!” I walk out of the room and stride to the door. “Who is it?”
When no one answers, I peek out the side glass pane and see a woman impatiently pacing back and forth. I open the door partway.
“Can I help you?”
An attractive brunette with a cool stare meets my gaze.
“I want to see my daughter.”
I go mute. Nothing prepared me for the eventuality of Austin’s ex, Bailey’s mother, showing up on our doorstep and demanding access to her daughter. Wearing a bandage-style dress that is more appropriate for a nightclub than a visit with her child, she assesses me, looking me up and down. Considering I dressed down, as I always do for my job, I doubt this woman finds anything worth noting.
I swallow hard, my hand still on the edge of the door, not opening it entirely. “I’ll have to talk to Austin.”
“Austin, is it? And just who the hell are you?”
I straighten my shoulders. “I’m the nanny.”
“Really,” she says with a disbelieving snort.
“Mia? Who’s at the door?” Before I can reply, Austin comes up behind me, his big, warm body solid behind me. “Kayla? What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Daddy, who’s here? Are we having company? Can I say hi?” Bailey’s little voice sounds from behind us, and Austin stiffens.
“Is that my Bailey?” Kayla asks, taking a step forward.
“Get Bailey out of here now,” Austin says harshly in my ear.
His body language, his tone of voice vibrates with barely leashed anger he obviously doesn’t want his daughter to hear or see. No more than he wants to see his ex-wife.
I swing around him, scoop Bailey into my arms, and bring her back into the kitchen with her grandparents.
I mouth who the visitor is to Austin’s parents, and we help me keep Bailey busy. I need the same distraction. I only wish I could be a fly on the wall to hear what is going on between Austin and his ex-wife outside.
* * *
Austin
I stare at my ex, furious that she’s shown up on my doorstep without warning. Asking to see the little girl she mistreated is just ammunition to make me even angrier.
I pull the door closed behind me so Bailey can’t hear and face Kayla on the front porch. First impressions matter, and one look at her in a skanky dress and heels tells me she isn’t here to kneel down and hug the child she hasn’t seen in two years.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest.
“I think that’s obvious. I want to see my daughter.” But there is nothing maternal in her voice or her demeanor. There is calculating going on behind those eyes. I am sure of it.
“Try again.” I block the door with my body, lest she get some bright idea about trying to push past me.
She didn’t want to be Bailey’s mother to begin with. Having a baby, then a toddler was too much work, too hard when she’d rather be partying and spending money.
She steps closer, the cloying scent of her perfume too familiar and unwelcome. “Come on, Austin. Let me come in. We have a lot of catching up to do.” She follows up her words by trailing her fingers up my chest in a fake seduction attempt neither of us is really buying.
Yep. She wants something.
“Where’s Marco?” I ask of the man she left me for, a bottom-feeder who is only too happy to live off the settlement I gave her when we divorced.
She pulls off her sunglasses and meets my stare. “We broke up.”
I narrow my gaze. “Don’t tell me you ran through the settlement money.”
“It wasn’t enough, and you know it,” she says, pouting like a child.
“It was plenty when you grabbed it in exchange for custody. Which I have. Sole custody,” I remind her. “So don’t expect to come sniffing around Bailey now. She’s happier without you.” Because her mother can’t be bothered to pay enough attention to her to keep her safe. I cringe at the reminder.
She shakes her head. “Don’t fool yourself. Courts take pity on mothers. Especially ones who were coerced into giving up custody in the first place by their ex-husband. The situation wasn’t at all fair and I’ll have no problem telling my story in court.” She blinks up at me, the fake tears in her eyes a definite threat.
“What do you want?” I ask past gritted teeth. Although I already know.
She wants more money to go away and leave Bailey alone.
“Pay me,” she says, confirming my hunch. “You owe me for screwing up my body to give birth in the first place.”