“You do your job well. But some things only I can manage. I’ll see you later.” We parted ways at the executive level gym. For the next hour, I let my trainer on staff beat up my body with sprints and leg work until I was certain that I’d compartmentalized my life. Back on track, focused once again on the job at hand and not things at home.
Although after my shower, I paused drying off. I hit the buy button on that pretty blue Mercedes for her. No more sleeping in cars for Jessa. And if she did, at least it’d be in the lap of safety and luxury.
Sam would never let me hear the end of it if he knew, but this wasn’t crossing a line. Certain employees of mine needed reliable transportation.
I pressed my palms against my eyes, exhaustion dragging through. Tomorrow I’d set boundaries, restore some distance, get back to the plan.
Tonight, she was safe under my roof. Close enough to check on her. Or to reach for if I dared. Dangerous in every way I didn’t want to admit.
Chapter Nine
PATIENCE
Jessa
All day yesterday,while I’d been curled up in Griffin’s guest room fighting off chills and a fever, packages had arrived. Soup—three kinds, like he couldn’t decide which would help most. Hardcover books. Tissues. Flowers and a blanket so soft I’d buried my face in it and almost cried. Pajamas that fit perfectly, a robe that made me feel like I was wrapped in a cloud. A brand-new phone on his plan, because my flip phone was “unacceptable for an employee of West Games.”
Employee. Right. That’s all he saw me as right now. But employees didn’t get flowers. Didn’t get their boss checking in via text every two hours. Or a doctor making a house call just to confirm it was only a cold.
The look on Griffin’s face when he found me sleeping in his car—I’d never forget the fury there, raw and protective. It had stolen my breath. He could have fired me and sent me back to Holly Creek. Instead, he’d wrapped his coat around my shoulders, brought me home, and settled me in a guest room that was bigger than my entire house.
“I take care of what’s mine,” he’d said.
Mine.
Only he didn’t mean it the way I wanted him to. It was Griffin being the CEO and managing his assets. But assets wouldn’t normally get his personal attention. I read too much into it, making something out of nothing because I wanted him so badly.
If I kept showing up, being good with Theo, kept proving I belonged here, he’d see the real me. Not as the bartender from Holly Creek or the nanny he’d hired in desperation, but as the woman he’d held that night at the lake. The one he’d whispered to in the dark, the one he couldn’t quite forget.
If I kept showing up, I could make him fall for me—or break my own heart trying.
The thought hit me with equal parts hope and terror. But I was already halfway there myself, wasn’t I? Already imagining a life where this was real. Where Theo was mine and Griffin was mine and we had this baby together, and I got to keep this impossible dream as my new reality.
Patience, Jessa.Keep going, find the right moment to tell him about the baby, and everything will fall into place.I pressed a hand to my still-flat stomach. About eight weeks now. The secret felt heavier every day, like a stone I carried around, waiting for the right moment to set it down.
When I walked out of the guest bedroom, the place was silent. No Griffin barking orders into his phone, no Theo with excited chatter about hockey stats. Just expensive emptiness and the hum of the city forty floors below.
Disappointment pricked at me—part of me had hoped Griffin would be here, asked how I was feeling, shared coffee and talked about something other than Theo’s schedule. A moment where I could finally find the courage to tell him about the baby.
There was never a right moment in his fast-paced world, though. Griffin lived in his office, worked through dinners, andchecked his phone during conversations. When would there be time for “Hey, remember that night at the lake? Well, funny story...”
A note sat on the kitchen counter in Griffin’s sharp, precise handwriting:
Early meeting. Brock will take you and Theo to school. — G.
No “Good morning.” No “Hope you’re feeling better.” Just orders.
I crumpled the note and tossed it in the trash, irritation flaring. This was my life now, living in his world but invisible in it? The nanny. The help. Not the woman he’d once whispered promises to in the dark.
“Morning, Jessa!” Theo bounded into the kitchen, backpack bouncing, hair sticking up in three directions. “If you’re all better, are you coming to my game Friday?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Come here; let me fix your hair. Don’t want a single strand out of place when Annie waves at you this morning.” I teased and fingered through it.
“I wish she wouldn’t. It’s weird, her being Mitch’s sister and all.”
“Years from now, you might feel differently. Are you hungry? I can make pancakes.”
“Dad already made me oatmeal with berries.” He wrinkled his nose. “He says it’s healthy.”
