My face heats instantly. Full stop. I can feel the blush creeping up my neck like a police light that flashes ‘EMOTIONALLY COMPROMISED.’
“That’s just the relief talking,” I deflect. “Because your last nanny quit and you were desperate.”
“Jess.”
“I’m serious,” I tell him. “Desperation makes everyone look good. It’s basic psychology.”
“Stop.”
I shut my mouth. Look up at him.
He’s giving me a look that makes my stomach do its butterfly thing.
“You don’t take compliments well,” he observes.
“I take them fine. I just don’t believe them.” The honesty slips out before I can stop it. “People say nice things when they want something. Or when they’re being polite. It doesn’t usually mean anything real.”
His jaw tightens. “It means something whenIsay it.”
Oh.
Oh no.
Entering dangerous territory...
I should change the subject. Should pivot back to Ben. Should do literally anything except sit here feeling like my entire body is tuned to a frequency only he can hear.
Instead I say, “Yeah?”
His eyes never leave mine. “Yeah.”
The word hangs between us. Heavy. Loaded with a million layers of subtext that we’re both pretending not to notice.
My underwear feels wetter than ever.
I clear my throat. Stand. “I should go. It’s late. And you probably have early calls or whatever billionaire restaurateurs do before sunrise.”
He doesn’t move. “Jess.”
I’m already gathering my notebook. My bag. My phone. Anything to keep my hands busy so they don’t do something stupid like reach for him. “Seriously. I’ll see you tomorrow. Ben’s library day so I need to remember her book and—”
“Jess.”
I freeze.
He’s moved closer.
When did he move closer?
Now he’s right there. In my space. Close enough that I can smell him. That bitter orange and espresso and cedar that shouldn’t be this distracting but absolutely is.
“We need to talk about this,” he says quietly.
“Talk about what?” I’m going for casual.Landing somewhere near panicked. “Ben’s doing great. The Brave Kitchen pilot went well. The Family Meal Mondays expansion is on track. Everything’s fine.”
He doesn’t back down. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Then I don’t know what you mean,” I lie.
