I blinked. We’d been sharing a bed for weeks. One argument didn’t justify her separating herself from me. But Violet was as stubborn as me. If I kept pushing her, she’d pull miracles and find her own room on another floor.
“No. Hazel sleeps with me.”
“You have race prep this week. You need proper rest.”
“I can handle?—”
“You’re racing in four days. You don’t need a baby waking you at three AM.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“Why do we have to keep repeating this argument?” She sighed. “I don’t care. I’m her nanny. My job is to make sure you’re well-rested and focused for race weekend. Hazel stays with me.”
The logic was sound. Infuriatingly sound. But it wasn’t about logic and she bloody well knew it.
“This isn’t about my sleep schedule.”
“Sure it isn’t.” She laughed, shaking her head. Then she walked into the spare bedroom without another word.
I followed her in because fuck this bullshit.
“Wait, I?—”
She spun on her heel, glaring at me. “Is there anything else you need?” she asked, the dismissal in her tone clear. “If not, I’dlike to get Hazel settled before she gets overtired. And it’s really not appropriate for you to be in your employee’s room.”
Appropriate. Christ, I was starting to hate that word.
I stared at her. At the professional mask she’d pulled on so seamlessly. At the distance she’d put between us that had nothing to do with the physical space separating us.
She was really doing this. Really cutting me out.
“No,” I bit out. “Nothing else.”
She nodded to the door and I backed out, never taking my eyes off her.
“Vi—”
The door closed with a soft click, cutting off whatever pathetic plea I’d been about to make.
She closed the door and I stood there, dumbfounded, listening to her move around inside. The quiet murmur of her voice as she talked to Hazel. The soft creak of the cot being assembled.
Fuck this.
I grabbed my phone and ordered a steak and whisky from room service. Better than standing here like an idiot waiting for her to come out.
This was temporary. Had to be.
She’d wake up tomorrow and realize she was being ridiculous. That throwing away what we had because her father approved was insane.
She had to.
Tuesday
I woke to Hazel crying in the main living area.
For half a second, I thought I’d imagined it. That I was still in bed in Austin with Violet next to me and Hazel in her cot across the room.
Then reality crashed back. Separate bedrooms. Professional boundaries. The woman I’d fallen for treating me like a client.
