“I’m sorry I’ve been gone so much.”
“I love being with your daughter. We’ve been having a blast together.”
“Still, you deserve a day off.”
My heart plummets. Of course. When he’s back, he’s not going to play family with the nanny. He’ll want one-on-one time with Belle. I need to remember my place.
“You’re paying me more than enough to make up for the time,” I say, reminding myself that we’re not a family. This is a business arrangement.
He turns toward the stairs. “I have lines to memorize. And then I have to get a few hours of rest.”
The house feels empty when he leaves.
Just. The. Nanny.
CHAPTER11
57 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS
Ronan
“I’m out of here,”I say, grabbing my backpack and hoisting it over my shoulder.
“Leaving early?” my costar Sebastian teases, blowing on a hot cup of coffee, probably his tenth one of the day. I’ve had more than my share of coffee today as well. For warmth. It’s freezing, spitting rain, and we’ve been shooting at a lakeside location all day.
“I’ve been on set since five-thirty a.m.,” I grumble. “Where was your sorry ass this morning?”
He shrugs. “I had a late night last night. I can’t help if the girls didn’t want to leave.”
“You better be careful, Blake,” I warn.
Sebastian Blake, the son of Hollywood royalty, was once a child star, but he burned a lot of bridges when he turned eighteen and—in the time-honored tradition of child stars—went wild on sex, drugs, and drinking. He eventually cleaned up his act and landed his role inThe Wanderers, which rebuilt his teetering career and polished his bright star. In the last few years, however, that shine has begun to tarnish again.
“Careful is boring,” he says lightly. “What about you, Masters? Getting any with the ladies? You’ve been quiet lately.”
“He’s always quiet, Sebastian. Leave Ronan alone,” my other costar, Chase James, defends me with a roll of his eyes.
“No, not his usual grumpy shit. This is different. I think he’s got a woman.”
I snort. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. When would I have time for a woman?”
Sebastian shoots me his trademark careless grin. “Deny it all you want, but last time you brought Belle to set, she couldn’t stop talking about some chick named Poppy. Is she your local piece? Are you fucking her?”
I lean forward, grab him by the shirt, and say softly, “Don’t. Talk. About. Poppy.”
Though Sebastian isn’t a small guy, he isn’t as big as my six-foot-four. He works out, but he doesn’t train like I do, and he hasn’t studied martial arts for the last twenty years. We both know I could kick his ass if I was so inclined.
“Okay, okay. I’m just joking around.”
“Joking or not, she’s off the table.” I let him go.
He smooths his shirt. “This was five hundred dollars. You stretched it out.”
“You’re the dumbass who spent five hundred on a shirt,” Chase snorts.
“Like you don’t buy expensive shit. Besides, I didn’t spend a dime of my money on it. I haven’t bought clothes since we started this franchise. Designers just send it to me, and Emma decides what I should keep,” Sebastian says.
“How has Emma been working out for you?” Chase asks, changing the subject.
