I frowned at him, making sure that Noah couldn’t see. I had a million questions, but it wouldn’t be appropriate to talk about Noah’s diagnosis with him sitting right beside me. Still, there was one question I really had to ask.
“No matter what?” I echoed. “Even on vacation?”
I mean, I knew the value of keeping children on a schedule firsthand, but being this strict on what was supposed to be a fun break felt weird.Infantsneeded that sort of predictability. We were talking about a six-year-old with emerging executive function.
Was this the therapist’s actual advice—because it sure sounded odd to me—or was Logan twisting what the therapist meant to suit his own micromanaging?
“Even on vacation,” Logan agreed. “All set, buddy?”
Noah stared at the drawing glumly then finally nodded.
“Hey, we had a great first day, didn’t we?” I said to Noah as he stood up. “Lots more fun to come.”
He perked up and nodded, the tiniest smile tickling the corners of his mouth.
“Should I plan for this sort of delay in pickup every day?” I asked Logan. I had to strain to be civil because the man was my boss, but the fact that he hadn’t apologized for being late had me fuming.
Logan’s expression went pinched, like hefinallyrealized that he’d inconvenienced me.
“No. This was a one-off for embarkation day. It won’t happen again.”
I cocked a brow, waiting for the s-word that never came.
“Do you have a team to help out, if you get called away?” I asked even though I already knew the answer.
Logan shook his head. “It’s just the two of us. Noah’s last nanny, uh, wasn’t the right fit.”
I glanced at Noah and saw him frown at the mention of his former nanny.
“Anyway, we’re fine,” Logan said in a voice that cut off further conversation on the subject.
The way he said it sounded like he was trying to convince himselfandme. Logan’s expression shifted for a second—pain, perhaps?—and then it was back to his stupid RHF: resting hot face.
Ugh. It didn’t matter how hot he was, I did. Not. Like. Him.
“All set, buddy?” Logan said as he squeezed his son’s shoulder.
Noah nodded then held up the drawing. “Can I keep this?”
I broke into a genuine smile, thrilled that our little art session was meaningful to him. “Of course! And we can make more of them. Get ready for tons of fun.”
He nodded. He didn’t look convinced, but after what I’d experienced with him throughout the day, I’d gotten the sense that quietly bummed was his level-set.
It would help for me to know what he was dealing with, but it wasn’t my place to ask. And Logan seemed like the kind of person who thought he could slay every dragon on his own.
“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Logan said as he led Noah toward the door.
“Bye, Noah!” I called after them. “Can’t wait!”
And then they were gone, without a “sorry”ora “thank you.”
That sealed it. I was employed by an asshole. I sighed and put away the remaining art supplies. I had a feeling that I’d be waiting for Logan Ashford quite a bit over the next week.
I’d told my colleagues to leave right on time, which meant I had to do the final cleanup. I felt a little like Cinderella as I put things away.
No doubt who the villain was in this story.
The FaceTime chime rang, and I grinned to myself when I saw my best friend’s pretty face smiling at me. Our matching dark hair and eyes made people wonder if we were related, but we were only sisters in our hearts.
