Page 28

I nod, feeling utterly foolish. Of course, I remember. But I also assumed she might have jetted off with him, like she usually does. Unsurprisingly, my imagination just ran wild, spinning out a narrative that wasn’t real.
“You feeling okay?” Jett’s voice softens, his brows furrowing as he watches me.
My heart does an awkward flip, and suddenly everything shifts. The realization crashes down on me—he’s single. He’s not with Alicia anymore. Can I really trust myself to go on this trip with him? To spend that much time around him?
“I didn’t want to ask you,” he says, looking away for a moment, almost like he’s searching for the right words. “But I doubt Alicia would want to take care of Brooke.”
There’s a bitterness in his tone when he says her name. He mutters something under his breath, something like, she doesn’t give a damn about her. It’s clear now—he’s not with her anymore.
But he also didn’t want to ask me.
I feel a strange mix of emotions. Part of me wants to be annoyed, to be angry that he’s putting me in this position. He’s just a selfish, stubborn, controlling man. But another part of me—one I don’t like to acknowledge—is starting to feel sorry for him. This man is in crisis mode.
?I sigh. “Okaaay. I’ll do it,” I say, begrudgingly. “But on one condition—you accept my resignation.”
His eyes snap back to mine, and he seems to hesitate, as if he’s feeling uneasy. As if he doesn’t like my condition.
“I’ll accept it when you get back.” His voice is measured, almost calculated.
The words confuse me. I frown, trying to make sense of them. When I get back? “No, Jett. I now have three weeks left, on account of you going away to Sacramento. I handed in my resignation last week.”
“We leave in five days. I will need time to find a new nanny, and with spending so much time in Bermuda, I won’t be able to do that effectively. Just start the clock from when we leave, please? It gives me a week when we get back. You’ll be leaving, my nanny has left. I’m going to be a wreck.”
I know he is.
I look at the calendar on his desk, pretending to make a difficult decision. At least I have a week before we leave, which means I can go shopping for a few things this weekend.
“Unless you have another job lined up. I wouldn’t want to mess up your new start date,” he says, sounding miserable.
“No. It works,” I say, cupping my chin thoughtfully. ?I don’t have a start date to consider because I’m not looking for a new job. I have other plans.
He looks shocked, then composes his expressions instantly. “Of course, while in Bermuda, you’ll be expected to look after Brooke on the weekdays, but you’ll have the weekends and evenings to yourself to do as you wish. It will be a vacation for you. A change of environment and scenery that you seem to want so badly.” There’s a prickliness in his tone.
He picks up a pen. “I’ll double your wages for the trouble,” he adds, his tone now brusque and businesslike. It’s like he’s flicked a switch and returned to the Jett I know—always in control, always one step ahead, and always transactional.
“You’ve already increased my wages,” I murmur, still thrown off by the moment we just shared. After Mom’s diagnosis, he quietly gave me a raise. I noticed it on my next paycheck, but he never mentioned it. He took care of me even when I didn’t ask him to. Then after she passed, he gave me another raise. When I questioned it, he told me I was due as I’d been working so hard, even under my difficult circumstances.
“I will give you a little bonus for the trouble, for you having to go to Bermuda and having to delay the start of your notice period.”
“If you insist.” Who am I to argue with that? I’ll be able to have more in savings, because I don’t know how long it will take to start up my business.
“Deal,” he says after a long pause. He holds his hand out to me. For a moment, I’m stunned. Then I take it, feeling the warmth of his skin. His hand is firm, strong, and his fingers curl around mine, sending a jolt through my entire body. It’s like holding a live wire.
I pull my hand away, but the sensation lingers, my heart racing. The muscle in his jaw flexes as he watches me, his eyes darkening for a second. He doesn’t want to take me to Bermuda. I know it. But he doesn’t have a choice.
He looks down at his papers.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice quieter now. “I appreciate it.”
He nods, still focused on whatever paper he’s scribbling on. “Close the door on your way out.”
I turn to leave, my mind still spinning from the conversation. I glance back at him once, but he’s already moved on. He’s back to work, as if our conversation didn’t faze him.
Chapter 12
CARI
How is it that I’ve resigned from my job, but now I’m going on a three-week trip to Bermuda with my boss and his daughter?