Page 10

Twenty dollars an hour was not nearly enough. And she hasn’t even had a day off yet. She hasn’t complained. She doesn’t curse or ever seem irritated or annoyed.

And I hate myself for staring at her ass every time she walks in front of me. Or her breasts when she’s distracted enough to not notice.

Or the way her gray eyes twinkle when she tells me the tales of what her and the girls did that day. When she dances and sings as she cooks and cleans the kitchen. She’s a breath of fresh air. And I’m a fucking asshole for wanting her.

What woman, young or not, would in their right mind want a man like me? Not even divorced yet, single dad of three kids, and about to retire after the season ends.

I’ve thought long and hard about it and I’ve decided to just retire when my contract ends. I have no idea what I’ll do with my time, but I do know that I want to make it up to my daughters for never being around for them.

I want to take them on vacations, go to all of the events at the school with Avery, even the parent-teacher conferences. I want to go to dinner with them whenever we want. I want to take them to New York instead of my parents always coming to Minnesota.

I want them to have a normal life.

By the time I retire, I’ll be thirty-nine.

I have been playing hockey for over three decades, over thirty fucking years.

And what do I have to show for it? Busted knees, scars, herniated discs in my spine, four concussions, and metal plates in my head, not to mention the screws and metal parts that make up my entire right leg.

And three little girls that I barely spent time with until this year.

It’s a no-brainer.

Will I miss the ice? Fuck yes. Will I still skate and play in a local league? Probably until the day I can’t anymore.

But something’s got to give. At least that was the one good thing Brittany was good for. She woke me the fuck up when she left. I know that a divorce can take several months, sometimes years, but I just want it over with.

By the time we get home, the girls are whining about being hungry again. Lillian has them go wash up and heads straight to the kitchen, washing her hands as she stares down into the sink with a deep frown on her face.

I sit at the island and tilt my head at her. “Are you… okay?”

She startles and nods, turning off the water before drying off her hands on the towel beside the sink.

“Sort of… I opened up the documents when I went to the restroom after we had lunch earlier… I… That’s way too much, Morgan.

Over ten thousand dollars for the month?

The paperwork said you’re paying me monthly.

I don’t understand how it’s that much, it must have been a mistake.

” Her eyes are tearing up and she looks like she’s about to hyperventilate.

I don’t want to scare her by touching her, so I stay where I am, perched on the stool.

I lick my lips and shrug. “That’s how much you’ll make until I hire a housekeeper.

You do everything around here and it’s going to be more hectic when Avery starts school.

She signs up for almost every after school program, she’s also mentioned she wants to start a sport, then there’s Nessa to think about.

She needs to get back into school eventually.

Kindergarten starts next year and the private school that Avery attends is…

advanced. There’s a lot for her to know and she’s behind. ”

Lillian takes a deep breath through her nose and nods.

“Okay… Get me the school’s name and I’ll print everything she needs to be prepared for.

There has to be a reason why she doesn’t like daycare or preschool.

I’ll work with her on that and I’ll help Avery choose what she’s interested in.

I really don’t mind cleaning… I live here and don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage, which I absolutely feel by making that amount. ”

I chuckle and rub my hand down my face. “I don’t think you know how much I make in my position…

I’ve been with the Mavericks for a very long time.

I was twenty-one when they picked me up and I’m thirty-nine in a few months.

Almost eighteen years, Lillian. Our team has made the playoffs at least five times since I’ve been on the team.

“I was captain until I suggested James to take over a few years back, I wanted a break from having so much responsibility on the team and he’s been great.

Sorry, I’m rambling… Lillian… Ten grand a month is…

literally nothing to me. The house is paid off, the cars are paid off.

Avery’s school is paid in full until she graduates from high school.

Their college funds are filled. I have more money in different investments, stocks, bonds, and charities that I have two different investment firms and financial advisors with my portfolios, with enough money in my main checking account to pay you for the next twenty years, in cash… upfront at the amount I’m paying you.

“I don’t flaunt my money. But you don’t need to worry about it being a mistake or taking advantage. You’re taking care of my daughters. I want the best, and you deserve to be paid for it.”

She blinks at me repeatedly and shakes her head.

“Money has always freaked me out,” she sighs and turns to the fridge, pulling out a ton of items in her arms and starts to chop vegetables on the counter after taking her time washing them in the sink.

“Well, if I’m going to be here for a while, I can tell you a little bit about my past.” She clears her throat and shakes her head.

“My… parents adopted me as a baby, my birth parents were teen parents and didn’t have the means of raising me, supposedly.

My adopted mom was an actress, her husband a director.

We lived in LA and traveled a lot, so money and lavish lifestyles are honestly not new to me.

“When I started my period at a young age… They started acting really weird. Parading me around weird parties, older men constantly talking to me. I just figured they wanted to finally introduce me to their friends.”

Tears stream down her cheeks and she wipes them on her shoulder.

“I was sold to pay my parents’ debt because their movies kept tanking.

Luckily the man that ‘bought’ me was an undercover cop…

he was undercover for so many years, that no one suspected a thing.

Instead of taking me to a creepy basement, a cage, or a drug den or something, he took me to the police station and I was asked a million questions.

” She smiles sadly and sighs. “A social worker took me to a group foster home when there were no available families in the area at the last minute. A few weeks later, a sweet older couple drove all the way down to LA from San Francisco and they took me home.”

I frown… it’s harder to not want to pull her into my arms. “You don’t talk to them? I thought you said you didn’t have anyone or any support? What happened to them, if you don’t mind me asking.”

She shakes her head. “Betty has Alzheimer’s and Francis passed away about ten years ago.

Their ‘real’ kids don’t allow me to visit her in her nursing home.

They took me off of the visitor’s list and told me they would call the cops if I ever showed up again.

I didn’t have the money for legal help, so I just went to school.

I think I just kept pushing myself harder and harder, trying to get my ‘siblings’ to notice me, to see that I don’t care about Betty’s money, I just loved her.

But they never did. They blocked my number, social media accounts… ”

I open and close my mouth several times, I have no idea what to say. “Holy shit… I am so sorry. I wish I had something to add, to say.”

She shrugs and sends me a soft smile. “I received a ton of free therapy from my high school and college. It’s helped a lot.

And then all of my health issues after, it just…

I’m glad to be out of that city, that state.

Betty doesn’t remember me at all and she doesn’t have much time left anyway.

I’ve made peace with it. At least I was there for her when Francis passed away.

Not one of their children came around until Betty was taken to the hospital after leaving the house and going missing for several days…

“She was trying to walk to the high school she met Francis at. So of course her real children took control of her estate, her house, and her money. That’s all they cared about.

They already sold her house, her cars… took everything valuable, and are probably smiling while splitting the interest from her bank accounts.

Francis was a banker for decades, made his way up to CFO, and she was a real estate agent. They had a ton of money.”

I just shake my head. “I’m an only child… but I’m not close to my parents, as we’ve talked about. I just can’t imagine doing anything like that to my sibling, blood related or not. I still can’t imagine all you’ve been through, you mentioned health issues… are you okay now?”

She shrugs. “I’m on medication for everything now, hormones mostly, like an old woman. Speaking of, I need to head to the pharmacy next week to fill my script. I already called it into the one down the road… Blythe’s I think?”

I chuckle. “Yeah, that’s where I get mine filled, Vince is a great guy. Well, if you ever need anything, if you need a day off for a doctor’s appointment or something…”

She waves it off and puts two casserole dishes in the oven. “I’m perfectly fine now, I promise. I don’t need another checkup for like eight months.”

I try to figure it out without asking a million questions.

She seems healthy. If it was cancer she’s obviously in remission, or close to it.

I shake out of those thoughts. She's not mine. She’s my nanny and she will tell me if there’s anything I need to know.

Especially if it’s something that can harm the children in some way.

Like if she passes out or has a seizure or something.

Nothing like that was on any of the medical papers with Lindahl’s Nannies though.

“I’m going to go into my office for a bit, call out when dinner is ready?”

She nods and waves me off and I end up sitting with the girls in the playroom instead. I need to get my head on straight. I can’t be attracted to my nanny, even if she looks nineteen but talks like she’s in her forties.

She’s been through so damn much. Teen parents that couldn’t care for her, then being adopted by pedophiles and sick pieces of shit.

What would have happened to her if she was sold to a predator and not an undercover cop? Was that the first time her adopted parents did something so vile like that?

Then everything with her foster family. Fucking hell, she’s so young to have been through so much.

I want to save her, protect her, and comfort her.

I want to sue the shit out of those people who are blocking her from seeing her foster parent.

I want to murder her first adoptive parents…

I hope they’re in prison. I think I was too fucking shocked to ask more questions, it would be a quick internet search away to get my grabby hands on the information.

It’s her past, her life, her trauma. I’m sure there was a lot more she didn’t tell me.

The comments about control, the flashbacks. There must have been more going on in that house for her to have that response. Maybe in time she will open up to me again.