Page 10

CHAPTER 10

ANNA

I smooth the blanket over Ellie’s tiny body, watching as her eyelids flutter closed. Across the room, Lucas is already out like a light, his little snores filling the otherwise quiet nursery. It wasn’t on my job description when I started to do nanny duties, but when your boss’s wife needs help, you step up to the plate to answer the call. At least I do.

And peaceful sweet moments like this make the chaos of the day worth it.

Molly pokes her head into the room, a warm smile lighting up her face. “Everyone tucked in?”

“Out cold,” I whisper, tiptoeing toward the door.

Molly crosses the room, leaning down to press a kiss on each child’s forehead. “Good night, my loves,” she murmurs, her voice soft and maternal.

We leave the room together, careful to close the door without a sound. Downstairs, the hum of the dishwasher fills the air as we enter the kitchen. I grab my bag from the counter and start gathering items needed for the next day like extra snacks, additional clothing in case of an accident at school, and some books to read if boredom strikes.

“Thanks for staying late again,” Molly says, sinking into a chair. She slides a notepad across the table toward me. “I wrote a few things down that I need help with tomorrow. Ben’s got a meeting at the rink, so it’s just me with the kids for most of the morning.”

“No problem,” I say, scanning her neat handwriting to see if I have any questions. “I’ll swing by early to get everything started.”

As we go over the list, my phone buzzes on the counter. I glance at it and see Sutton’s name on the screen, followed by a text.

Payment is through, check your account.

Relief washes over me like a wave, and I exhale deeply, my shoulders finally relaxing for the first time in days.

“You okay?” Molly asks, her brow furrowing as she studies me.

I hesitate, debating how much to say. I’ve always gotten along with Molly as a person, and as far as employers go, she is great. I’ve shared personal details with her and asked for advice here and there over the past two years I’ve worked for them. I feel like she’s a good sounding board and I can trust her…even with some of this fairytale lie I’m living in.

“It’s my dad,” I tell her, which isn’t entirely untrue. “I’ve been worried about him, but I just got confirmation that things should start looking up soon.”

Technically, not a lie. Also, technically not the truth.

Molly softens, her gaze sympathetic. “I’m glad to hear that. Neither one of you needs to have anything weighing you down right now. I hate to see you upset.”

Before I can respond, Molly’s phone lights up with a notification. She picks it up, scrolling for a moment before turning the screen toward me. It’s a picture of me and Ollie, sitting at an outdoor table, laughing over ice cream. The caption reads: Hockey’s golden boy and his mystery girl. #OllieAnna

“There’s also this,” she says and then puts the phone back down on the counter. “I know you two are close, but are you hashtag close?” Her voice is somewhere between curious and amused.

I nod, trying to keep my expression neutral. “We’ve been spending more time together.”

“More than usual.” Molly crosses her arms as she leans back in her chair. “The photos from a dinner date with him last night, and the ones from the arena parking lot before that—are all of those a couple of buddies hanging out?”

“We’ll see,” I say as I lift a shoulder and let it drop, trying to be so casual that I’m like a lounge chair.

Molly holds up a hand and does some quick, albeit easy, math. “Three days in a row, Anna. That’s more than good friends, it’s making a statement.”

“Honestly, it’s nothing.” I try not to twitch, hoping I look more casual than I feel. “It’s…a thing,” I say, my words carefully measured. “Like that old saying. The one where ‘it’s a reason, a season, or a lifetime.’”

“And this is?”

“A reason,” I say, staring into space at nothing. “Or a season. He is a hockey player.”

Molly doesn’t look convinced. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you in these photos. There’s something there.”

“It’s not what it looks like,” I blurt out, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.

Molly’s eyes widen slightly. “Then what is it?”

I glance at my bag, debating whether I should tell her the truth. She’s my boss, yes, but she’s also Ben’s wife—but if anyone would understand the crazy lengths you go to for family, it’s Molly.

Taking a deep breath, I sit down across from her. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but you cannot tell Ben.”

Molly leans forward, intrigued. “You have my word.”

I hesitate for a moment before diving in. In the course of a few minutes, minus an interruption from Lucas who wakes up from a bad dream and screams wildly for his mom, I manage to fill Molly in on all of it. From the Ponzi scheme to the threats that both my father and Ollie are getting from outside sources.

When I’m finally done, Molly’s mouth opens in surprise, but she quickly composes herself. “This is a right mess you’ve strolled into.”

“I think I leaped, rather than strolled, before I did any thinking.” I rub my forehead, feeling the weight of it all. “But my first payment came through a few minutes ago, and I’m transferring the money to Dad’s account tonight so he gets it in the morning. This arrangement helps both of us.”

Molly shakes her head slowly, processing what I’ve said. “Anna, that’s…a lot for you to take on. I’m not sure how much your dad owes, but will that ten grand even scratch the surface?”

“It helps now, but are we going to need more? Simple answer is yes, but ten grand gives Dad time to take a hot minute to figure out what to do next.”

Molly’s bright green eyes stay focused on me. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Not at all,” I admit, a nervous laugh escaping me. “But it’s working for now. And I can’t let my dad down.”

She studies me for a moment before reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Just be careful, okay? These things have a way of getting messy.”

“I will,” I promise. “And thank you. For not telling Ben.”

“I won’t tell him for now, however, I’ll ask that you consider letting him in on it. There could be a time you or Ollie need him.” Molly smiles, though there’s a hint of concern in her eyes. “Your secret’s safe with me but, Anna, make sure you’re protecting your heart, too.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. Because deep down, I know she’s right.

And the truth is, I’m not sure my heart is as safe as I’d like to believe.

The familiar hum of the car engine fills the quiet space around me as I head home, the street lights flickering in time with the steady rhythm of my thoughts. As I slow down and pull into the drive, my phone buzzes on the console. Cutting the ignition, I glance over as Ollie’s name lights up the screen.

I smile, warmth blooming in my chest as I hit the button to answer. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says, his voice warm and easy, like a perfectly worn-in sweater. “Just got out of practice. Thought I’d give you a call.”

And that’s what catches me. It’s not like he’s never called before, but tonight it feels different, like it means something more.

“Felt like calling?” I tease lightly, trying to keep my voice casual despite the sudden flip in my stomach.

“Yeah,” he says, laughing softly. “Is that a crime?”

“No, but it’s suspicious,” I reply, biting back a grin.

“To who?”

“To me.”

He laughs again, and the sound wraps around me like a hug. It’s only a phone call, but why does it feel like so much more? Maybe it’s because I have someone calling me. Someone who wants to check in, even if it’s just to say hi. Or maybe it’s the subtle change that happens when you’re in a “relationship.” Suddenly, everything feels like it’s been dipped in magic. Even if it is make-believe.

Or maybe it’s because it’s Ollie.

I open my mouth to ask him a question, but there’s a melody that catches my attention coming through the speaker. “Are you listening to Taylor Swift?”

“Uh…uh,” Ollie stutters, the volume on “Anti Hero” immediately lowered. “Maybe?”

“Post-practice Swiftie moments with Ollie Decker. You know, this would make you very relatable to a lot of people if they…”

“No one needs to know I’m a Swiftie, okay?” He laughs. “If anyone does find out, I’ll know it was you.”

“Fine. Change of subject so I’m not tempted to spill the beans,” I say, steering the conversation before I get too lost in my thoughts. “You leave tomorrow for Chicago.”

“Yep, and we leave early, too,” he says, his voice perking up. “Excited for it. Chicago’s always a good time.”

Ollie then launches into a replay of the night’s practice, treating me to a play-by-play with all the enthusiasm of a kid talking about their favorite toy. His voice is animated, carrying easily through the phone, the sound of his laughter echoing inside my car and making me smile despite myself.

“Leon tried this ridiculous toe drag and wiped out,” he says, the grin in his tone unmistakable. Using the toe drag can be effective in hockey to fake out your opponent and maneuver around them. “He was trying to be slick and tripped himself up.”

“Sounds like quality entertainment,” I tease, my fingers tapping idly on the steering wheel as I listen.

“Oh, it was,” he assures me, his words flowing effortlessly. “I don’t know what he was thinking, but it gave us all a good laugh. Even Ben couldn’t keep it together.”

There’s a beat of comfortable silence before I decide to rip off a Band-Aid Ollie won’t know is coming. I need to get it over with; after all, we promised we’d stay fully honest through this whole process. “So I did a thing.”

“A thing?”

“I told someone about us.”

“What?” His tone sharpens, and I can practically hear him sitting up straighter. “You told someone?”

“I told Molly,” I say, trying to sound as casual as possible. “She asked about us after seeing one of the photos, and I figured it was better to be honest.”

“Molly?” He sounds incredulous, maybe even a little panicked. “Anna, that’s Ben’s wife. What if she tells him?”

“She won’t,” I say quickly. “I trust her. She’s not going to say anything. Besides, she’s on our side. She gets it.”

He exhales audibly, and I can feel his tension through the phone. “I don’t know, Anna. That feels like a risk.”

“Maybe,” I admit, my grip tightening on the wheel. “But I couldn’t lie to her. She’s been too good to me, and she knows how much this is helping my dad.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then sighs. “Okay. If you’re sure…”

“I am,” I say firmly. “It’s fine, I promise.”

“All right,” he relents, though his tone is still cautious. “But let me know if anything changes. Ben finding out would be...bad.”

“You know we keep saying it would be bad if Ben found out, but is it bad?” I know, I’m playing devil’s advocate, but hey—I’m already in deep enough. “Ben finding out wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it?”

“Let’s think about it,” Ollie says, that measured voice of reason coming back across the line. “Ben does not get along with Jimmy at all. If Ben was to find out that you, his assistant, had been asked to do what you’re doing, and then find out why and discover that all of it circles back to me, I’m pretty sure Ben would walk in those offices and lose it.”

“Agreed,” I say. “But then Ben is also being a good coach and protecting you, right?”

There’s another pause, this one heavier, and I sense he’s still mulling it over. “Right, but then who would step in to help your dad?”

The taste of sickness hits the back of my throat. “I’ve painted myself right into a corner, haven’t I?”

“For the right reasons. If we were on trial, I don’t think a jury would convict you,” he jokes, trying to make the moment light. “How’s your dad today, by the way?”

I smile softly at the sudden change of subject. “He’s doing better. Resting and trying not to be too needy from his recliner, even though I keep insisting he be needier. He’ll be back at work this weekend, though. You know how he is.”

“I do,” he says, chuckling. “Glad to hear he’s on the mend. He’s lucky to have you looking out for him.”

His sincerity catches me off guard, and for a moment, I don’t know what to say. “Thanks,” I manage finally.

“Well,” he says after a beat, his voice softening, “I should get going. Pretty sure Dixon’s waiting on me to grab a late dinner.”

“Okay,” I say, feeling a sudden pang of disappointment. “I guess I’ll talk to you soon?”

“I’m gone for five days,” he says, but then adds, “But we can text and stuff while I’m on the road.”

“You bet we can,” I answer, way too eager for even my ears. Why am I being so awkward? We “text and stuff” anyway when we’re not fake-dating. Why am I suddenly waiting for permission or a golden ticket to act the way we usually do? Calm down, Anna . I rein things in, dropping my voice an octave. “Get some sleep.”

“I will,” he chuckles in my ear. We stay this way for a few seconds; I don’t want to say anything for fear I’ll break this little spell we’re under, but then Ollie clears his throat. “Night.”

When the call ends, I glance at my phone, my heart still doing flips. It’s just Ollie. We’ve talked countless times before.

So why does this feel different?

Maybe it’s because I’m starting to realize what I’ve been trying to ignore all along. That somewhere between the pretending and sneaky hanging out, there is an illicit thrill. I’m thinking about him differently. Seeing him in a new light. The way my stomach tangles into a knot when I see him or hear his voice now isn’t just anxiety. It feels like so much more.

Like a test. Or like I’m starting to fall for him.

And that scares me more than anything.