Page 12

Juliette

O r not.

After spending all day between the craft store and setting up back at the house, I found myself with Marci back at the school and waiting for Bella.

I even planned exactly where we would get the bows. We’d stop at the big retail chain stores, and then there were a few boutiques that I personally knew of.

But as soon as I saw her walk out of the school gate, I knew none of that was going to happen.

The very excited and happy eight-year-old came back a totally different person.

Her hair and clothes might have been the same, but everything else had taken a one-eighty.

I expected her to run into the car, excited for our shopping together, but she was like a dark cloud on a rainy day when she entered the car.

Even with the obvious change in her demeanor, I still thought I'd give it a go since she had been so excited for it in the morning.

“Are you ready to get your bows?” I asked, trying to get a good look at her face, but she kept dodging me. I waited, but she still didn’t look at me, choosing to cross her arms and pull her iPad out from her bag instead. She started up a small game and mumbled something under her breath.

“What was that, sweetie?”

“I don’t want stupid bows,” she said with a pout.

Oh, no. I knew this too well. If I wasn't careful, we were going to have a tantrum. I just hoped no one said anything today to hurt her or make her think something she loved—like bows—was stupid.

“Really?” I asked and leaned forward to try and get a look at her face again, but she hid it from me.

I knew something must have happened at school, but I didn’t want to call her out on her behavior.

If I did, this might make the whole situation worse.

There was never any use trying to get kids to talk about anything if they didn’t want to. You had to wait until they were ready.

So that was what I did. I waited.

Marci met my eyes in the rearview, silently asking if we should steer off course. I nodded. We could always go later if Bella wanted.

“Anything interesting happen at school today?” I asked. “Did Carly get in trouble for her obvious cheating?”

Bella didn’t take the bait and remained focused on her game, her little fingers tapping the screen a bit harder than necessary.

Okay, then. I took the hint.

The rest of the ride was silent. When we got to the house, she stormed out of the car and went through the door without even waiting for me to get out.

I got out, shooting Marci a look.

“I’ll let you know if we decide to go,” I said. She nodded and motioned for me to go after Bella.

I rushed up the steps and into the house, but she was nowhere to be seen. I walked slowly into the living room, trying to see if she was hiding out anywhere, but still nothing. Getting a bit worried now, I beelined to her room, hovering outside when I found the door closed.

Maybe another nanny would just barge in, but not me. She had to come to me. I wouldn’t invade her privacy.

I should text Lux. But I stopped myself. I was supposed to be the person Bella trusted and the nanny Lux relied on.

I could figure this out myself. And I wanted them to trust me enough to.

“Bella? Are you in there?” There was no response. “Take your time. If you’d like, I’ll be waiting outside for you. I bought us some paint stuff! Maybe we could do it together?”

Silence. I’ll check back later.

I made good on my promise and headed outside, where I had left the canvas and painting supplies set up for us. Gina had also placed some lemonade and Bella’s after-school snacks on the table.

I sat down and started to prep the paint and brushes. I knew at some point Bella would come out; I just didn't know when, so I wanted to make sure everything was ready for her. I had gotten us both some paint-by-numbers-type flower easels that should be easy enough without too much of a headache.

Before I was done readying her paintbrushes, I heard her shuffle her way to the sliding glass door.

She didn’t say anything, so I let her look over what I was doing.

“We can eat first or eat while we paint. What do you say?” I asked without looking at her.

“I can do both.”

I nodded. “Sure thing. Take a seat, little lady.”

I finally looked at her when she was walking up. The frown was etched into her face, making her look so much like her aunt. Technically, she should be doing her homework first, but she had just come from a full day at school—obviously not a good one—and I was giving her an escape.

Besides, homework would still be there later. Maybe it was because I didn't end up going to college, but I didn’t put too much emphasis on getting it done at a certain time. As long as it was done, that was all that mattered.

“It’s paint-by-number flowers,” I said. “I’m not a good painter, so I thought this would be easy enough for me. I heard you do it on your iPad, so maybe you can give me some pointers.”

I placed the food on a stool closer to her seat and easel so she could grab it when she wanted. She silently maneuvered herself onto the seat, her eyes scanning over the colors.

“Purple, please.”

I sent her a smile and dabbed a good bit of purple on the plate for her. She was looking over the numbers on the canvas, but I could tell that she was mapping it in her mind instead of trying to follow the actual assigned colors. I liked it.

She hesitantly grabbed some finger food before using the other hand to pick up a brush, dipping it in the paint.

“Do you like to paint?” I asked and followed suit, picking purple and matching it to the numbers. It was supposed to be pink, but I agreed with her that purple was prettier.

“It’s okay,” she muttered.

“I’ve never been that crafty,” I admitted. “I wanted to be, but I always messed it up, and my drawings never came out right.”

“I like watercolor,” she murmured, smearing her purple a bit too far. “It’s pretty.”

She let out a huff when she saw it went outside the lines, glaring at it as if that could correct it.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “We can fix it later.”

She nodded and dipped her brush again, moving on to another purple section. This time, she tried to slow down her movements, but her wrist flicked out ever so slightly.

“The paint’s too thick,” she growled when she got it wrong again.

“It just takes some practice,” I said and pointed to my sad attempt at the painting. I had purposely colored outside the lines too, but that apparently didn’t make her feel better. “Maybe switch colors?”

She wiped off the brush on the paper towel I set aside for her and picked yellow next.

I should have seen it coming.

As soon as she made the first stroke, it became obvious that she hadn’t wiped it well enough and the purple mixed with the yellow. There was about a two-second delay before she was off the chair and pushing the easel down to the floor.

“Stupid paint! I hate this!”

I put my paintbrush down and got off my seat. Whatever had happened at school had been building up inside her, and I knew it wasn't going to stop there.

“It’s so stupid! I don’t even like this! I don’t know why you had to ruin it like this. I don’t want to do it anymore?—”

And on and on she went, repeating more or less the same things. I quickly kneeled in front of her, trying to get in her line of sight, but she was too worked up.

“Bella,” I said in a calm voice. My hands came to her side, gently rubbing them up and down her arms, trying to ground her.

When that didn't work, I gently squeezed her arms up and down, from her shoulders to her wrists, before taking her hands and squeezing them in a slow rhythm.

This seemed to work a bit better. “ Bella.”

Her eyes washed over me, and her rage turned to heavy breathing. That’s when I saw the tears building in her eyes.

“Take a deep breath with me, sweetie, okay? Bella, hey.” I gently touched her cheek to get her attention, but her hand was suddenly up, swatting mine away.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Okay.” I raised my hands to show her they weren’t going near her. “But can you breathe for me? Better yet, help me do something. It’s a bit silly, but I promise it works, okay?”

Her breathing was getting quicker, tears falling now.

“Pretend we’re blowing out candles,” I said as I held up one hand. “I’m holding them here, okay? It’s not like one or two; there’s a lot of them, so you may need to blow a few times, okay?”

She gave me a shaky nod.

“One, two, three?—”

I started blowing softly, and she hesitantly took a breath and blew out the air onto my hand.

“Good job,” I said with a smile. “Again. A lot of candles, remember? Think twenty-seven. That’s how old I’ll be in a few months. Imagine it’s me and you with a huge cake and all my candles on there. We have about half to go.”

Another exhale, this one longer, and her breathing notably slowed.

“Great! Can you give me one more?”

She nodded, taking a deep breath and blowing them out.

She took a few more deep breaths by herself this time.

I was immensely proud of her. Not many children would get it this fast, and I usually had to try more than once, but Bella was special.

At times, I felt like she was a little bit too grown-up for her own good, but watching her breakdown made me see the child she actually was.

This time, I reached forward to run my hands down her arms.

“You okay?” I asked.

When she met my gaze, sobs built up in her chest as if she couldn’t hold them in anymore.

Oh no. My heart broke for the little girl.

I opened my arms, and she dove into them, her small arms wrapping around my neck and hanging on for dear life. She was shaking with the force that she was using to hold onto me.

“I know, I know. Let it all out.”

I rubbed her back as she sobbed against me. When she tried to crawl into my lap, I moved to sit with my legs crossed and pulled her to me. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and I held on tight.

Her tears soaked my sweater, but I didn’t let go. Not even when she cried all she could. Not even when she just leaned into me, seeking comfort I’m not sure she’d received since her parents died.

I murmured softly in her ear, telling her I understood. That it was okay to cry. And that I wouldn’t leave her.

When I finally looked up to the sliding glass door, I saw Marci and Gina there… and Lux.

She came home early.

I don't know how long she’d been standing there, but it took me by surprise. I didn’t move a muscle. Not until Bella was completely relaxed in my arms.

I stared into Lux’s eyes the whole time, and I could see she was pissed. At me, at the situation, at… Who knows?

I don’t give a shit. This little girl needs me.

Gina and Marci made themselves scarce, sensing the tension.

Small snores came from Bella, making my heart hurt even more for her. How long has she been holding that in? She cried so hard, she exhausted herself. I pulled away enough to look at her, noticing her eye bags.

Does she have trouble sleeping?

“I’ll take it from here,” Lux said, coming out to the patio and carefully grabbing Bella from me.

“It’s okay. She’ll want me to be here when she wakes up so I can?—”

“You can meet me in my office,” she replied pointedly, her gaze telling me that I fucked up.

I bit my tongue, watching her as she took Bella to her room. Her facial expression was unreadable.

“Well,” I said with an embarrassed smile as I passed my coworkers. “I’m likely getting fired. It was nice working with you. Can you point me in the direction of her office?”

Marci saluted me while Gina gave me a pitiful look before replying, “Take the hallway, second door on the right.”

“Good luck,” she whispered, and I just nodded.

Lux’s office was so obviously hers. Large black bookcases with more knickknacks on them than books. A dark desk with an expensive-looking chair and a closed laptop on top. The windows showed the mess of our painting disaster outside.

I walked up to the desk, my eyes narrowing in on the only picture frame there.

I turned it around, my breath catching when I took in the picture of Lux, baby Bella… and probably her sister. They had the same hair and eye color, though her sister’s features were rounder.

The door clicked open and shut, the sound ringing throughout the silent office, and I quickly put the frame back in its position.

“She had a hard day in school and I think it’s all finally coming out now. She needed the cry?—”

Her hands were on me, turning me around and forcing my butt against the desk. I looked up at her in shock. The anger in her eyes had my heart dropping.

“It’s your second day and you’re already making her cry? Even the shittiest one from your agency didn’t make her cry . What the fuck did you do?”

“Excuse me?” I asked, my voice raising.

“You heard me. Fuck, I should have fired you when I had the chance.”

I cocked my head to the side.

“What happened to Mrs. Bella Needs You , huh?” I asked. “Kids cry, Lux. Especially kids whose parents fucking died, and based on what I just saw, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve never even hugged the child.”

I knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

Her hand was on my jaw, her body pushing into mine, forcing me to lean back into the desk. She fit snugly between my legs, but that wasn’t the most damning thing.

It was how hot and bothered I was getting by the position. By the intensity in her stare. And just how woefully inappropriate and wrong it was in this moment.

“Don’t you dare judge our relationship,” she growled. “You don’t know shit.”

I swallowed the fight I still had left in me. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

The words caught her off guard. Enough to bring her back to herself and realize the situation we were in.

She backed away quickly.

“You’re trouble,” she whispered. “I can’t do this. I’m firing you.”