Page 108 of Nine Week Nanny

I grip the back of the armchair, trying to find solid ground. "Sloane, Chris is suing for custody. That's what I was discussing on the phone."

Her eyes narrow. "The deadbeat that doesn't care about anyone but himself?"

"Yes." The word scrapes my throat. "He filed an emergency petition originally to end my temporary guardianship. That is why Lennon and I had to fly to Jacksonville two weeks ago.”

"Why are you just now telling me all of this? You never said anything before or after Jacksonville. Oh, wait. That's right. I'm just the nanny." Her posture shifts slightly. I'm not fixing anything here.

"Stop it. That's not why at all, Sloane. I didn't tell you because I was ashamed. I wasn’t able to be vulnerable. Plus, I didn't want to drag you down with all the drama. My attorney thought thatwhile it was a serious concern, since he is the biological father, that if I showed up and showed the guardian ad litem how I'm providing Lennon with a stable home, he wouldn't get it. And he was right. I thought that was the end of it."

The color drains from her face. She sinks onto the couch like her legs won't hold her anymore.

"So what does that have to do with the phone call?"

"Turns out, that wasn't the end of it. We found out on Tuesday that the judge ruled in our favor after reviewing the report. But he filed a second emergency petition. This time, he claimed I was sleeping with the nanny, putting Lennon in an unsafe home environment."

"What? He knows?" Her voice comes out barely above a whisper.

"Warren, my attorney, called me early yesterday morning, so that is why I was yelling. I was using Chris's words out of anger and fear, and that was wrong. I don't think of you like that. I would never reduce what's between us to that."

She stares at me, mouth slightly open. "I don't even know what to say. How would he even know about me? Why would he care?"

"He hired a PI. He doesn’t care. He's grasping at straws, doing anything he can to win."

"Why haven't you told me?" Her voice hardens again.

I cross to the window, needing space from the accusation in her eyes. "I didn’t know what to do.”

She looks up at me, eyes shining with unshed tears. "If all that's true, why shut me out completely?"

Christ, I've messed this up.

"Because I don't know how to do this." I gesture between us. "I'm not good at talking."

She looks up, waiting for more.

"On top of all this, I've had forty-two nurses walk out of Good Samaritan, threatening our entire takeover. My Denver office needs signatures on acquisition paperwork. I closed on this house yesterday, which should be good news, but it was just one more thing I had to attend to." I drag my hand across my face.

"If there was something there, if I was more than the nanny to you, then you could have let me help you work through all of this."

"You are the only thing that helped me get through all of this."

“The only problem is, I had no idea. That isn't the way this works."

"I told you, I'm not good at this."

"That's not good enough, Pope. You're a grown ass man. I can only do so much if I'm in the dark."

She's right. I don't even know how to respond to that. I still don't know how to do this, how to navigate all of this.

"And furthermore, those words. You said those words about me, even if you were only repeating his words. You didn't correct them."

I move closer, desperate for her to understand. "He called you 'the goddamned nanny' and made crude comments about us. I was furious at him, at the system that would even consider giving Lennon to someone like him. Never at you."

"I can't do this, Pope."

The raw honesty in her voice slices through me. I kneel in front of her, close enough to touch but not reaching yet.

"Please."