Page 8

Xavier

I wouldn't say I know Vivi well, but I can tell she's uncomfortable. Professional composure can't hide what her stiff body language is screaming. She wants me out of her office. After our last two interactions, I'm not surprised. Every time she sees me, I'm a walking disaster.

Her back is ramrod straight as she stands beside her desk, shuffling things around needlessly. So I do the one thing I can to make her more comfortable, uncap a pen and grab one of the balls waiting to be signed. Before picking up the next one, I risk a glance over my shoulder, catching sight of Vivi stretching to reach her phone on the opposite side of the desk.

My foot that's rocking the stroller falters at the sight of her bent over the desk. She has to push up on the toe of one of her black heels to reach the device, and the green dress she's wearing pulls tight across her heart-shaped ass. For the first time in a long while, I take a moment to appreciate her beauty--like really appreciate it--because you can't be in the same room and not notice Vivi. She's got it all. She's sharp, focused, and has really distracting curves.

In another life, I'd have already made a move. But I'm not that guy anymore. I'm surviving, not thriving. And until I can carve out more time, relationships will have to wait.

I'm halfway through the pile of memorabilia when a cry comes from the stroller. Holland only got a fraction of her bottle earlier, and the half-ass job I'm doing of rocking the stroller while I sign isn't cutting it.

I've learned to do a lot one-handed over the past month. If I can manage a shit-covered shower without dropping her, I can finish signing this stuff while I hold her.

Unbuckling Holland, I scoop her out of the stroller and cradle her against my chest, suddenly wishing I had taken Vivi up on that chair.

There's an audible sigh from behind me, and when I turn towards Vivi, her eyes are closed and she's muttering under her breath. I don't get the impression that it's directed at me, but I've misread her before.

This seems like the worst possible time to interrupt her, but I ask anyway. "Um. Do you think I could get that chair?"

Her eyes open and she pushes back, but doesn't look up at me. "The chair is really the least of your worries, isn't it?" Or at least I think that's what she says, but I can't be sure. She might be talking to herself with the way she's rambling.

I fight a chuckle I know she wouldn't appreciate.

"Let me take Holland so you can focus on signing, and I can get back to work."

I hesitate, unable to pinpoint why. It's not a matter of trust, it's a matter of wanting to prove I can do this.

"That's not--no. I'll take the chair. I can sign while I hold her--"

"Xavier, stop. I know you can, but I need you out of my office at some point today. Please let me help."

I sigh, running a hand through my hair before conceding. "You're sure?"

"So sure. I know I'm not as warm as Tenley, but I promise you I don't hate babies."

Her self-deprecating comparison to her niece bothers me more than anything else she's said. She can be blunt, but to hear her think that about herself sparks a protective instinct in me I've only felt for a few others.

Holding Holland close, I walk over to Vivi, bending to her level. I look her in the eye and say, "Whoever made you think you weren't warm was a fucking idiot." I let the obscenity slip in front of my daughter because it's important Vivi knows how serious I am.

Her green irises meet mine, their softness stirring something inside me. I'm not sure I deserve the tenderness she's offering, and the irony isn't lost on me--I'm about to give her a lesson on her own worth.

"I know cold--I've seen it firsthand, and you're so far from it . . ." I shake my head. She doesn't need my tragic past, so I focus on what I've learned about her. "You can't run this place without having a selfless heart. Anyone who's spent even a minute with you in the presence of Tenley or the kids you work with every day can see the protective fire in your eyes. You're not just warm. You'd burn down the world to make sure the people you love have everything they deserve. Hell, you even stood up for me and you don't even like me."

"Did not."

There's the heat I was talking about, dancing wildly as she tips her chin up at me.

"You so did." She didn't have to save my ass. She could have sent me home, but she didn't. "There's very few people that would stand tall in front of Braxton and professionally tell him to pound sand, but you did, for me."

She licks her lips and I trace the movement, all too aware of how close we are right now.

"No, I did that for me. I really didn't want to work with Braxton."

I shake my head. "Whatever you say. I like my version better."

When I get an eye roll in return, it feels like the closest thing to a win.

Vivi doesn't wait for me to pass Holland off, taking her from me like she's done it thousands of times before. "Go sign things. We can't have you disappointing all of your fans ."

"Was that--Are you teasing me?"

She hums, her teeth pinning her lip, holding back what I know would be a stunning smile. "Let me tell you about the first time I met your dad. Doesn't that sound like fun, Estrela?" She rolls the r so effortlessly that I can tell it's an endearment she's comfortable with.

I want to ask her what it means. But I don't get the chance because her voice shifts to a sweet whisper as she rats me out to my daughter with the embarrassing story of the time she rightfully handed me my ass when I assumed she was a fan, not just a woman doing her job.

A lump forms in my throat as I step back and I can't explain why. The simplest answer is fear--fear over Holland not having her mother in her life. But there's something deeper, something about seeing someone else look at her the way I do, as if she's everything pure and good in this world. She deserves that.

The air in the office is too thick, and I'm more determined than ever to get this over with and leave. I block out the sound of Vivi's chair squeaking, and the gentle hum of her voice as she talks to Holland. I focus on signing one ball after another, then move on to bats and jerseys, trying to drown out the pull in my chest.

By the time I cap the Sharpie and turn around, I'm raw. As if one glance from Vivi could strip me bare and reveal all my shortcomings.

With every intention of getting the hell out of here, I turn toward her desk, finding Holland asleep in her arms. Like a natural, Vivi taps at her phone, using the thumb of her free hand. It's funny, I would've never described Vivi as cold, but the way she looks right now is more serene than anything I could have pictured.

The room seems to expand around me, and the suffocating tension I felt a moment ago lifts. I sit on the table, watching her finish the message, one eyebrow raised, but otherwise completely at ease.

"Want me to take a selfie so you can stare some more?"

A soft chuckle rumbles out of me, but I don't hate that idea nearly as much as I should considering she didn't correct me when I pointed out that she doesn't like me. "You'd have to have my number to send it to me."

"Too bad." She hums, her mouth curving and revealing a dimple I hadn't noticed before. She lifts her chin, and the softness in her expression vanishes, replaced by the professional demeanor I'm more familiar with. "It's none of my business, but what are you going to do about a nanny for her?"

I scratch at the stubble on my jaw. These days, shaving only happens when it becomes unbearable, or when Holland finally goes down for the night without too much fuss. Vivi follows the movement, studying me with quiet attention.

"Some of the wives and girlfriends are helping, but I can't keep relying on them. It's not fair--they've got their own lives. And Cruz and Lilah are going to need help too when their baby arrives."

"So, you're going to find another nanny?"

I let out a frustrated laugh, tipping my head back and staring at the ceiling for a moment. I'm doing everything I can, but it still feels like I'm falling short, and I don't need a reminder of that.

She must sense the misstep because she quickly adds, "The only reason I'm asking is because Tenley really enjoyed spending time with Holland. She hasn't found a summer job yet." Her voice falters a little now. "This might be a terrible idea, but she asked if you were still looking for someone. I'd never hear the end of it if she found out I saw you and didn't check."

That's not at all where I expected this conversation to go.

Her face and her words don't match; I can read the hesitation written all over her pursed lips. "Listen, you don't seem sure about this. If you have doubts about Tenley watching Holland, maybe it's not the best idea. Besides, how would it work with her school schedule this fall?" I ask.

"It's not about Tenley's ability--there's no one more caring. She'll treat Holland like her own."

Vivi's gaze drops to Holland before returning to me. Her brows are drawn together, and her expression is serious, studying me like I'm the threat. It's the same protective instinct I have for my daughter.

"There would need to be rules, clear expectations. When school starts again, Tenley is a student first and a nanny second. Her hours would cut back, drastically. She can only be a piece of the solution, not the whole answer. If this impacts her studies--"

"It's over," I answer for her.

"She can stay when you're out of town, but no moving her in. She's young, and needs time for friends--distance from the job when she's off--a life outside of work."

Her protective instincts are on full display now, laying down boundaries. The implication that she's calling the shots on my childcare doesn't sit well.

Sadly, I'm all too aware that I'm out of options and time.

"Anything else?" I try to mask my annoyance.

"Not right now, but I reserve the right to change my mind."

My tongue rolls against my cheek. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"I need to talk to her, make sure she still wants to do this. You two can meet and work out the details after that."

Do I want a woman that doesn't like me calling shots on my business? No, but Tenley is my best option. "She's lucky to have you."

It's true, even if it's just my way of smoothing things over.

"Listen, I know it sounds crazy, but in my family, if you don't go to college, you work for the family business, and I want her to have options." Vivi stands, gathering Holland into the stroller with one last lingering look. She straps her in, then turns to me. "Now, get out of my office so I can do my job."

"I think you're forgetting something." I adjust the buckle on Holland's chest, even though it's fine.

"Doubtful," she volleys back, but the corner of her lip twitches up a little.

Grabbing a Post-It and pen, I scribble my number down, then place it in the center of her computer screen where she can't miss it. "My number, so Tenley can reach out to set up a time to talk. If she's interested."

Vivi plants herself behind the desk, her fingers digging into the back of her leather chair. Her tongue rolls over her teeth, trying to keep quiet.

"I let you set your rules, and I respect where you are coming from, but I'm going to set some of my own. First, she has to want to do this. I can't go through another nanny that's going to walk away. And you both need to understand where my daughter is concerned, I am in charge. You can't be in the middle of this all the time. I'll do everything you asked because I'm a decent person, but I don't want you trying to dictate things. Tenley would be my employee. End of story."

"Fine," she says, pulling the sticky note from her screen and dropping into her chair, dismissing me from her office.