Page 21

21

MIA

I hesitantly walked into the kitchen, looked around, and let out a relieved sigh. Michael had already left. Of course, I immediately felt bad for being relieved that he was gone because this was his house. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see him. It was just getting increasingly difficult to be around him and ignore the tension between us.

I’m talking heavy, electric, impossible to ignore—no matter how hard I tried—explosive sexual tension. I couldn’t give into it even when he looked at me in that dark but incredibly hot way he did. He’d given me that look last week when I got home from my date, and I’d gotten so hot and bothered that I almost threw caution to the wind to dive back into bed with him.

It was clear that Michael entertained thoughts about sex between us because he’d stopped hiding it. Maybe we’d be in the middle of a hot and heavy sexual relationship right now if I hadn’t put a stop to things when we were in Minnesota. However, that was my problem. I wanted more than a sexual relationship. I wanted wholesome forever love like my grandparents had. It seemed Michael just wanted to possess my body because the sexual chemistry between us was off the charts.

I doubted he’d want anything serious with me because he still thought I was too young for him. I didn’t blame him. Why would an accomplished, billionaire father of one want something serious with his twenty-one-year-old nanny who barely had her life together? The thought of us as a serious couple was laughable.

Swallowing the sadness that washed over me almost daily when I thought about it, I told myself that things were looking up. They really were. With Michael’s generous salary, I was almost out of debt… my ex-boyfriend’s debt, that is.

When I was no longer being threatened by bookies, I’d find that fucker, Logan. I’d squeeze every cent I paid on his behalf out of him. I snorted at that thought. Knowing me, I’d likely let it go and move on with my life, but making him pay was a nice dream.

“Things are looking up,” I said into the empty kitchen. I’d get my life on the right track soon. Straightening my shoulders, I inhaled the sweet fragrance of my new responsible self and went to wake Poppy.

I stepped out of my car… Well, Michael’s car. The one I had access to for taking Poppy around town when his driver wasn’t available. Although it wasn’t mine, I was glad I didn’t have to show up to my parents’ by bus, taxi, or my brother’s generosity.

For my twenty-second birthday, I was having dinner with the family, and I was finally out of the useless loser category. I had a job and everything. Smiling, I teetered up the driveway on heels that I didn’t usually wear for casual get-togethers. It went with the sophisticated pants suit I wore and my no-nonsense up-do hairstyle.

At the door, I straightened my blazer and rang the doorbell. My brother answered with a smile.

“The girl of the hour has arrived. Happy birthday, kidd?—”

I shot him a pointed stare.

“Mia… a very adult Mia,” he finished with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes as he moved in for a hug, but I grasped his shoulders and gave him air kisses instead. Jonathan drew back to give me a quizzical luck. “What the fuck was that? Since when do you act like Mom?”

“Watch your language, Jonathan.” I gave him a disapproving look. The look-down-the-nose one our mother had perfected.

“You sound like her too.” My brother swept me from head to toe and realization gleamed in his eyes. “Oh my God. What are you wearing? Mia, this is ridiculous.”

“Shush,” I snapped. “This will be the one family dinner where I’m not looked upon as the odd one out.” I inhaled and smoothed a hand over my impeccably laid hair. “I’m one of you this evening.”

Jonathan shook his head at my haughty tone as he closed the door. “Mia, you don’t have to do this. We love you. You know that.”

I sighed. “I know that you do. I’m not quite sold on Mom and Dad…”

He got the sympathetic and concerned look in his eyes he always got when we were around our parents. I squeezed his arm affectionately in a silent gesture to tell him to stop worrying about me. I then squared my shoulders with the confidence I barely felt. I figured I could hide behind the clothes, hair, and makeup for a few hours with my parents. They’d see me as their brand new daughter who had her head screwed on straight, and I could make my escape knowing I finally had their approval.

I walked into the dining room with a smile that almost faltered when I saw my dad’s stern face. He sat at the head of the table with an open newspaper. I kept up my smile and glided over to him, the way Mom would.

“Hello, Father,” I greeted him in a cool, steady stone… which was unlike the bubbly “Hey, Dad!” he usually got.

When I gave him a peck on the cheek, he gave me a bemused look like the one Jonathan had given me. “Mia…” He studied me over the glasses perched on his nose. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” I waltzed over to Mom, who was in the process of taking a dish out of the oven. She pulled off her mitts as I got closer and gave me a once over. “Mia, you look nice.”

Warmth spread through me. It was the first time hearing those words from her mouth. “Thanks, Mom.” I assessed her tailored slacks and silk blouse. She always looked impeccable, even at home. “You look great, as always.”

She smiled. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” After giving me air kisses, she said, “You’re finally taking my advice about your clothes. I hope you’ve burned those crop tops, ripped jeans, and flip-flops.”

The warmth that engulfed me cooled a bit. That was my mother… She showed affection—more than Dad—before she got condescending. “Erm… sure…”

From my periphery, I saw Jonathan raise his eyebrows. I ignored him because I felt foolish for resorting to pretending to be someone I wasn’t to please my parents.

“Can I help with anything?” I asked.

“It’s your birthday.” She shooed me away. “Go, sit. Catch up with your father.”

My plastic smile somehow remained in place. Chatting with Commander Sergeant Major Clarke… yikes . He hadn’t mellowed out an ounce since retirement. As I walked over to him, my feet dragged, weighed down with dread.

An hour later, I’d survived the excruciating task of small talk with my old man, and dinner was under way. It was so mentally taxing having to remember not to slouch or not to use the wrong fork for my salad. Having June Cleaver and Captain America as parents was tough…

“So…” I began to quell the awkward silence. Perhaps I was the only one feeling awkward because I was a chatterbox. “Thanks for this birthday dinner, Mom.” I was surprised when she’d called and told me to come over for my big day.

“I had to do something to see you. You haven’t visited your father and me for what… four months?”

Her disapproving look that made one feel like shit hit me hard, and heat filled my cheeks. “Well, I’ve been busy.”

“Doing what ?” Dad asked, lifted an eyebrow. “Last I heard, you were still job hunting.”

I mentally rolled my eyes at the subtle insult. “I have a job now,” I said proudly.

“And you’ve held onto it for four months?”

My molars clamped together at the shock in his tone. Granted, I had a history of flitting between jobs, but would it kill him to be proud of me for something ?

“She has,” Jonathan said brightly. “And she’s doing great, aren’t you, sis?” He winked at me. “Did you see the car she came in?”

I gave him a pointed look, trying to tell him that he was helping too much.

Dad’s sharp, dark brown eyes cut into me. “I did. You can afford a car like that after four months?” His gaze shifted to Jonathan. “I thought you said she was looking into waitressing.”

The disapproval was heavy in his tone, as if waitressing wasn’t a good, honest job.

“She was, but she changed lanes. She’s actually?—”

“Ahem.” I cut my brother off, and he winced and mouthed sorry . As annoying and overbearing as Jonathan was, he got protective of me around Dad. He knew what our father’s constant disapproval did to me. I gave him a grateful look. He was a good big brother. He said he was proud of me for going out of my comfort zone to try my hand at being a nanny, and he was thrilled I’d held on to the job.

“I’m a nanny,” I announced proudly. Unfortunately, as I looked at my parents, I was disappointed by their unimpressed expressions. “You know, one has to be responsible to be a nanny,” I added.

Jonathan, bless his heart, nodded enthusiastically in agreement. “Mia is doing really good.”

His approval did nothing to help sway Mom and Dad.

“Is that what you plan to do with your life?” Dad asked. “Be a nanny?”

My heart dropped. I was so tired of the what-do-you-plan-to-do-with-your-life bit, as if I wasn’t already doing something with it. “Well, no… I haven’t really…”

“What about college? You’ve yet to enroll in any.”

“You should go to college, Mia,” Mom interjected. “Look at your brother. He’s so successful…”

As my heart plummeted some more, I tuned her out because I’d been hearing the “look at your brother” speech since I was freaking born. It was hard to live in my brother’s shadow… I suspected I’d remain hidden behind him for the rest of my life.

“Mom, that’s enough,” Jonathan said.

“No, it isn’t,” she insisted. “You’ve made something of your life because you decided what you wanted to do and you went to school for it. It can’t be that hard for Mia to do the same.”

“I am making something of my life,” I grumbled. “I’m in a great job right now. I work for an affluent man, and his daughter is just lovely. I’m getting paid really well… more than some people with degrees.”

“Enough to afford that car parked in the driveway in a few months?” Dad inquired with raised eyebrows.

My face burned with embarrassment. It was like he wanted to accuse me of stealing the fucking car! Taking a deep breath to rein in my temper, I calmly explained, “Actually, it's not mine. It’s my boss’s.”

“He allows you to drive his car?” Mom asked. “And just how well is a nanny paid?”

“Yes,” I bit out. “He trusts me, and the car is really for driving his little girl around. I get paid a little more because of some extra duties like?—”

“ Extra duties?” Mom clutched her literal pearls. “What else are you doing for this man, honey? I hope you’re not sl?—”

“Mom,” Jonathan scolded.

I gasped. “I am not sleeping with my boss if that’s what you’re implying.” Well, I’m not sleeping with him anymore… although I really want to… “That all came out wrong. I’m a live-in nanny now, and I do a lot of extra hours because my boss is super busy and sometimes I travel with them…”

I stopped my rambling because things had already been shot to hell. I didn’t manage to impress my folks at all. They still saw me as their loser daughter. Shoving down my tears, I stayed quiet, listened, and gave a few dutiful “Yes sirs” as Dad went on his usual rant about my lack of direction and what I should be doing at my age.