Baby for the Billionaire(51)
Despite her outer calm, he sensed a certain level of nervousness—almost anxiety—and couldn’t help but wonder what caused it. He allowed the silence to drag while he considered the various reasons for her turmoil. She could be nervous because she was lying to him about something, in which case he’d find a way to get to the truth. The irony of that fact didn’t escape him, considering this entire interview was a huge fraud. Even so, he needed to trust his future wife, which meant all the cards on the table. Of course, she could be nervous because she didn’t handle interviews well. One other possibility occurred to him, one that caused his gut to tighten and an unwanted hunger to gnaw at him.
Maybe he made her uneasy. Maybe she’d experienced the same odd awareness that he had. She didn’t break the lengthy silence with a rush of nervous explanations the way many would have. That fact alone impressed the hell out of him.
“Let me be frank, Annalise. I’m concerned that you may change your mind midsummer and take a teaching position, leaving me to go through this process all over again. Isabella’s had enough trauma and loss in her life without experiencing another so soon.”
“That won’t happen.”
Instinct told him that she spoke with absolute sincerity. Even so, he sensed an intense emotional current that continued to ripple just beneath the surface, though he still couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason for it. Perhaps it was a simple case of interview jitters. He glanced down at her file.
“I see you’ve also had some training with special-needs.”
She stilled in the act of brushing another loosened curl away from her eyes. Her expression grew troubled. “Has Isabella always been a special-needs child? Or is today’s incident related to the plane crash?”
He hesitated, choosing his words with care. “It started after she came to live with me. I want to make sure I hire someone who can help her adjust. Frankly, I don’t think you have the necessary experience.”
“Is she seeing a counselor?”
“I don’t have much choice in the matter. CPS has insisted.”
She raised an eyebrow at his dry tone. “With good reason. Children of that age can be manipulative. If she feels like you’re cutting her some slack because of her loss, she’ll use that for as long as it works. You should also consider talking to one yourself in order to learn how to best provide for her needs.”
He leaned back in his chair and lifted an eyebrow. “Do I look like the sort of man who can be easily manipulated? Or is it just that you don’t think I can provide for her needs?”
“Look, I’m not saying you can’t or shouldn’t give her love and stability and reassurance. I’m just suggesting you don’t allow pity to make you too indulgent.” Then she grinned, the vibrant flash of it arrowing straight through to his gut. “And now I’ve moved from dispensing unwanted advice to lecturing. It’s well-intentioned, honestly.”
He knew it, just as he knew it was advice identical to that of the psychologists he’d consulted. “How would you deal with her temper tantrums? If I hire you, you won’t be able to do what you did a few moments ago and hand Isabella off to someone else. Next time you’ll be the one in charge.”
“I’ll try a variation on what I did today. Ignore her screaming when practical, making sure she can’t injure herself. Remove her from the situation when necessary, particularly if we’re in public. Afterward, talk to her in a calm fashion and make it clear that her behavior is unacceptable. In time, when she doesn’t get the response she’s hoping for, she should stop.” She offered a wry smile. “Of course, then she’ll try something else.”
Curiosity filled him. “What did you say to her before you put her out?”
“I told her that screaming is unacceptable behavior, and that there are consequences when she chooses to resort to a tantrum.”
“What sort of consequences?” His eyes narrowed. “Do you believe in spanking?”
“No, I don’t,” she retorted crisply. “Do you?”
A smile loosened his mouth before he could prevent it.
“No.”
“That’s a relief.”
“So, if you don’t utilize corporal punishment, then how do you plan to change her behavior?”
He was genuinely curious, since none of the methods he’d attempted had worked. Of course, he had not been consistent, nor had he been Isabella’s main caregiver except for those first weeks immediately after the plane crash. Right on the heels of her release from the hospital, his work obligations had taken up most of his time, limiting the hours he spent with her. Plus, he doubted the interim sitters he’d employed had helped the situation. There hadn’t been any consistency in his parenting and it showed.