Those Three Words: A Single Dad, Billionaire Boss Romance(17)

“Give me a hug goodbye,” I say as I fall onto my knees and open my arms. She stands up and walks into my arms, wrapping her arms around my neck as I hold her tightly against me. I close my eyes briefly as I savor the moment before planting a kiss on her forehead and standing back up.

“Be good for Miss Silver and Miss Perry, sweetheart. I love you.”

“Love you too, Daddy,” she says as she goes back to coloring.

I make my way back downstairs and think I’ve dodged a bullet when I don’t see Margot anywhere. I’m about to shut the door behind me when I feel resistance and hear her voice again. I can’t help but roll my eyes.

What is with this annoying woman?

“Oh, one more thing, sir.” She’s handing me a piece of paper with scribbles on it. “It’s a card from Eleanor. She drew it earlier this morning and wanted to make sure you took it with you so you wouldn’t forget her.”

I take the paper and nod at Margot.

“Have a safe trip.” She smiles.

I finally slide into the back seat of the car and make my way to the airfield.

“She’s something else, isn’t she.” Phil laughs, interrupting my thoughts as I stare at the picture Eleanor made me.

I shake my head. “She really is. A little annoying,” I mutter, and he laughs even harder.

“It’s nice having some young energy around the house. Earlier this morning she saw me outside and came over to make small talk. Asked me about fifteen questions about this car. Said she’d never heard of a Maybach before.”

“What was she doing out that early?”

“Out for a run I believe, sir.”

Silence falls between us as I imagine her running the grounds, her tempting little body wrapped in spandex.

“She’s young, sir. I’m sure she’s just enthusiastic about her new job, and if I may speak freely?” I mumble my approval and he continues. “She’s probably intimidated by you.”

My eyes snap to his in the rearview mirror. “Intimidated?” I arch an eyebrow because he didn’t see how she just demanded I say goodbye to my own daughter and then proceeded to school me on how I should call her while I’m away. She’s not wrong but I’m not exactly used to be being brought to task by the hired help.

“Yes, sir. She said as much in our brief chat this morning.”

I lean back, letting the thought marinate in my brain for the rest of the drive. I like the idea of her being intimidated by me. I want her to be scared. I want her to keep her distance and stop trying to make small talk and get to know me. Not because I’m just a grumpy asshole but because for as much as I want to snap at her, to tell her to mind her business and keep her distance from me, I also crave her. I don’t trust myself to keep my distance from her. I feel like I’m a ticking time bomb and it’s only a matter of time before I give in and do or say something stupid.

I land in New York, then check into my hotel and head out to meet with my clients. We spend the afternoon in meetings at their headquarters in Manhattan and by the time I return to my room, it’s after nine p.m. Eleanor will have been asleep for hours at this point. I feel terrible but I promise myself that I’ll make time to call her tomorrow.

I’m exhausted. I order room service and work for another two hours before calling it a night and falling asleep in front of the television.

The next morning, it’s the same thing all over again. My first meeting starts at eight a.m., but I get up a few hours early to catch up on work before I head into the office.

I decide to hit the streets for a morning run, inspired by Margot’s run yesterday. I’ve always made it a point to keep myself in shape. I’m naturally lean and tall, but I make sure to stay on top of a healthy diet and regular exercise. I finish a five-mile run in Central Park, then grab a cup of coffee from a cart on my way back to the hotel. I promise myself that I’ll make time to call Eleanor tonight before the day gets away from me.





I check my phone as we arrive at the restaurant. It’s already pushing seven p.m. here in New York, which is six p.m. back home. Eleanor will have eaten dinner by now and is probably playing before she takes her bath and gets ready for bed. Guilt eats at me when I realize I’ve fucked up again. I finish my old-fashioned and slide the glass across the bar.

“Expecting a call?” Jerry, one of the guys, nudges me as I slide my phone back into my pocket. “Got a lady waiting for you back at the hotel?” He laughs hysterically, his large round belly bouncing as his already glowing cheeks redden even more.

He’s had at least four drinks to my one and from the looks of it, he’s probably a functioning alcoholic.

“My daughter back home.” I smile. “I kind of told my nanny that I’d be better at telling my daughter good night.” I didn’t actually tell Margot that, but that’s what my intentions were.

“The nanny,” he says again before nudging me and laughing even harder as a few of the other men join in.

“Well, don’t hold back. Let’s see a picture of her!” another one adds.

“Is she young?”

Instantly, I have to tell myself not to haul off and punch this sleazeball right in the fucking mouth. Instead, I just motion to the bartender for a second old-fashioned. I’d planned on stopping at one, but if I have to sit through another few hours with these idiots, I’m going to need some liquid assistance.