***
It hit Bryce what a disaster he’d created somewhere around the homewares department.
He was looking at table runners, wearing a stupid grin he was sure no man had ever worn before, not while shopping for dining accessories, when it occurred to him that he’d fallen in love with Meg. The kind of love that hit you over the head with the concussive force of an iron skillet. Bryce fancied he could see cartoon stars in his peripheral vision, circling his head, along with a flock of madly chirping birds that mocked him over how cuckoo he’d become.
‘What do you think of this combination?’ Meg asked, holding up a deep maroon table runner and some napkins the colour of milky coffee.
Bryce struggled to form an opinion about napkins when his heart was racing to complete the four-minute mile and every sense he possessed was distracted by the light floral scent Meg wore. It brought back memories of how her lithe body had squirmed excitedly beneath his this morning, driving him wild, activating his primal instinct to claim.
This
morning
. Not last night, during the dark hours that constituted their agreement about one solitary night to indulge their passions, but in the bright morning hours after he was supposed to have sated himself. He had planned to bring Meg breakfast in bed, have a mature, sensible chat about how they could never sleep together again and then spend the rest of the day as far away from her as possible so he wouldn’t be tempted to initiate a repeat performance.
Then he’d caught her trying to sneak away, had witnessed her tears, and every resolve he’d formed had crumbled beneath the weight of her distress. He’d held her, feeling guilty that he was the cause of her upset, but instead of fixing the mess he’d made he compounded it by ravishing her body again.
He couldn’t keep his hands off her, it seemed. It was bad enough before, but now that he knew the heaven of being with her he didn’t know how he was going to stay away.
‘Bryce?’
‘Pardon?’
Meg lifted the items in her hand so he could see them better. ‘The colour combination. What do you think?’
Bryce forced himself to focus on the items in Meg’s hand. ‘It’s nice.’
‘I think the runner will go well with the blonde wood of the new table and I saw some curtains with this exact same
café au lait
hue as a base a little while ago.’ She looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes. ‘Can we get them?’
With those eyes, she could ask him for a gold-plated Porsche and he’d find a way to get it for her. ‘Of course.’
‘Yay!’ She clapped her hands and bounced on her feet, the picture of happiness.
Bryce felt about ten feet tall, just because he’d made her happy.
Yep, you’re in love with her, you idiot.
Dragging his attention from Meg with effort, he signalled to the sales clerk who’d been not-so-subtly trailing them through the store. The young man had sensed a huge commission the second Bryce had walked in and had been suitably attentive for the past two hours. It was clear the clerk assumed Bryce and Meg were a couple, and Bryce didn’t disabuse him of the notion simply because explaining the real situation would have been awkward in the extreme.
And maybe because it was a nice fantasy he couldn’t resist playing along with.
That’s all it is Bryce, a deluded fantasy. And if you’re fantasising perhaps she is too. You have to stop this.
‘Okay, back to curtains and then I swear that’s it for today. You don’t want me to buy out the whole store.’
‘My credit card can handle it, Meg. If you want to keep looking, let’s do it.’
‘No, we’ll get the curtains and go home. Phillipa will be back this evening.’
The mention of his daughter settled over them like a storm cloud, raining reality upon them. Whatever this was — this aberration, this stolen weekend — it was over the instant Phillipa returned and Meg once again morphed into the nanny, his employee.
She never stopped being your employee, Bryce, but you slept with her anyway. You took advantage. You took her virginity.
You are scum.
Meg located the curtains she wanted and the sales clerk once again wrote the items down on the long list of things that would be delivered to the house tomorrow. The man’s eyes lit up when Bryce produced his platinum card. The hefty transaction was completed in little more than five minutes.
Once in the car park, Bryce couldn’t resist taking Meg’s hand. He loved the way it fit so perfectly inside his, the way her slender fingers curled around him. Unable to squelch the urge, he stopped in the middle of the garage to pull her in for a kiss, a slow, aching kiss that he stole because he knew it would have to be the last. He would have to let her go, once and for all.
He didn’t have it in him to give Meg the kind of relationship she deserved — romance, love, marriage, a true happy ever after. He couldn’t, not after Isabelle. That experience had left him jaded and soul weary, when what Meg deserved was someone with the same kind of optimism and sense of fun she possessed. She needed someone who would love her unreservedly instead of holding back because he was afraid of being hurt again.
She needed someone — anyone — other than him.
And he really needed to get her out of his house so he wouldn’t be tempted to ask her to settle for whatever facsimile of a relationship he could give her.
***
It wasn’t as difficult as Meg imagined it would be to slip back into the role of Phillipa’s nanny when she returned around dinnertime that Sunday. The girl was full of interesting news about her mother’s trip and the many lavish gifts she’d brought back for her, and her chatter kept Meg and Bryce distracted during the simple dinner of chicken, potatoes and peas that Meg prepared. Afterwards, Phillipa wanted help with her hair and a Butterfly Meadow story read to her because she insisted she was much too tired to do the reading herself. Meg braided Phillipa’s hair, but Bryce offered to read the book.
Something in Meg’s chest tightened when Phillipa’s eyes lit up at the thought of her father reading to her, and she had to sneak out of the room with a huskily issued goodnight before father or daughter saw tears swimming in her eyes.
See, Meg? It’s super easy to go back to being just the nanny…tears and erratic pulse rates aside.
Meg disappeared to her quarters, showering and changing into her pyjamas although it wasn’t yet nine o’clock. She thought it best not to emerge from her room again, so she read in bed for hours, willing sleep to come. At midnight she was still awake, nonsensically wounded that Bryce hadn’t come to her room after Phillipa was asleep, when she’d never thought for a minute he would. A sordid, stolen encounter while his daughter slept upstairs? That was not Bryce’s style. It wasn’t hers either, and she would have thought less of him had he suggested it.
So it made no sense at all that she missed Bryce like crazy as she lay alone in her bed. Her heart felt compressed by a vise and her body was cold without the heat of Bryce’s touch. The tears she’d managed to keep at bay all evening finally slipped out of her as she drifted into a fitful, yearning sleep.
The following morning she awoke early and attended to Phillipa’s breakfast. In the kitchen she found a note from Bryce, explaining that he had an early meeting and had already left for the office. He occasionally had early meetings, but for the last couple of weeks he’d been making more of an effort to share his breakfast with Phillipa and, by extension, Meg. His absence felt like a snub.
What did you expect, Meg? You slept with your boss! Things were bound to get awkward.
More and more she was realising how idiotic she’d been to believe she could share Bryce’s bed and then have things go back to the way they had been. She got Phillipa off to school, her heart in her throat as she said goodbye to the girl she’d grown so fond of. Being Phillipa’s nanny had always been a temporary position, but somewhere along the way Meg had gotten attached — to father
and
daughter. In some fantastical corner of her mind she must have begun to dream the situation would become permanent, that by some miracle of circumstance she’d never have to leave the tri-level house in Rose Bay.
Some miracle like Bryce falling in love with her and asking her to stay forever.
Idiot! You’re no better than those other nannies who hoped for the same thing.
She was going to have to quit before her heart shattered completely.
Her resolution put her in a sombre mood for the rest of the day, and not even the delivery of the new furniture and decorations for the dining room could pull her out of it. She’d give two weeks’ notice, at least, so she had time to explain her leaving to Phillipa. She couldn’t tell her the real reason, of course, but she’d think of something to soften the blow. She owed her that much.
Phillipa came home from school and there was a flurry of activity to keep Meg distracted once more. Bryce stayed late at the office, calling Phillipa to say goodnight because he wouldn’t be home until after her bed time. Exhausted and heartsick, Meg crawled into bed that night feeling worse than she had the night before.
The following morning Meg woke just after dawn and quickly got dressed. She was determined to see Bryce before he left for the office this time. When she got to the kitchen he was there, already dressed in his suit and pouring himself a cup of tea.
Meg froze for a minute, staring at his austere profile as he lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip. He must have sensed her presence because he turned and met her stare. In the grey morning light, his brown irises appeared black, as black as the shadows beneath his eyes. He looked haunted, tired, as though he’d slept as badly as she had.
Her heart did a sickening flip-flop at the sight of him. ‘Bryce…hi.’
‘Good morning, Meg.’ There was no evidence in his brisk tone to support what she saw with her own eyes — that he was miserable and heartsick, like she was.
You’re imagining it, Meg. He doesn’t care for you the same way you do for him.
‘Did you sleep well?’
Crikey. What kind of question was that? ‘No. I haven’t been sleeping well at all. I’m a wreck.’
His lips curved, but the smile was sad rather than amused. ‘I can always count on you to tell the truth, Meg. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.’
If he started cataloguing things that he admired about her right now, Meg thought she might be sick. She swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Do you have a minute before you leave? I need to talk to you.’
‘And I you,’ he said, surprising Meg. She’d had the distinct impression he was avoiding her. That curve remained on his mouth, still not quite looking like a genuine smile. ‘I have some good news.’
Meg’s heart bounced up and down a few times. Good news? What could it possibly be? The possibilities rushed through her head.
I’ve fallen for you. I want us to start dating. I’m in love with you. I need you more than I need my next breath. I want —
‘I’ve found you another job.’
Meg’s racing thoughts screeched to a halt. Bryce’s announcement hung in the air between them, floating there like the aroma of freshly brewed tea. Meg tried to speak, to ask what he meant, but her voice had completely deserted her.
In response to her silence, Bryce went on. ‘It’s with a design firm, small but prestigious. They need an assistant so you’d be doing little more than fetching coffee to begin with. But if you show potential you could be promoted to designer in time.’
‘Uh.’ It was the only syllable that would come out, yet Meg was relieved her mouth produced any sound at all. Bryce had gotten her a position with an interior design firm, the very thing she’d come to Sydney in hope of finding. He was handing over her dream job on a silver platter.
Why didn’t she feel happier?
Swallowing, Meg forced herself to say something. ‘That’s…I don’t know. I’m stunned. How...?’
‘Never mind how it happened,’ Bryce said, swiping his hand through the air as though he could erase her curiosity so easily. ‘This is an opportunity for you, one too good to pass up.’
He was right, of course. A position with a design firm was something she’d wanted for years. Still… ‘You used your contacts, your influence, whatever you call it. You called in a favour to get me a new job.’
Bryce lifted a brow. ‘Do I sense an objection?’
‘I want to be hired on my own merits. I want someone to give me a chance because they see potential in me, not because Bryce Carlton says do it or else.’
He looked at her, his brown eyes as soft as velvet. All too soon, the softness was gone. His jaw set in a hard line and the turn of his lips became cynical. ‘That’s not how the world works, Meg.’
‘Not for you, apparently.’
‘Not for anybody,’ he shot back. ‘Don’t even think of wasting this chance because of your silly pride.’
‘So I’m silly, am I?’ The query came out as a rasp, giving away how close to tears she was. Mortified at her inability to veil her distress, Meg averted her face. She grasped the kitchen counter and fixed her gaze on a spot outside the window.
She heard the soft click of Bryce’s shoes on the tile, felt the electric pull of his body as he moved closer. His voice was a low murmur. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
Meg ignored the instinct that willed her to melt into his arms and seek comfort. It was madness, given that he was the one who was hurting her. She concentrated the remainder of her energy on making her voice clear and composed. ‘If you wanted to get rid of me Bryce, you could have just said so. You didn’t need to strong-arm some poor business associate’s wife into giving me a job.’
‘I didn’t strong-arm anyone. I suggested your name to a few people until someone nibbled, that’s all. That’s how things are done.’
‘So it’s in the how-to guide for getting rid of one’s employee after you’ve inconveniently slept with her?’
Her biting words resounded in the air like the reverberations after a particularly loud thunderclap. Bryce turned away, presenting his back to her. ‘That’s not fair, Meg.’
For the first time since she’d encountered him this morning, there seemed to be real emotion, even desolation, in Bryce’s tone. Meg regretted her harsh words, words she’d flung at him intending to cause the very injury they had. She knew that in his way, Bryce was trying very hard not to hurt her. He was being as kind as he possibly could while he was kicking her out on her butt.