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Wasn’t that the truth. Half of her day was spent reassuring boutique owners that their orders would be there soon. “That’s exactly why I need to be back in Boston. And don’t forget that I have been caring for your child full-time for nearly a month. It’s time I go back to my life and let Oliver start his new one. With you.” That last part had been particularly difficult to say, but the fact that her voice hadn’t cracked only bolstered her confidence. She hadn’t even shed a tear. It was a miracle.
Aiden sat on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. His suit jacket sleeves drew taut across his muscles. How was she supposed to hold her own in an argument when he was distracting her with his physique? “So, I’ll pay you for your time.”
Ah, so he did know how to throw money at a problem. He was just lobbing it in the wrong direction. A breathy punch of a laugh left her lips. “I’m not for hire.”
“I’ll pay you double whatever your going rate used to be.”
She huffed.
“Fine. Triple.”
“You’re a terrible negotiator.”
He shrugged. “I do what’s necessary to get what I want.”
“That would make me the most expensive nanny in the history of child care. I was paid very well for my services. I was very good at my job.”
“You’re only making my argument for me. Money is no object, Ms. Daltrey. If Oliver really is my son, he deserves the best. Sounds to me like that’s you.”
She shook her head. “No way. Absolutely not.” This was not the way this was supposed to go. She needed to put an end to Aiden Langford and his money-throwing, muscle-bulging ways.
Oliver fussed and rubbed his eyes, moving his head fitfully as he woke.
Sarah had spoken too loudly. Nap time was apparently now over. She stood and attempted to hand the baby to Aiden. “Here. Take your son. At least for a minute.”
Oliver refused, clinging to Sarah.
“See? He clearly wants to be with you. I’m a stranger to him. Would you really leave a baby with a stranger?”
She pursed her lips, calculating her best response. Of course she wouldn’t do that. But after the extensive research she’d done on Aiden, he didn’t really seem like a stranger. That, however, was not information she cared to share. Which meant she was back at nothing.
“Even worse,” he continued. “A stranger who doesn’t know how to change a diaper, or what to feed him, or what to do if he starts to cry.”
“No idea? I know you have two younger siblings. You never babysat?”
Aiden threaded his fingers through his hair, tousling it in the process. “No.”
Well, shoot. She couldn’t hand over Oliver to a man he didn’t know, especially not one who might not be able to care for him, even if that had been her plan. Her horribly simple plan. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to take Oliver to a hotel, either. He needs to get used to being with you. And you’re apparently going to need to learn how to take care of him.”
“Excuse me if I haven’t thought it out quite that far yet. This is still a new concept for me.” He blew out a breath, seeming deep in thought. “I guess the thing that makes the most sense is for you both to stay with me. Until we get things straightened out. And I can hire a nanny. I guess I have to buy a crib, too? I mean, really, this is a lot to pile on a person in one day.”
He wasn’t wrong. Maybe it would be in Oliver’s best interest if she stayed for a couple of days, even if it would make it exponentially more difficult to say goodbye to him. As for the to-do list to get Aiden up and running with the baby, it was a long one if she was going to be thorough. They would need time. With the bad hand Oliver had been dealt in life, she owed it to him to spend a few days in New York so he could be off to the best possible start with Aiden. That was exactly what she’d promised Gail. “Okay. We’ll stay at your place.”
“You’ll have to tell me what you want to be paid. I have no earthly idea how much money a nanny makes. Or even what a nanny does, other than everything a parent would do if they were around.”
She’d first said no to Aiden’s money on principle, but if she was going to help him with Oliver, she could get something from him that was far more valuable than a paycheck. She knew from her online snooping that he was a whiz when it came to growing companies. It was in his blood—the Langfords were one of the most successful entrepreneurial families in US history. Maybe he could help her solve the countless problems she was facing with trying to take her business to the next level.
“I don’t want your money. I want your expertise.”
“I’m listening.” He cocked an eyebrow at her, threatening to make her throat close up.
“Business expertise. I want you to help me with my company. Help me find investors. Help me figure out my manufacturing issues and widen my distribution.”
He nodded, clearly calculating. “That’s a tall order. Between that and me going through baby school, this is going to take more than a few days. We’ll need at least a week. At least.”
How long could she do this? Every minute with Oliver only made her love him more. She clutched him, kissed his head, taking in his sweet baby smell. We don’t have to say goodbye today, buddy. I guess that much is good. “Today is Friday. I’ll give you ten days. I teach you how to care for Oliver. You help me with my company.”
“I think I’d be a fool to say no. You have me in a corner here.”
“I mean it, though. Ten days and I’m out of here.”
“Like I said. In a corner.”
“Okay, then. I want to have a say in the nanny you hire, too. And I want to help outfit the nursery.”
Aiden then did the last thing she ever expected. He smiled. Not a lot, just enough to create the tiniest crack in his facade. Sarah felt as if she’d had the wind knocked out of her. His face lit up, especially his eyes. “Anything else?”
“That’s all for now.”
“Just so you know, fashion is outside my realm of expertise. Women’s clothing isn’t really my world.”
Ah, but he hadn’t let her finish. Given Aiden Langford’s reputation for being a ladies’ man, she had no doubt that he was well-versed in her specialty. “Actually, it’s women’s sleepwear and lingerie. Something tells me you know at least a little something about that.”
Three
Oliver in her arms, Sarah climbed out of Aiden’s black SUV, squinting behind sunglasses at the apartment building before them. About a dozen stories high, it had an antique brick facade blanketed in tidy sections of ivy and dotted with tall leaded glass windows. This was not what she’d envisioned for Aiden Langford’s abode. She’d assumed a high-rise overlooking Central Park. Wasn’t that his birthright? Ritzy address and an equally swanky apartment? Instead, he resided on Fifth Avenue at Twenty-sixth Street, in the Flatiron District with a view of Madison Square Park. She had a sneaking suspicion that Aiden was full of surprises. And that this was the first of many.
“Is that one yours?” She pointed at the highest floor. “The one on top with the biggest terrace?”
Aiden wheeled Sarah’s suitcase from the car, lugging the teddy bear that was easily twice Oliver’s size, while Aiden’s driver John unloaded the remaining bags of toys and baby clothes. “The top four floors are my apartment.”
Sarah gulped, surveying the manicured spaces—a formal balcony with stone columns and wrought iron on the lowest level all the way up to one that looked like a park in its own right, each spanning the building. He’d still gone for swanky, merely in a different corner of the city. “That’s a lot of room for a single guy.”
“My third floor is empty. And the fourth floor is all outdoors. I need my space.”
“I’m surprised you don’t live up by Anna and her husband. She was telling me she lives only a few minutes from your mom.”
Aiden cast his sights down at her, his sunglasses revealing nothing but her own reflection. The crinkles in his forehead and the way his brows drew together were enough indication that he didn’t like the question. The driver slammed the car tailgate. Sarah jumped.
“Like I said, I need my space.” Aiden’s voice was stern, like a father telling his wayward teenage daughter that she’d better be home before eleven.
Okay, then. Dropping the subject.
Together, they entered the beautifully appointed lobby. Black-and-white-checkerboard marble floors and a chandelier dripping with crystals hinted at both wealth and good taste. Sarah pushed Oliver in the stroller while she tried to remember to take deep breaths. Everything about this made her heart beat an uneven rhythm—entering into an agreement with a man she hardly knew, staying in his home, handing over the little boy she’d already grown to love more than she’d thought possible. She did everything she could to ignore the feeling in the pit of her stomach, the one saying that each passing minute was another step away from what she was supposed to be doing—leaving nannying behind, once and for all.
Stop being negative. This is good for Oliver. She had to believe that. Really, it was the best scenario for him—a transition period where his new dad could become acquainted with parenting. They’d find a nanny, set up the nursery. In ten days, this sweet little boy would be given the best possible start at a new life. And she’d get back to hers in Boston, a simple and solitary existence with its own rewards, the most notable of which was the chance to pursue a career that didn’t leave her so open to heartbreak.
They stepped onto the elevator and Sarah closed her eyes to ward off her claustrophobia. Plus, every time she looked at Aiden, he got to her with his all-knowing gaze. No wonder the man had such a reputation with the ladies. Most women were probably too mesmerized by his penetrating stare to entertain a single lucid thought beyond, Of course, Aiden. Whatever you want, Aiden.
The elevator dinged, and John, loaded down with the bulk of the baby supplies, held the door for Sarah as she wheeled Oliver off the elevator. They entered a stunning foyer with glossy wood floors, an exotic carved console table and several colorful abstract paintings. Aiden followed with his laptop bag, Sarah’s suitcase and the teddy bear, which was a nice counterpoint to his tailored gray suit and midnight-blue tie.
“Where would you like these, Mr. Langford?” John asked.
“Just leave them here. I’m not entirely sure where everything is going yet.”
John did as instructed, neatly placing the bags on the table.
“Thank you so much for the help. I really appreciate it,” Sarah said to John.
He turned and looked at her as if she had a unicorn horn sprouting from her forehead. “It’s my job, ma’am.”
“Well, we came with a lot of stuff. I’m sure Mr. Langford doesn’t normally make you lug stuffed animals and diaper bags.”
“I’m happy to do it. But thank you. For saying thank you.” He smiled warmly.
Aiden watched the back and forth. “That’s it for now, John. I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”
“I’ll be downstairs, Mr. Langford.” John stepped onto the elevator and the doors slid closed.
“He’s really nice,” Sarah said. “We talked quite a bit while we were figuring how to get the car seat into the SUV. He told me all about his wife and kids. Good guy.”
“Of course. A very good guy.” Everything in Aiden’s voice said that he didn’t know the first thing about his driver, and that it quite possibly had never occurred to him to ask.
“Now what?” Sarah wanted Aiden to take the lead. His house. His baby.
“Tell me why a baby needs a stuffed animal this large.”
Sarah shrugged, unsubtly peeking ahead at what she could see of the apartment, which seemed to stretch on for days. “Kids love to have things to snuggle with. And eventually, Oliver will be bigger than the bear.”
“Ah. I see.”
“You’ll learn.”
“I have a feeling I won’t have a choice.” Aiden leaned her small suitcase against the wall and propped the bear up on top of it. “And how did you get all of this onto a train, then off a train and into the city, all by yourself?”
“Let’s just say that I relied on the kindness of strangers. And I’m a very good tipper. I managed.”
“You’re resourceful. I’ll give you that much.”
Sarah went to get Oliver out of his stroller, but decided it was time to start the learning process. “Aiden. Here. You unbuckle him and get him out.”
“You sure? I don’t have the first clue what I’m doing.”
“You have to start somewhere.”
Aiden crouched down and Oliver messed with his hair while Aiden tried to decipher the maze of straps and buckles. Sarah watched, not wanting to interfere. Oliver was doing enough on his own, tugging on Aiden’s jacket and kicking him in the chest.
Aiden sat back on his haunches, raking his hair from his face. “Is he always like this? So full of energy and into everything?”
“Unless he’s asleep, yes. Now pick him up.”
Aiden threaded his massive hands under the baby’s tiny arms, lifting him as if he might break him if he went too fast, then holding Oliver awkwardly against his torso.
“Bend your arm and let him sit in the crook of your elbow.” Sarah shifted Oliver into position. She straightened Aiden’s suit coat while she was at it. She stood back and admired the change. The strong, strapping man holding her favorite baby on the planet was awfully sexy. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
Oliver leaned toward Sarah, holding out his arms for her.
“I think he wants to be with you.”
Sarah had to be firm. “He’ll be fine. He needs to be with you. Let’s start the tour so we can start planning the nursery. He’ll stay in your arms if we’re busy and there are things to look at.”
Aiden blew out a breath and they strolled into the modern, open apartment. The space had very high ceilings and was decorated almost exclusively in white, black and gray. Everything was meticulous and neat, just like Aiden’s office at LangTel. He was in for a big wake-up call when Oliver took over and there were toys everywhere. Best not to mention that, though. He’d learn.
To her right was a massive gourmet kitchen with an eight-burner stove and seating for six at the center island. Beyond the kitchen, she could see a hint of a dining room tucked away, then a staircase, and beyond that a room with a sofa and the beautiful windows she’d noticed on the front of the building. As a nanny, Sarah had seen grand displays of money, but nothing that hinted at this level of affluence. Although she was no real estate agent, the house had to be at least five thousand square feet if the other floors were the same size. By comparison, her Boston apartment probably could’ve fit inside the kitchen. When Aiden had said he needed his space, he wasn’t kidding.
“The living room is at the front of the building, overlooking the park.”
“Beautiful. Absolutely stunning.” Sarah followed as Aiden led them in the opposite direction.
“This is the library.” He nodded to his right, where black, open-back bookcases delineated the room. The shelves were packed with books. “The room with the French doors at the back of the building is my home office.”
Aiden did a one-eighty and Sarah trailed behind him, past the dining room and stairs, to the living room. It was a grand and comfortable space with charcoal-gray sectional couches, a flat-screen TV above a stacked stone fireplace and a massive glass coffee table. “Another beautiful room.”
“Thank you.” He shifted Oliver in his arms, seeming ever-so-slightly more comfortable with holding him.
“Unfortunately, we’re going to need to babyproof in here like nobody’s business.”
“Why? What’s wrong with it?”
Sarah didn’t know where to start. “There are outlets everywhere. The coffee table is a disaster waiting to happen. I can just see Oliver bonking his head. You’ll probably have to put up a gate to keep him away from the fireplace. As for the rest of the house, that’s going to need an overhaul, too. Those stairs will need a gate, too.”
“Isn’t that how children learn? By making mistakes?” There was no misconstruing the annoyance in his voice.
“Not on my watch, they don’t. At least not the kind of mistakes that put a child in the emergency room.”
A low grumble left his throat. “Talk about turning my entire life upside down.” He shook his head and took what seemed like his hundredth deep breath. “I’ll need you to make a list. We’ll tackle it that way.”
“Not a normal nanny responsibility, but okay.”
“I thought you weren’t a nanny anymore.”
“I’m not.”
“Well then. This is part of our business arrangement. You need my expertise. I need yours.”
“Fine.” Sarah walked over to a long, dark wood console table against the wall, plopping her handbag down to dig out a piece of paper. A handful of framed photographs were directly above—one taken from the viewpoint of someone skydiving, one looking straight down the side of a cliff with a waterfall and jungle in the periphery, and another of a group of men and donkeys on a narrow path carved into a mountainside. Each looked like something out of a movie. “Nice pictures. Are these from National Geographic?”
“Remembrances of my adventures.”
“Wait. What? These are yours?”
Aiden nodded, fighting a smile. He joined her, Oliver in tow. Aiden was doing well with the baby, and she was happy to see him master his first few moments of dad duty. “I enjoy pushing the limits,” he said.
Goose bumps cropped up on Sarah’s arms. A man with a dangerous side held mysterious appeal, probably because it was the opposite of her personality. She’d fallen for a few guys who liked to live on the edge over the years. None of them was good at flexing their bravado in the realm of relationships.
“You’re going to have to set aside your daredevil escapades for a little while. Skydiving is not an approved activity for a toddler.”
He scowled. “I’m not enjoying this part, in case you’re wondering. The part where you tell me how I have to construct my life around someone else’s needs.”
She patted him on the shoulder. “Welcome to parenthood. It’s good for you. It’ll remind you that the world doesn’t revolve around you.”
“Jumping out of an airplane reminds me that I’m still alive,” Aiden countered. “And that I’d better find a way to enjoy my time on this planet.”
There was a somber hint to that last string of words, but she was still piecing together who and what Aiden Langford truly was. It struck her as sad that he lived all alone in this big house, however much it was a showplace. Despite his protestations, Sarah couldn’t imagine Oliver as anything less than a blessing in Aiden’s life, quite possibly his salvation.
Oliver reached for the pictures, pointing to the skydiving snapshot. Aiden stepped close enough for him to touch it.
“Pretty cool, huh? I took that picture. I jumped out of an airplane. Maybe you and I can do that someday. Someday when Sarah isn’t around to tell us what to do.”
Oliver turned to Aiden, concentrating hard on his face. He flattened his palm against Aiden’s cheek. Aiden reached up and covered Oliver’s hand with his, a fascinated smile crossing his face. A sweet and tender moment, it left Sarah on the verge of tears. For the first time since she’d gotten off the train that afternoon, she was less worried about Aiden accepting fatherhood. They weren’t out of the woods, but he was already showing signs of folding Oliver into his life. Which meant one step closer to Sarah being out of it.
Oliver needs his father. His new family. “For now, I still get to tell you what to do, at least when it comes to Oliver. I say it’s time to find him a bedroom in this massive house of yours.”
* * *
Aiden walked Sarah and Oliver up to the second floor, holding the little boy. He was slowly growing comfortable with this tiny human clutching the lapel of his suit coat, keeping him warm and reacting to the world Aiden walked through every day without giving it a second thought. It all was new to Oliver—sights and sounds, people and places. He didn’t play the role of stranger though; he played explorer, full of curiosity. Aiden had to admire that disposition. He was cut from the same cloth.
They reached the top of the stairs and the hall where all four bedrooms were. At the far end was his master suite. There was only one other room furnished, for guests. The other two remained unused and unoccupied. With most of his family in the city, visitors weren’t common, nor would they likely ever be. His friends, small in number and much like him in that they preferred to roam the globe, were not prone to planning a visit. No, the apartment with arguably too much space for a confirmed bachelor had been purchased with one thing in mind—breathing room.
He fought the sense that Sarah and Oliver were encroaching on his refuge. He made accommodations for no one and doing so put him on edge, but it was about more than covering electrical outlets and putting up gates. He hadn’t come close to wrapping his head around his newfound fatherhood, even if he did accept that with the arrival of Sarah Daltrey, everything had changed.
He was counting on the results of the paternity test to help it all sink in. He’d already made the call to his lawyer. It would mean a lot to know that Oliver was truly his. Aiden had lived much of his own life convinced that Roger and Evelyn Langford—the people he called his parents—had lied to him about who Aiden’s father was. Roger Langford’s death nearly a year ago had made the uncertainty even more painful and the truth that much more elusive. He wasn’t about to badger his mother, a grieving widow, over his suspicions. But he would confront her, eventually. He couldn’t mend fences with his family until that much was known, and there was a lot of mending to be done. Aiden had made his own mistakes, too. Big, vengeful mistakes.
“I was thinking we could put Oliver in here.” Aiden showed one of the spare rooms to Sarah. “It’s the biggest. I mean, he is going to get bigger, isn’t he?” Talk about things he hadn’t considered...life beyond today, when Oliver would be older...preschool, grade school and beyond. No matter what, Aiden didn’t need to think about where Oliver would go to school. He would be wherever Aiden was. There would be no shipping him off as his parents had done to him.
“Is it the closest room to yours?” Sarah asked.
“No. The smallest is the closest.”
“That’s probably a better choice for now.” Without invitation, she ventured farther down the hall. “In here?” Sarah strolled in and turned in the small, but bright space—not much more than four walls and a closet. “This is better. It’ll make it easier on you. He still gets up in the middle of the night.”
“And I’ll need to get up with him.” He stated it rather than framing it as a question. He was prepared to do anything to feel less out of his element, as if any of this were logical to him, which it wasn’t.
Oliver fussed and kicked, wanting to get down.
“Let’s let him crawl around,” Sarah said.
Aiden gently placed the little boy on the floor. He took off like a bolt of lightning, scrambling all over the room on his hands and knees.
Sarah pulled a few toys out of her bag and offered them to Oliver. “Yes. You’ll need to get up with him and comfort him, especially when he’s teething like he is now.”
Aiden leaned against the door frame, acting as a barrier in case Oliver decided to escape. “Is that why he drools so much?”
Sarah smiled and sat on the floor with Oliver, tucking her legs beneath her, her dress flounced around her. “My mother used to say that’s not drool. It’s the sugar melting.”
Aiden wasn’t prone to smiling, let alone laughing, at things that were quaint and homey. But he couldn’t have stopped if he’d wanted to. He drank in the vision of Sarah. She was so different from every woman he’d ever known. She was beautiful, but not made up. Eloquent, but not pretentious. There was no hidden agenda, nor did she seem concerned with impressing him. She just came right out with it, but didn’t mow people over with her ideas. She simply stated what she found to be best, in a manner that made it seem as if it were the only logical choice.