The Nanny and the CEO. Rebecca Winters

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ it felt right to have come to her grave first.

      This early in the morning there was only his chauffeur, Paul, to see his tall, dark lone figure get in the back wearing a pale blue summer suit and tie. As he closed the rear door his eyes flicked to the newest state-of-the-art infant car seat he’d had delivered. Before the morning was out, he’d be taking his ten-week-old boy back to the city with him.

      “Let’s head over to my in-laws.”

      His middle-aged driver nodded and started the car. Paul had worked for Nick’s dad, back when Nick had been in his early teens. Now that his father was semiretired and Nick had been put in as head of the firm, he’d inherited Paul. Over the years the two of them had become good friends.

      Once they left the White Plains cemetery where members of the prominent Hirst family had been buried for the past one hundred and fifty years, he sat back rubbing his hand over his face. In a few minutes there was going to be a scene, but he’d been preparing himself for it.

      Prior to the baby’s birth, Nick hadn’t lived with Erica over the nine months of her pregnancy. Her death had come as a tremendous shock to him. Though he’d allowed her parents to take the baby home from the hospital, he hadn’t intended on it lasting for more than several weeks. In that amount of time he’d planned to find live-in help for the baby. Because of his guilt over the way their marriage had fallen apart, he’d let the situation go on too long.

      When Nick had phoned the pediatrician in White Plains who’d been called in at the time of delivery, he’d informed Nick that if he hoped to bond with his son, he shouldn’t wait any longer to parent him on a full-time basis.

      The doctor gave Nick the name of Dr. Hebert Wells, a highly recommended pediatrician who had a clinic on New York’s upper west side and could take over Jamie’s care. Then he wished him luck.

      Following that conversation, Nick had phoned his attorney and explained what he wanted to do. The other man had contacted the Hirsts’ attorney to let them know Nick was ready to take over his responsibilities as a father and would be coming for Jamie to take him home.

      Erica’s parents had wanted Nick to wait until the nanny they’d lined up would be available. They wanted control over the way their only grandchild—a future Hirst who would carry on the family tradition—would be raised. That meant having equal input over everything, the kind of children he associated with and where he would attend school from the beginning through college.

      But Nick wasn’t willing to wait any longer. Through their attorneys he promised to consult them on certain matters and bring Jamie to White Plains for visits, but deep down he knew nothing he said would reassure them. Time would have to take care of the problem.

      Nick’s family, who lived on Long Island, wanted control of their only grandchild, too. But they were at the family villa in Cannes with friends at the moment, confident Nick would do what had to be done to keep his in-laws pacified.

      “Erica’s parents seem willing to keep him for now,” his mother exclaimed. “It would be better if you let Jamie stay with them for the next year anyway. You can go on visiting him when you have the time. It’s the best arrangement under the circumstances.”

      Nick knew the script by heart. His own parents had already found another suitable woman for Nick to meet when he was ready. They saw nothing wrong in letting Erica’s parents oversee Jamie’s care, a sort of consolation prize to remove their guilt by association with the son who’d divorced “the catch of the season.”

      Their attitude came as no surprise to Nick. He’d been an only child, raised in virtual luxury by a whole staff of people other than his own parents. What they never understood was that it had been a lonely life, one that had caused him great pain. He didn’t want that for Jamie. But deep down he felt nervous as hell.

      Though Nick might have been the whiz kid who’d risen to the top of Sherborne-Wainwright, a two-hundred-year-old family investment brokerage, he didn’t quite know what to do with Jamie. The world of a two-and-half-month-old baby was anathema to him.

      He’d visited him every Saturday, but was an unwelcome visitor as far as Erica’s family was concerned. They had a well-trained, well-vetted staff, plus a private nurse to see to Jamie’s every need.

      Weather permitting, he would carry the baby outside to the English garden where he could get away from the officious woman in her white uniform. Otherwise Nick remained in the nursery, but he was superfluous in the help department. The staff had everything covered ahead of time. That in itself made it impossible for him to get close to his son.

      As the old Georgian colonial estate came into sight and they passed through the outer gate, Nick determined everything was going to change, starting now. He alighted from the back of the limo. “I won’t be long, Paul.”

      The slightly balding family man smiled. “I’m looking forward to seeing him. He’s bigger every time we come.”

      That was the problem. Jamie was changing and growing with each passing day and Nick wasn’t here to see it happen. The commuting had to stop so the fathering could begin.

      Before he reached the gleaming white front door, Erica’s father opened it. Walter had a full head of frosted brown hair and a golfer’s physique. Erica’s parents were handsome people, but his father-in-law’s glowering expression brought out Nick’s temper, which he did his best to keep under control.

      “Walter?”

      “Before I let you in, I want you to know Anne’s in a highly emotional state.”

      “You think I’m not aware of that?”

      The older man grimaced. “She asked me to tell yo—”

      “I know it by heart, Walter,” he broke in. “Though I can’t go back and change the past, I intend to do the right thing for our son. I told that to Erica when I stopped at the cemetery a little while ago.”

      Walter’s eyes flickered as if he were surprised by the admission. After a slight hesitation he said, “Come in the dayroom. The nurse has Jamie ready for you.”

      “Thank you.”

      After three years of marriage—the last year spent in separation while the divorce was being finalized—his in-law’s home was full of ghosts from the past. In the beginning his wedding to Erica had been happy enough. Everyone claimed the lovely Hirst daughter was the catch of the season, but time proved they weren’t meant for each other, and she’d spent a lot of her time here rather than the city.

      There’d been unmet expectations and disappointments on both sides. The sameness of their existence had become so severe, they’d drifted apart. The last time they’d been intimate, it had been a halfhearted attempt on his part to rekindle what they’d lost, but the spark was gone.

      He followed his father-in-law through the house until they came to the dayroom, a contemporary addition that had been constructed after Erica had moved back with them. No doubt to keep her busy with something to do while she waited for the baby to come.

      Anne’s series of decorators had filled it with pots of flowers and rattan couches covered in bright prints of pink and orange. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked several acres of garden and manicured lawns that were green and smooth as velvet.

      His mother-in-law sat in one of the chairs, stiff as a piece of petrified СКАЧАТЬ