CHAPTER 3
1036 Words
Riley Monroe hadn’t expected her third day as a live-in nanny to include a personal driver, a private preschool drop-off, and a five-year-old discussing dark matter before breakfast.
But that’s exactly how her morning began.
“Did you know black holes eat light?” Emma asked from the backseat of the sleek black SUV. “And time goes slow near them.”
Riley turned, coffee in one hand, a bag of cut fruit in the other. “So you’re saying I have an excuse when I’m late now?”
Emma cracked a smile behind her sparkly face mask. “Only if you're near the event horizon.”
“Fair. I’ll start carrying one in my bag. Emergency time-warp excuse.”
Emma giggled. The sound was tiny but real like music in a quiet room.
Across the divider, the driver glanced at Riley in the mirror. “She likes you.”
“I like her too,” Riley said softly, brushing a curl from Emma’s forehead. “She’s pure stardust.”
Emma leaned her head against Riley’s arm for half a second before straightening.
Riley didn’t react, but her heart swelled.
It had taken three days of triangle toast, space jokes, and bedtime whisper-stories, but Emma Carter was opening up. Slowly. Carefully. But undeniably.
And that meant Riley was doing her job.
Even if everything else in her life still felt like a lie.
By the time she returned to the penthouse, Riley had a missed call from Caleb, two unread messages from Ethan, and a knot forming in her stomach.
> You’re avoiding me.
I can come by tomorrow. We need to talk. For real this time.
She didn’t respond.
Instead, she texted Caleb.
> You eat? Homework done? Trash out?
> All of the above. I’m not 8, Riley. You don’t have to mom me from Midtown.
> It’s either me or social services. Pick a trauma.
> Touché.
Riley slipped her phone into her pocket and exhaled. The guilt was constant now living in this plush palace while Caleb handled school and ramen alone. But until she could afford something better, this job was their shot.
Even if she had to keep pretending Caleb didn’t exist.
Even if she had to keep pretending Nathaniel Carter didn’t affect her.
He was already home when she passed the study later that day, shirt sleeves rolled up, jacket off, tie abandoned. His forearms were resting on a mahogany desk the size of her old living room table, and his gaze was locked on some document she couldn't see.
He didn’t look up. But she knew he felt her.
There was something in the air when he was near. Like pressure. Like static. Like if she breathed wrong, she’d ignite something they couldn’t undo.
She kept walking.
But her pulse didn’t.
Later that evening, after helping Emma construct a galaxy mobile out of glow-in-the-dark paper and glitter glue, Riley stepped into the kitchen just in time to see Martha placing a covered dish in the fridge.
“You look like you’ve been attacked by a nebula,” Martha said, eyeing the glitter on Riley’s arms.
“Emma said stars don’t shine unless they stick to skin,” Riley replied.
Martha snorted. “Creative. That one’s always been brighter than the rest.”
Riley leaned against the counter. “You’ve been here a long time.”
“Long enough to watch Nate turn from boy to man. Then from man to fortress.”
Riley blinked. “That’s poetic.”
“True, too.” Martha wiped her hands. “His ex-wife Emma’s mother was all surface. Glamour, glitter, headlines. She liked the camera more than the crib. Nate tried, but it ended ugly. Fast. Public.”
Riley swallowed. “That’s why he’s so guarded.”
“That’s why Emma stopped talking for nearly a year,” Martha said, softer now. “Until you.”
Riley’s throat tightened.
She looked down at her hands, still sparkling with silver specks, and wondered if any of this warmth, the laughter, the tiny smiles would survive if Nate found out about Caleb. Or worse, Ethan.
Before she could spiral, footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Nate entered the kitchen, dressed in all black, sleeves still rolled, shirt clinging a little too well to muscle.
Riley turned, busying herself at the sink.
“Emma’s asleep,” he said.
“She counted planets backward and requested a lullaby about Saturn’s rings,” Riley said over her shoulder. “I improvised.”
He moved closer. “You’re good with her.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
She turned to face him.
They were closer than she expected. Not touching. Not even brushing. But the air felt thick. A hum between them.
“I don’t want to screw this up,” she said quietly.
“Then don’t.”
“It’s not that simple.”
He tilted his head. “Something you’re not telling me?”
She hesitated. “Not tonight.”
He studied her, like he could pry the truth from her lips with his eyes alone.
“I know secrets,” he said after a beat. “They always show up eventually.”
“Even if you lock them in a vault?”
“Especially then.”
Their silence felt dangerous now. Like gravity was shifting.
She stepped back, breaking the charge.
“I should clean up.”
“Riley.”
She looked up.
“Whatever it is, you're not alone in it. Not anymore.”
The words caught her off guard.
And before she could say anything in return, he turned and walked away, leaving her blinking against tears she hadn’t expected.
That night, Riley sat on the edge of her plush bed, scrolling her phone, still feeling the echo of his voice.
She hadn’t come here to fall for anyone. Especially not the boss. Especially not a man who made contracts instead of promises.
But he had noticed her and really noticed her.
Not just her body or her sarcasm or her ability to make Emma laugh.
He saw something in her that terrified her to admit.
And worst of all she was starting to want him to keep looking.
- Writer
