Twenty-Seven: Pierce

TWENTY-SEVEN

PIERCE

I slid Harlow’s payment into an envelope and made a mental note to have it delivered later.

Picking up my phone, I dialed Jerry.

“Yes, sir?” he answered.

“Can you give Miss Hawthorne one final ride home, please?” I looked out my window. “She should be arriving at the lobby any second now.”

“Miss Hawthorne just told me to go fuck myself, sir.”

“Come again?”

“She suggested that I come upstairs to do the same to you once I’m finished, so I can finally remove the stick from your ass.” He cleared his throat. “What time would you like me to assist you with that today?”

I hung up.

Don’t think about her for another second, Pierce. Just let her go. Once and for all, let her go.

Following soft snores, I walked to the twins’ bedroom, amazed that she-who-I-refused-to-name managed to get them into a comfortable sleeping routine. Their new nanny—whoever she would be—could easily pick up right where she left off.

I wanted someone with three decades of childcare experience, and I’d make an exception if she were married. That would actually fit my lifestyle better, and I’d allow her family to live in one of my other suites.

I wanted someone who never wanted to leave the condo outside of picking up and dropping off Olivia, someone who didn’t push my buttons about everything,and most importantly, someone I would never think about during my work day.

I sat on the chair across from the cribs and checked my email.

“Hey, Uncle Brooks.” Olivia plopped onto the mini sofa.

“Reading some updates before dinner.”

“When you get done, can you remind Miss Hawthorne to wear all-black for my poetry show on Thursday? I don’t want her to forget.”

“Miss Hawthorne doesn’t work here anymore. You’ll have a new nanny by then.”

“ What ?” She sat up. “Why?”

“Because she quit.”

“What do you mean?”

“She decided that she didn’t want to be your nanny anymore.”

“No, she…” She shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t like her anyway,” I said. “This is a good thing, isn’t it?”

She narrowed her eyes at me and tilted her head, reading me like I read potential clients during meetings.

“You must’ve done something, Uncle Brooks,” she said. “There’s no way she quit the same day she stood up to Headmaster Helen and withdrew me from the Academy.”

“She did what?”

“You fired her, didn’t you?”

“Let’s back up to the part of this conversation where she pulled you out of school without my permission,” I said. “I’ve already paid your tuition for the year.”

“They’re mailing you a prorated refund check.” She was glaring at me. “Miss Hawthorne wasn’t planning to quit. Especially not now, since she was trying to be my friend, and I know it. She also promised.”

“In that case, she’s also a liar .”

“I hate you, Uncle Brooks.” Her voice cracked. “I really hate you.” She rushed out of the room.

I watched her disappear in disbelief.

Olivia had never spoken to me in that way before. Sure, she’d been upset with me about small things here and there, and I’d been frustrated with her as well, but hate?

Never.

I leaned back and waited for her to return and apologize.

Preferably before the twins wake up…

Several minutes passed, and the only movement in this room was from William rolling over to face Charlotte.

“I hate you, Uncle Brooks.” Her words continued to play in a loop, and as much as I wanted to deny it, they hurt like hell.

Deciding to be the bigger person, I walked down the hall to her bedroom and knocked on the door.

“Olivia?” I asked. “Olivia, we need to talk.”

“Go away.”

“After we talk,” I said. “Can I come in?”

She didn’t answer.

“I’m coming in,” I said, pushing the door open.

I headed for my usual seat, but it wasn’t there. None of the decor I was used to seeing was.

Gone were the airy skies and custom air balloons that an artist charged me thousands of dollars to create. The walls were now painted in a stunning coral-pink sunset, accented by white and purple iron butterflies and cloud-shaped bookshelves.

Her white sleigh bed had been replaced with an elegant grey tufted king, and the teddy bear collection was nowhere to be found.

Only more butterflies.

The more I looked around, the more I realized that this better reflected her personality.

When the hell did all this happen?

“Olivia?” I sat on the edge of her bed. “Olivia, turn around and talk to me.”

She rolled over with teary eyes.

“Why do you hate me?” I asked.

“Because you took away Harlow,” she said. “She was starting to become my friend.”

“You can make better friends,” I said. “I could’ve sworn you didn’t like her anyway.”

“I was just holding out because I didn’t think she’d last.” She sniffled. “I really liked her, and the twins did, too.”

“The twins are still learning that crayons don’t belong in their mouths. They don’t know much of anything.”

“They don’t cry when you leave for work like they did with the other nannies.” She didn’t laugh at my joke. “They listen to every page of Daddy Loves Me when she reads it. They never did that with anyone else; they don’t even make it the whole way through when you read.”

“I’m sorry that you’re upset, Olivia, but I did what was best.”

“For us or for you?”

We’ve officially spent too much time together.

“You might like your new nanny more,” I offered. “That seems to be the pattern lately with each nanny lasting longer than the one before, right?”

She turned away and pulled a blanket over her head.

“Get out of my room, Uncle Brooks. I would like to be left alone.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I mean every word I say.” She sounded just like me. “Should I say them in French for you to better understand?”