Chapter 11

11

A t the end of every summer, my grandparents throw a massive party at their compound on the outskirts of Boston. It's one of Rory's favorite events, even though there aren't a lot of other kids there for her to play with. Probably because a lot of the attention falls on her, and she's doted on by everyone.

My grandmother, who would do anything to make her great-grandchild happy, goes all out. In addition to the large pool and waterslide they already have, she gets a bounce house, a magician, a cotton candy and popcorn machine, a milkshake station, and more food and specialty desserts than anyone could ever eat.

And because my grandmother likes to mess with shit she likely knows better than to mess with but doesn't care, she personally invited Estlin to join us after I made some noise about how she's the nanny and didn't need to come.

It's been three weeks since Estlin came to live with us. Two weeks since I lost my head about some asshole—who I've since come to find out is gay—kissing her. After that little meltdown, I've vowed to get my shit together .

And in these two weeks, we've fallen into a routine. School, studio, work, life. Things with Estlin have gotten both easier and harder. Easier in that I've learned how to spend the least amount of time with her as possible without it being construed as dickish. Harder in that now that I'm avoiding her and spending less time with her, I think about her more.

Everything in my day revolves around her.

She's constantly in my thoughts. If we're both at home, I'm wondering where she is in the house and what she's doing. If she's out somewhere, I'm wondering who she's with. When she picks up Rory or is in the car with her, I track them on my phone.

But it gets worse than that. I watch her.

When she's playing with Rory or in the living room playing piano—something I fucking love that she does—or simply reading in the back den that overlooks the garden, I make up an excuse that brings me near her.

Estlin is growing into a fixation. One I don't know how to stop.

She's sweet and funny and smart and considerate and adoring with Rory and is so fucking beautiful she takes my breath away. Why couldn't she have been an eighty-nine-year-old grandmother of fifty grandchildren like mine?

"What's so interesting?" Katy asks, holding Willow in her arms, only for me to immediately snatch her and tuck her against my chest. I kiss Willow's tiny head and then her cheek.

"I don't get to see enough of her." I glance up. "Or you."

"I know. But you're dodging my question."

"Rory is playing in the pool."

"Uh-huh." Katy's eyebrows bounce suggestively. "And the fact that she's playing with a stunning, partially rainbow-haired brunette who has curves that make me both drool and jealous has nothing to do with it, right? "

"First of all, don't ever talk to me about your curves. Second of all, absolutely not."

"She looks like a pinup, dude. Your nanny has an hourglass figure whether you like it or not, though we both know you do."

"Please stop," I beg. "That's honestly not helping anything."

"Fine," she grants. "You're right, and I'm sorry. I'll behave. Even if she is all anyone is talking about today."

"Oh my God! I am obsessed with your nanny!" My cousin, Keegan, one of my uncle Oliver's twin girls who is also one of Katy's closest friends, screeches at me as she flies over to us, wrapping a towel tighter around her chest, her wet, red hair spraying everywhere.

Katy gives me a see what I mean look.

"Straight facts," Keegan continues. "When I grow up, I want to be her. The hair, the nose ring, the badassery, the art, the living abroad—all of it. I'm legit jealous of Rory that she gets to hang out with her so much."

"Same!" Katy exclaims. "Totally the same! She's everything, right? And so nice!" She clutches Keegan's arm as if she just had a brilliant idea. "Oh, we should invite her out for girls' night next weekend."

"I'm already fifty shades ahead of you. I invited her, and she said she was in." Keegan turns to me, giving me a dubious expression. "She also said you were a good boss and nice. So I guess I'm wondering if you've drugged her or if you're blackmailing her into speaking kindly about you when we all know the truth."

I kiss Willow's cheek because it's sweet and soft, and she smells like innocence and perfection. So unlike everything and everyone else around me.

"Yes," I deadpan, rolling my eyes as sarcasm drips from my tongue. "Obviously, I both drugged and blackmailed Rory's nanny to say nice things about me."

"More like she's too sweet to speak badly about him to his family," Stone claims as he joins us, sipping his margarita, and I need another drink. Or three if I'm going to make it through the rest of this party where everyone is obsessed with my nanny. "Or maybe things have progressed with the two of you, but you're keeping it to yourself."

"Fuck off, Stone. Don't start with that crap."

"I will take my baby back if you keep using words like fuck around her."

I smirk at Katy. "You mean the way you just did?"

Katy glares death threats at me.

"S'up, brother," Mason, who is Asher from Central Square's son and also an NFL quarterback for the Boston Rebels, comes over, not wearing a shirt because he likes to show off his man muscles whenever he can. He's got a home game tomorrow and is not drinking or eating junk like everyone else is, but I'm glad he stopped by. Until he says, "I just met your nanny. She's something else, isn't she?" He steals Willow from me, much to my dismay, and blows raspberries on her neck that make her wiggle and do her new baby smile.

Katy's eyebrows dance.

For fuck's sake.

"Why don't you start a fan club?" I grumble. "You, Keegan, and Katy can open the Boston chapter."

Mason laughs.

"What's funny?" Vander questions, joining us as he sips his tequila neat.

"Owen is being a defensive vagina about his new nanny," Stone declares.

"I am not."

"You can play it," he continues. "But you have the same grumpy, dismayed look you had on your face when Vander and I were joking about it at hockey."

"It's true," Vander agrees, tossing his tattooed arm over my shoulder. I shove him off, and he grins knowingly at me. "You should have seen him," he tells Katy, Keegan, and Mason. "I thought he was going to take his skates and slice our carotids over her."

"What is wrong with you men?!" Katy clips incredulously. "There are tiny ears present. Willow doesn't need to hear about your violence."

Stone and I give Katy a hard look, and then he pushes past her baby ears insanity as a slow, sly smile unravels across Mason's face. It's giving me the sudden urge to hurt him.

"So we shouldn't hit on her then?" he questions, and yep, he's asking to die.

"No," I answer evenly. "You shouldn't. Because Rory loves her, and I'll be forced to kill you if you ruin that for her."

"Oh. Right." Stone laughs. " That's why we can't hit on her."

"Like you're hitting on anyone? You're still a love-sick puppy all over a woman you spent a week with two years ago."

He squints at me. "That was a low blow even for you, asshole. Clearly, we've hit a nerve if you're taking cheap shots."

"Enough already," I bark and snatch his drink from him to finish it off before I shove the empty glass back at him.

He finds far too much amusement in this. So do Mason and Vander.

"I'm just saying there's something more than her simply being your nanny. At least that's how it appears. Or more like that's what I'm hoping is the case." Vander's expression grows serious as he rolls his tongue ring across his bottom lip and takes in my nanny, who is wet and wearing a retro bikini that goes up to her mid-stomach, and the top pushes her bouncy tits up to perfection.

"I happen to agree with him," Stone chimes in. "You haven't shown interest in anyone in far too long, and you clearly have an interest in her."

"Both of you let it go." One afternoon. I had hoped I could escape this for one afternoon. There is nowhere safe here. My grandmother asked me a thousand questions about her. My mother was practically waxing poetic about her. I thought maybe Katy would be safe, but nope. Maybe I should go find Bennett or my uncles and talk about sports or cool surgeries.

Keegan holds up her hand in surrender. "Fine. All teasing aside, it's okay to like her."

"Keegan," I groan. "For the love of all things holy, stop!"

"Just hear me out. All we're saying is, we think it'd be good for you to finally find someone and rejoin the human race. Maybe you'll smile more. Be happy. Less… grumpy."

My eyes momentarily close. They don't get it. None of them do.

"When was the last time you dated anyone?" Mason questions. "You clearly have a thing for her. Why is that so bad?"

"Let's, for argument's sake, say I do the stupid thing and sleep with my much younger, best friend's little sister. There's still the main issue of her being Rory's nanny. A nanny she likes a lot. A nanny she feels comfortable and safe with. A nanny she does not want to lose ," I emphasize, trying to strike my point home as I meet each of their gazes in turn. "I get that she's the first female other than my family to be around me since Angelica, but that doesn't make her right for me. Yes, she's beautiful, and I'm not blind to how sweet she is, but so what? It doesn't matter. She's a no-go. And that's final."

They have no rebuttal for that. Thank the Lord. Hopefully, I can now salvage some piece of this party without it all being about Estlin. I have a twenty-four-hour shift starting Monday morning. It's the first one since I hired her. This is what I need her for, and they know it.

She's the shiny new toy for my cousins and friends. And now Hayes Monroe, who is Zax's son is in the pool talking to her. Has no one ever seen a woman outside of this group before?

I get it. There's something about her that draws you in .

But does she have to be everywhere all the time and be everyone's obsession?

I snatch Willow out of Mason's arms, ignoring his cries of protest.

"Fine," Keegan relents. "We'll back off about her. You're probably right about Estlin not being a good idea for you. But one of these days, maybe you'll try finding someone again."

My brows furrow in annoyance. I didn't sign up for a therapy session. "I'm taking my goddaughter out of the sun," I announce and walk away with Willow.

"We just want to see you happy, brother," Mason calls out to me, and I don't bother acknowledging him. I need a break from this crap. I was happy once with someone, and it was a lie. A sham. A mirage in the desert. I won't put myself or Rory through that again.

It's simply not worth it.

I start to go toward the house when my name is called out. I stop and look over to find my grandmother giving me a smile and a wave. "Owen, darling. Perfect timing. Come sit by me and bring that sweet baby with you." My grandmother, Octavia Abbott-Fritz, the matriarch of the Fritz family and Boston's reigning queen, is sitting on the edge of the patio under an umbrella with a martini in her hand because that's how she rolls, along with my uncle Kaplan, his wife Bianca, and my uncle Oliver.

I walk across the lawn and take the open chaise beside my grandmother.

"Hey. Good to see you. It's been a while," Kaplan teases. He's a pediatric cardiothoracic surgeon, and yesterday we spent the better part of four hours in the OR together.

"Well, it has been a while since I've seen him," my grandmother inserts.

"I'll try to come by more often," I promise, because she's right. It's been a little since I've seen her, and that's not right. " It's a lovely party." I lean back and shift Willow, who seems to be almost asleep, closer to my grandmother.

"Yes. It always is. Do you remember when we used to host them at the Martha's Vineyard home?"

I glance at her, smiling fondly at the memory. "Those were some of my favorites."

She pats my arm and then runs her hand over the back of Willow's head. "Mine too. Shame it's such trouble to get everyone out there now."

"Our family got very big," Oliver muses, looking at something on his phone.

A smile lights up my grandmother's face. "It did. And it continues to grow." She looks at Willow in my arms. "Rory told me she's very happy this year in school."

"She is. Changing schools was the right call for her. It's only been a couple of weeks, but the report I received from her new teacher is very reassuring."

"And things are working out with Eddie—I mean Estlin?" Oliver questions. He's good friends with Wes, Jack and Estlin's father. "She's grown up. I feel like the last time I saw her was years ago."

"Yes. She's lovely." My grandmother's eyes sparkle. "Rory seems to like her."

Inwardly, I sigh. "She does, and yes, so far things are working out well."

"I'm glad you hired someone," Kaplan agrees. "I know you had your reservations, but I think you can see now that it was the right call to make."

"It was. I know it was."

"But," Bianca chimes in with a small laugh on her lips.

"But nothing." Nothing really. "Am I…" I feel so fucking stupid for asking this, but I have to know. "Do I appear unhappy? "

"What?" Kaplan and Oliver spit out, only my grandmother reaches over and places her hand on my arm.

"Yes," she says in no uncertain terms, her green eyes holding mine.

"Why are you asking?" Bianca follows up, but knowing Bianca as I do, she has a reason for that question.

"It's been mentioned by pretty much everyone that I'm grumpy and unhappy." Even Katy hinted at something similar when she told me I should take a vacation.

"Are you?" Bianca throws back at me, and I knew it.

I shrug, not exactly knowing how to answer that. Or, more likely, not willing to face the truth.

"My short answer is, if you don't know, you likely are."

"I have to agree with my wife," Kaplan declares. "So maybe you need to figure out how you change that."

My grandmother's and Bianca's words have been bugging the shit out of me all afternoon and evening. It never occurred to me that everyone saw me as unhappy. Hell, it never occurred to me that I was unhappy. It's just life. I'm busy. I'm cautious. I have a daughter who hasn't had the easiest time of it and needs as much of me as I can give her, and I already spend too much time away from her with my job.

Plus, I don't see how the pinnacle of happiness is found in someone else. I need to find that happiness for myself. But I also appreciate that much of my unhappiness and shit attitude have stemmed from all that Rory and I went through.

I haven't wanted another relationship. The idea of dating random women, of trying to wine and dine and deal with their bullshit isn't appealing. I don't want to wade through gold-diggers. I don't want to manage high-maintenance. And I absolutely do not want a revolving door of women in and out of my daughter's life.

Do I wish I had sex more often? Of course I do.

It's just not worth the price I'd have to pay right now.

That doesn't make me unhappy. It simply means my situation is different and unique and not a bed of fucking roses. I'd love to have more kids. I'd love to give Rory siblings. I'd love to have what Katy has with Bennett. I just don't see that happening right now, and I sure as hell don't see that happening with Estlin, who is in an entirely different stage of life than I am.

It's like I told Jack last week, happily ever after isn't in the cards for me.

"Today was fun," Estlin whispers with an almost dreamy sigh as she stares into the back seat at a sleeping Rory.

"I'm glad you had a good time." I mean that. I'm glad she came because she did look like she had fun.

She twists her head, her body tucked against the seat. "Did you not?"

"I…" I trail off, rubbing a hand along my jaw. What is it that Vander said about me? That I had a grumpy, dismayed expression. Keegan and Mason said I wasn't happy and hinted that I'm not the nicest. Even Stone got in on it. Is that what I've become? A grump? A man so miserable and wound so tight, no one wants to be around me?

Is this who I want to be?

Is this the father I want Rory to see?

I glance in the rearview mirror and quickly take in my girl. She laughed and splashed around all day. She ate garbage and ran around to the point where she wore herself out. And I didn't appreciate it. I didn't get to enjoy it with her because I was sulking like a child. Estlin is the first woman I've slept with in a very long time. That's what makes it so easy to think about her. It's not Estlin per se. It's what she and that night represent. Right?

Yes. Has to be. That makes total sense.

I flash another glance at Rory and then, with my mind made up, ask, "Do you have any plans for next month?"

"Next month?" Estlin parrots questioningly.

"I'd like to take Rory sailing on my uncle's yacht. She's never been, and I think both of us could use the break. We haven't been on a vacation in a very long time." I glance over at her and then immediately back at the road. "Rory's school break is the second week of October. Would you like to join us?"

She sits up a bit. "I don't know. You'd want me to come with you on vacation?" Her face scrunches up as if she's still unsure that's what I asked her.

"If you'd like, but there's certainly no obligation if you'd rather not or it doesn't work well for you." I pull into the driveway and down to the garage on the back side of the house. Estlin hasn't said anything else and is still silent as I turn off the car and close the garage. Unbuckling Rory as gently as I can, I lift her out of her booster seat and straight into my arms. She's dead weight, her body hanging limply, and I carry her inside and straight up the stairs.

Estlin doesn't follow me, and I wonder if she thinks the invitation was too much or somehow inappropriate. I meant for her to come as Rory's nanny, not anything else, but maybe I didn't convey that sentiment well.

Pulling back the blanket, I set Rory down on her bed and slip off her sandals. I cringe that she hasn't brushed her teeth after all the sugar she ate today, but I don't want to wake her when she's this out. Instead, I kiss her forehead, turn on her nightlight, and tuck her in.

"Good night, Moonshine. I love you so much."

My hand runs along her long hair, and then I leave her and shut the door behind me. I blow out a strained breath, look down the hall toward Estlin's room, and then turn away and head back downstairs.

I flip on the light in my man cave and go straight for my bar. A soft tap on the open door calls my attention just as I set a glass down on the bar top.

"May I come in?"

I smirk. "Yes."

Slowly, she enters and hesitantly walks toward me.

"You're very proper around me now."

"You're a gentleman, remember? Gentlemen expect manners. Even surly gentlemen."

I chuckle lightly even as the surly comment zings me. "Wiseass." I point to the stool on the other side of the bar. "Have a seat. Do you want one?"

"Yes. Thank you." She takes a seat, and I pull out another glass and set it down.

"Do you want ice?"

"If it's not too much trouble."

I inwardly sigh and go over to the ice maker and scoop some into both our glasses, only to remember something and turn back to her. "Do you actually know the difference in your bourbons?"

A smile curls up her lips. She got some sun today and now has an adorable smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. "Yes. At least some of them. The father I nannied for in London is Irish and big into his whiskeys and bourbons. His wife, who is French, hates them, so he and I would drink together, and we started exploring different brands and doing taste tests."

"Care to play a game then?"

"Depends. What did you have in mind?"