A mazing the difference a couple of weeks makes .

Since she returned, Paisley has been staying in my room with me, waking up earlier than the kids do on the days they’re here and making sure they don’t see her sleeping with me. When I tell her it’s okay, they’re too young and won’t understand anyway, she insists it’s what’s right .

I love that she wants to do the right thing. I only wish I could go back to a completely normal life as quickly as possible, and having her with me every night and every morning, having the kids run into the room and pile on top of us would be a dream. Miriam used to get up out of bed as soon as they’d come in. At first I wasn’t sure why, but as time goes on, I realize it’s because she didn’t want them to see us together in an intimate way. In retrospect, she was always preparing for the separation .

But I try not to focus on the past or the things Miriam did .

Paisley’s back now, and she not only takes care of the kids, she cooks, she works on her business, she works out, and she basically kicks ass. The girl’s only twenty-two. I shudder to think what kind of world domination she’ll be working when she’s my age .

Today, we’re out of the house all together, because…we need it. The library project is kicking my ass, and we’re getting down to the wire. The blueprints go to the county in two weeks and then comes the waiting game. But for two weeks, I get to stress, yell at my team for not moving fast enough, all while balancing life and a girlfriend. A girlfriend…who knew ?

So, at my insistence, we ride up to Central Park with the kids. It’s a beautiful snowy day, a great day to be a kid. As soon as we hit a slope and clear area, we release the kids from their double stroller and let them wreak havoc on nature. Becca runs one way, and Pierce runs another, but they both shriek and fall over in the snow. I take pics, because even though half my brain is at the office, one day this will be nothing but a memory, and I’m going to wish the twins could be this little again .

“Daddy, look at me!” Becca picks up a giant ball of snow too big for her tiny hands and throws it at Paisley. It falls about three feet short, but she’s proud of herself and I am, too .

I pump my fist in the air, run up to her and scoop her in my arms. “Aw, you almost got her. You almost got the Paisley Monster .”

“Ya,” Becca laughs. “The Paisley Monster .”

I help her pack a nice wad of snow, show her how to aim at our smirky-smiling target, then launch the precipitation missile at Paisley. Even though the snowball is clearly headed wide right, Paisley feigns disorientation, runs in the direction of the snowball and takes the hit .

Becca laughs that giggly laugh I love .

“Oh! She’s down!” I cry out. “Repeat, the Paisley Monster is down!” Then, I wink at my gorgeous woman for taking the fall for the benefit of my daughter .

Clad in a purple parka, Paisley gets up and brushes snow off her jacket. “You got me, Becca. You got the Paisley Monster .”

“Yay!” Becca cheers for herself .

Paisley looks around. “Where’s Price ?”

“He’s over there, making a snow ferret,” I say, pointing to my son laying in two feet of snow .

“A snow ferret ?”

“Yeah, he’s moving one arm and one leg while sliding along the ground. See him?” Scooping Becca up into my arms, I stomp over the snow to where Price lies and take pics of him creating snake-like pathways in the fluffy white stuff .

Paisley sees Price and lets out a great belly laugh while holding her stomach. I love seeing her laughing so hard, those crinkle lines around her eyes that disappear when she smiles. I could easily envision her in a spring or summertime dress, flouncing around in the sun while I take pics of her, too .

I think of the sketch I keep in my drawer at the office. Need to add summery touches, something to reflect the sun …

“Should we get a snack?” Paisley asks after we’ve played in the snow for a good hour. “We could grab something nearby then they’ll be completely tuckered out and ready for a nap afterwards .”

“Sounds good to me .”

“How long can you stay?” Paisley asks, linking her arm through mine as we set off pushing the stroller through the park .

For a moment, I’ve forgotten her question. I’ve pulled out of myself and can’t help but see ourselves as an outsider would—a great-looking, happy couple with two kids who are equally happy, all of us spending time together the way a family would. How did this happen ?

I don’t know if to bask in how awesome that is or run away hard and fast .

Should I be thinking the f-word so easily like that? It’s one thing to hang out with Paisley and the kids so I can spend time with them as a respite from work, but it’s another when I start fantasizing that we’re a family. I just lost my own family, and here I am contemplating starting another ?

“Logan?” It’s Paisley, staring at me. Apparently, I’ve slowed down walking and she’s been talking to me about the new routine she’s implemented for the kids’ daily schedule. She’s asking my thoughts on the matter .

I have no thoughts. Because I was too busy imagining her as my wife and the stepmother of my kids, all of us together and content. Goosebumps run up my arms. Wife and stepmother? Where did that come from? I need Paisley, for the kids, for myself, and because I want to give her a good life away from that shoddy apartment. Saying I needed her was hard enough to admit, but could there really be a future for us beyond the average shelf-life of most relationships ?

We enter a bakery where the warm air and smells bring instant smiles to everyone’s faces. Becca points to a pink cupcake with sprinkles, and Price points to a bagel that’s bigger than his head. We order some drinks to go along while I find a seat. Reserving four chairs, I sit and check my messages while Paisley pays for the snacks. Across the table at another, nearby table, a couple of women give me dirty looks .

Let me guess. They read the latest interview with Miriam where she claims I’m a deadbeat father. I glance away from the ladies and repress the urge to give them the middle finger, because after all, here I am with my kids and it’s not for show either. I’m with them because I want to be .

When Miriam became pregnant with twins, we kept hearing people say, “Oh, poor you. Wait ‘til you see what you’re getting.” Like it was a bad thing. Like they’d be too much work .

Hell, yeah, they’re twice the work. Mostly for Paisley, I’ll admit. But they’re also twice the love. When Paisley pulls up with the kids in the stroller and begins doling out snacks and drinks, I get a message saying I have to return to the office. It’s urgent. One of the buildings isn’t ready for approval, and the engineer involved with it just quit .

“Shit, I have to go. I’ll get a car to take you home so you don’t have to deal with the trains by yourself .”

“You have to?” Paisley’s eyes flash across the room. “Because those two wenches over there apparently know which side they’re on in your divorce, and newsflash…it’s not yours. I would love for you to prove them wrong .”

“I know. I was thinking the same thing. But I have to go.” I kiss the Things and pause right over Paisley. I would kiss her, too, but there’s people watching. “You’ll get yours later,” I say, as she watches me with a combination of hesitation and hurt .

“Okay.” Not a flirty look to give me something to look forward to .

Did she really think I’d kiss her on the lips in public? I haven’t gone there yet and can’t, as long as the divorce is still pending. I can see our photo in the tabloids now .

Our lawyers are gearing up for a big fight, and the last thing I need is photographic evidence of me involved with the nanny, for fuck’s sake. Miriam might’ve done it, but her current beau isn’t someone who works for her, as in my case .

I spin out of the bakery, call a car to come pick up Paisley and the kids in fifteen minutes, then catch a ride-share downtown. Doubt begins to consume me. It’s been happening a lot. I’ll be having a great time with Paisley and the kids then something will creep in and mess it all up. Right now, it’s the nagging feeling that I’m not good enough for her. I’ll always be running off to work, leaving her behind in order to put out fires at work, a lot like a doctor who’s always on call .

That’s a fucking sad existence. But I have to do it. L.R. Group depends on me, and nobody can come up with the designs I do. I may be a billionaire businessman, but I’m an artist at heart, so I’ll always be stuck at work. Can’t just spend time with family while letting my employees run things. They don’t have the artistic vision I do, they simply don’t care about it the same way that I care .

That’s not me patting myself on the back, that’s just truth .

Paisley’s eyes, as I left her back at the bakery, haunt me in the car ride back .

They reflected hurt. I didn’t treat her with the respect she wanted and deserved after I said I would. At some point, she’s going to get tired of me treating her like the nanny again. If I decide and accept that she’s my girlfriend, then I’m going to have to stop employing her. She can’t be both. But I’m not sure I can move in that direction .

As much as I want to, something is stopping me. Warning flags, mistrust, all the things one would expect to feel after getting dicked over by my ex. But I’m not Miriam, Paisley said to me once. So true. But she could be. I already dealt with one woman who married me for money. Once upon a time, Miriam also put on an enthusiastic face when dealing with my problems. She pretended to be in love with me, and who’s to say that Paisley couldn’t pretend to be in love with me and my kids, too .

Then, when the honeymoon wears off, they take you to the cleaners .

Will Paisley turn out to be the same way ?

I love her, but do I trust her after all that’s happened to me ?

I love spending time with her, and I’m glad she came back to work, but I’m beginning to feel like letting her into my bedroom a mistake. Maybe I should’ve fired Caitlyn, then hired someone entirely new instead of Paisley. The kids love her, yeah, but I might’ve used that as an excuse to get her to come back. I simply couldn’t stand the thought that she’d left me. I wanted her back to make my life whole again .

You’re a control freak, Logan. You just wanted to have your cake and to eat it, too .

Not going to deny that. I’ve always wanted my cake .

But now I’ve brought the daughter of my ex’s lawyer back into the house, in a more intimate role than ever before when the final hearing is only two weeks away. At the same time the project is due. As a perfect storm begins to brew, and I’ve put Paisley Carrington smack in the middle of it .

Fuck.