Noah - 11

My gaze stares off into the vague and dark distance as the vibrant details of the city resting beneath the night's sky become blurred images to me. The peaceful scenery from the car window zooms by like a faint dream, like a colorful picture that I can't quite piece together because of my hazy vision. Normally, my eyes wouldn't even be open to see the darkened urban landscape because of my heavy exhaustion from working such long hours, but for some strange reason, my mind has been awake all day. I can't get these past few days out of my head.

I can't get a read on what's on her mind.

A slow and contemplative exhale parts from my lips as I close my eyes in deep thought. Cassie has kept the atmosphere between us surprisingly professional since I told her that the sex we had that night was a huge mistake. She hasn't shown me any signs of the outcome bothering her, her behavior and interactions with me the same as they were before the regrettable incident happened. In fact, her work performance has actually gone up since we had that fateful conversation. Though, I suppose the good work that she's been doing may have just come along with the routine and experience she's been getting.

Regardless, I can't say that I have any complaints about Cassie aside from the fact that the conclusion of our serious discussion seems to be troubling me more so than her. Something just doesn't seem right about it even if the young woman is smiling at me each time before she leaves for the rest of the night. I can't understand how she isn't bothered by the way things ended, especially when it was her first time experiencing that sort of intimacy with a man. But perhaps the idea of virginity or sex isn't as sacred as it used to be considering that a generational gap still exists between us.

I audibly sigh again while my mood slowly begins to sour. It seems like the more I think and worry about the situation with Cassie, the more I realize how much she's been on my mind lately. After all, I'm the one who put the strict boundaries back in place between us. I should be more than happy with the results of our much needed conversation.

So why the hell am I annoyed with Cassie's behavior?

The incessant thoughts revolving around the strange dynamic between me and Cassie continues to plague my mind until the car eventually arrives back at home. After a long and quiet car ride, I still haven't learned anything about how I should resolve this odd resentment brewing inside me. But I try my best to stow those bitter feelings away as I step out of the car and walk toward the front door. Both Cassie and I decided to keep things professional, so I have to do what's right and pretend like things are fine between us for the sake of that promise and agreement.

Yet as soon as I unlock the door and step through the doorway, I can already tell that something is a little off. There's no tackling greeting waiting for me behind the door and no bright smile to welcome me back home.

"Taylor? Cassie?" I shout while my panicked voice echoes down the empty hallways. My heart starts to anxiously race when the only response that comes back to me is the sound of my own echoing voice. But in the midst of my nervous state, I suddenly hear the sound of a door opening in the distance followed by slow footsteps moving across the floor. It's Cassie.

"Sorry, Mr. Bishop. I was helping Taylor out in the bathroom, so I didn't hear you coming through the front door. I had to help her take another bath because there was dirt all over her," the young woman explains while she gradually hobbles toward me one slow step at a time. Her dark brown eyes wince each time she takes a step forward, her hand placed against the wall to help her balance.

"Why are you limping?" I ask with a furrowed brow. There's no doubt in my mind that her leg wasn't stumbling like this in the morning which means that her injury must have happened during the day. And I can't help the gut feeling which is telling me that Taylor had something to do with it.

"Oh, this?" Cassie stops and looks down at her ankle. "I just sprained my leg a bit, but it doesn't hurt too bad. Taylor and I were just playing outside for a bit when she started running around. She ended up tripping over her own feet, and I happened to get hurt trying to catch her. It's no big deal."

I naturally close my eyes and clench my teeth after hearing Cassie's response. In spite of her attempts to downplay Taylor's misbehaved actions, I simply can't accept the excuse that Cassie is making for her especially since somebody got hurt because of it. Unfortunately, I can tell by the way her wary gaze is looking at me that she really hopes I let the incident go without yelling at Taylor. Seeing the hopeful expression in her brown eyes as she bites down on her lower lip in anticipation of my next move weakens the strong resolve that I have in scolding the troublemaking little girl.

As much as I appreciate Cassie's compassion toward my daughter, she is way too forgiving and lenient on Taylor sometimes. But I can't fault or criticize her kindness too much because I'd end up feeling like a huge hypocrite. That consideration she holds toward Taylor is one of reasons why the seed of attraction spawned within my heart in the first place. It's one of the reasons why I ended up being drawn in by her.

But before I can even apologize for the trouble that Taylor had brought upon Cassie, the little girl peeks her head out from the opened bathroom doorway with an eager smile.

"Daddy! You're home," she says in a overly-happy tone as she bolts out of the bathroom and down the hallway toward me. Her arms are wide-opened for a hug, yet I stop her advance before she can greet me and firmly put my hands on top of her shoulders. The excitement on her face instantly fades when she realizes that I'm not happy with her.

"Taylor, we've had this discussion before. What did I tell you about wildly running around when it can get you seriously hurt? You have to be more careful. Just look at what your actions did to Cassie," I lecture in a stern tone.

The young girl drops her head in shame once she hears the disappointment and disapproval in my voice. It's clear from the sad pout on her lips that she's aware that she's done something wrong. I can hear the sound of a low apology slip out of her childlike voice as she says, "I'm sorry."

"It's really okay, Mr. Bishop. Taylor's already apologized many times to me. She knows that what she did was wrong, and she's really sorry about it. There's no need to blame her anymore," Cassie emphasizes.

The young nanny is doing all that she can to diffuse the tense situation, however, my eyes simply continue to stare down at the saddened Taylor with a heavy heart. I instinctively place my hand on top of the little girl's head and gently ruffle her long hair. The truth is that I'm not even that upset with Taylor or what she did. I'm just upset that Cassie ended up getting hurt by accident, but I definitely don't blame or resent Taylor for it. I just feel extremely sorry that it happened at all -- that there was nothing I could do to prevent her from getting injured.

"Let me send you home, Cassie. It's the least I can do for you since you probably won't want to stay the night," I nonchalantly mention as I lift my gaze back up to her eyes.

I figure that Cassie will immediately refuse me if I offer her a room to stay in after what happened because of those harmless overnight stays. But when I make casual eye contact with her stare, I strangely find signs of hesitation written across her face. It's the first time since she started acting like everything was normal between us that I've caught sight of her uneasy expression again.

"There's really no need for that!" Cassie stiffly laughs and smiles. "Besides, I've already called someone to pick me up. In fact, he should be here any moment now." The doorbell rings at the exact moment of Cassie's completed statement. "Oh, that should be him outside."

Despite my natural desire to help bring Cassie over to the front door so that she doesn't have to hobble all the way over, the sound of the doorbell endlessly ringing again and again makes it an easy choice for me to make. I turn around and head toward the door while the bell continues to sound off. Clearly, her designated driver is demanding for his call to be answered at the door without any consideration for the people inside of the house. I normally wouldn't tolerate this type of obnoxious behavior, but I tell myself to bite my tongue for the sake of Cassie's injury.

Sure, this guy is acting like an absolute asshole for no reason. However, this is the only time I'll ever have to deal with him again. I'll bear this anger just for tonight and avoid making a scene even if he deserves it.

When I finally make it to the door and open it, that's when the final ring tolls. The noise comes to an abrupt stop as I set my eyes on the man who has been steadily pressing the bell buzzer. The mystery man turns his face over to the opened doorway where I'm greeted by the surprising sight of a striking young man who looks to be around the same age as Cassie. He blankly stares at me with his hazel-colored eyes, but I'm too taken off guard by his appearance to properly address him.

It doesn't take being a woman to realize that this guy who's standing in front of me is highly attractive -- maybe even model material.

Even though I know I should stop ogling at him, I can't help but note the certain qualities that add to his appeal. Aside from being notably good-looking, his tall height and his muscular physique are just a few things that I notice about him right away upon a brief glance. I have no doubt that he must be some sort of an athlete judging by the way his biceps and his chest muscles practically bulge out of his shirt. And while I would hate to admit it, I can definitely feel a small seed of envy growing inside my chest over the man's youthful appearance and fit body.

"This is where Cassie works, right?" the young man asks as he finally breaks the seal of silence. He has the same blank expression on his face from when he first looked at me, the uncertainty in his brown-green eyes still unsettled.

"Yes, Cassie works here. She should be coming over to the door right now," I coldly respond. The look on the man's face quickly changes into one filled with joy and relief as soon as he hears my answer.

"Okay, cool! You must be the big boss man then." He widely grins and gives me an overly-friendly pat on the chest as if we were old friends. "It's really nice to meet you, man. I'm Chase, Cassie's-"

"Chase, what the hell are you doing?" Cassie angrily whispers in a voice that's loud enough for me to hear. Her brown eyes are enlarged with pure shock while her mouth is slightly agape. She looks absolutely horrified by Chase's display and actions, the humiliation slowly spreading across her face.

"Greeting your boss. Is there something wrong with that?" he replies with a lighthearted scoff as he looks to me for some back up on his statement. He playfully elbows me in the arm in that same friendly manner as before until his attention is suddenly drawn away by something else.

"And who is this beautiful young lady?" Chase questions as he lowers his gaze toward his new person of interest.

As soon as I feel a small presence grab at my dress pants and shift behind me, I know who it is that the young man is referring to. I turn around and see Taylor hiding behind my back, her curious gaze taking a long peek at the unfamiliar man standing by the doorway. Her shyness and caution around strangers is nothing new or unusual considering her strict upbringing, but what I find strange about her behavior in this particular instance is the timid smile that she has on her lips as she looks up at Chase. It's almost as if she were fascinated by him -- captivated, even.

"Hi, I'm Taylor," the girl softly mumbles as she hides her face behind my leg. She speaks in a voice that's so low that I'm not even sure if Chase could understand what she had said. Regardless, the man bends down to meet her at eye level which takes everybody, including Cassie, by surprise.

"Well, Taylor, I happen to have something for you," Chase mischievously smiles. His hands move behind his back for a brief second before he brings them right in front of Taylor's face. He intentionally shows her the empty palms of his hands more than once, and before I can figure out what he's trying to accomplish, he unexpectedly pulls a flower out of thin air from behind her ear. He holds the flower in front of her face with a proud smirk on his lips.

But I raise my brow in reaction to his antics. I have no words for Chase's little magic trick. None at all.

On the other hand, the sheer awe and delight on Taylor's face as she takes the item out of his hands is a pure expression that I haven't seen her make in a very long time since Elizabeth's passing. Her large brown eyes are completely lit up with wonder, the happy grin on her face almost permanently attached to her mouth. She's completely taken in by the magical moment, and her stare of admiration is locked onto the warm eyes of the man kneeling down in front of her. Her starry-eyed gaze doesn't look away from him for even a second as she pulls the flower close to her heart.

That clear love struck expression on Taylor's face is one that I've never seen from her before. And I'm not sure if I should be concerned about it considering who the culprit is behind her newly-discovered affection. All I know is that every fiber of my existence and being doesn't like it. I definitely don't approve of this at all.

Cassie sighs and covers her face with her palm. "Please, just bring me home before you do or say something else to embarrass me, Chase," the young woman pleads in a small voice.

"What? How am I embarrassing you? The kids love the magic tricks. Chicks seriously dig it too," Chase cheekily grins with a wink. His carefree response forces daggers to fly straight out from Cassie's unyielding stare. She doesn't find his comments funny in any way, shape, or form, and the hateful glare that she's giving him is worse than any of the ones she's looked at me with when we first met.

This guy must be a real piece of work to be able to get Cassie this mad. But their strange dynamic only makes me wonder and question who he exactly is to her.

"All right, all right. I got it," the charming stud laughs as he gets up from the floor with a satisfied smile. He walks away from the door and off into the distance toward his car before Cassie can get another word in to scold him with.

The young woman watches Chase head off to his car with a huge sigh of relief as if she doesn't trust him. Yet she turns her attention back to me and Taylor when she realizes that he isn't coming back to bother her anymore.

"Good night, Taylor. Good night, Mr. Bishop," Cassie beams. She waves her goodbyes and then proceeds to slowly hobble across the pavement while Chase's car pulls up to her side to pick her up. One last wave comes out from her hand before she gets into the vehicle which disappears into the night.

Despite the odd turn of events involving Cassie's mysterious companion, I close the front door and try to forget about what happened. There's not much that I can say about my first impressions of Chase except that he's a bit of an odd one. One thing is for sure though: his loose behavior and conduct put me in a bad mood. It's not only the way he acts like there are no personal boundaries between us, but also the way he deliberately toys with Cassie's emotions. I feel a heavy knot in my stomach just imagining the smile on his face as he provokes her.  And it doesn't help that my own daughter is clearly infatuated with him as well.

Ugh. How pathetic do I have to be to feel such overwhelming jealousy over a guy like that?

This is not like me at all.

Unable to withstand the blushing smile spread across the young girl's face, I pick Taylor up into my arms and start to carry her up to her bedroom. A strong feeling of guilt mixed with resentment fills me as I watch her gleefully twirl the flower given to her by Chase within her fingertips. I can't help but feel defeated and bested. None of the gifts and presents that I've ever gotten Taylor has ever brought her as much joy as this single flower does. The main difference is who the person was that gave the gift to her.

"I really like him," Taylor suddenly states with a giggle. She throws her arms around my neck for a hug while she continues to softly laugh at her own private musings.

"What? Like who?" I hesitantly ask even though I'm well aware of the potential answer to her statement.

"Cassie's boyfriend. I really like him."

Hearing Taylor's innocent words cuts a hole right into my heart. Boyfriend. Now it makes sense why and how Cassie's been acting like everything is okay and normal between us. She's managed to find someone else to take her mind away from me, a man who's much more suited for her in terms of age and experience. She's successfully moved on from me.

I should be more than happy for her current circumstances because I was the one who shamelessly took her precious first time away when it meant little-to-nothing to me. It was all me, me who was the one who took away that initial experience of intimacy that she'll always remember for the rest of her life. And when it was all said and done, I was the one who told her how insignificant that moment was to me. I was the villain who told her that it was just meaningless sex.

I'm clearly the bad guy in this story -- so why does my chest slightly ache at the thought of her being in the arms of another man? Why do I feel such a strong resistance and repulsion to the idea of it? It would be selfish to say that I'm not glad to see her proudly move on from our passionate mistake, but it would also be a lie if I said I was genuinely happy about it when I'm not. The rushing wave of emotions in my heart is vehemently rejecting the truth that's being presented in front of me.

But I know I have to put these ugly thoughts and feelings aside in spite of their powerful influence over me. I can't allow my bitterness to ruin the professional atmosphere between us. I just have to keep my distance from Cassie and treat her as coldly as I did in the past because she isn't special. She's only a nanny to me, a nanny that I made the grave mistake of sleeping with once.