I didn’t feel right about what had happened with Madeline. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t feel right about it, but I didn’t. I mean, it made sense: Gracie was back to take care of Clara and a nanny was no longer needed. Gracie said she wanted us to be a family. She wanted to take care of Clara the way she knew she could, now that she was doing better. She said the concentrated dose of chemotherapy she had been given from her doctor was working well, and that her doctor felt comfortable transferring her to another doctor’s care.

She’d transferred her fucking doctor to come back here.

I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it: Gracie leaving, having a daughter, Gracie having cancer. It all seemed a bit too much. It’s not that I didn’t believe her, I just–

I’m really not sure. Something just didn’t sit right. In the type of work I do, my gut is the thing I rely on the most. I’ve always believed that the body picks up on signals our brains might not process, and my gut has never steered me wrong: not once. It hummed with delight when Madeline showed up, and I never once had a reason to mistrust her with Clara. It buzzed with need at the last business I acquired before my life-changing vacation, and I nailed not only the business, but also a new client.

But there was something in Gracie’s story that didn’t sit right, and I had to pay attention to that.

“When do you go see your doctor next?” I asked lowly.

Gracie was wiping the sweat from her hairless brow before her eyes lightly fluttered up to mine.

“Oh, I have to make the appointment first. My prior doctor’s letting me do some research, and all I gotta do is call to have my medical documents faxed over.”

“You don’t have a doctor here yet?” I asked.

“Oh, I’ll have one before the end of the day. Don’t worry,” she smiled at me.

I don’t know. She seemed… too cool for someone who had just gone through a scare like she did.

“How’s your incision healing?”

“Hmm?” she hummed.

“From the C-section: where they removed your uterus. How is it healing?”

She eyed me carefully before she slowly stood up, and I watched as her hands slowly pulled the loose waistband of her pants down to reveal the glaring red and purple scar just above her pubic line.

“Proof enough?” she deadpanned.

She was always so perceptive of me. She knew when I was anxious or upset, and she knew when my gut was telling me something wasn’t right. On more than one occasion she would complete my sentences or verbally tell me exactly what I was thinking, and before all this happened I would have told you it was because we were so in-sync. I would’ve said it was because we loved each other and that she was the woman made specifically for a man like me.

But now…

“I’m concerned about you not having a doctor,” I said lowly.

“I’ll get it done,” Gracie breathed.

Clara was sitting in a swing Madeline had purchased a few days ago, and when my eyes fluttered over to where she was swinging I felt a pang of hurt. Madeline had imprinted herself completely onto my daughter, and I worried about what ripping her away would do. It’s why I interjected that Madeline still come Tuesdays and Thursdays.

She’d already been abandoned by one woman, and I didn’t need her being abandoned by another.

“I need to call the nanny agency,” I murmured.

“I don’t know why you insisted on keeping her around,” Gracie said.

“Well, she’s good for Clara.”

“So is her mother,” Gracie bit.

“I figured having her here a couple of days a week would let us go have some time alone together, too.”

I watched Gracie’s reaction carefully to what I had said. She knew she was underneath my microscope and I could tell by the way her shoulders were pulled taut that there was something she was hiding. Her eyes twinkled and her lips smiled, but her body was nervous. Every once in a while her fingers would twitch, and she could blame it on the chemo all she wanted.

I knew her nervous ticks when I saw them.

“Why don’t you trust me?” Gracie asked.

“Because the last time I did, you took a daughter I didn’t know about and left.”

“I told you I was sorry,” she murmured.

“Sorry doesn’t get me three months back.”

“Look. What’s happening isn’t ideal; I get that. But, I want for us to be a family. I mean it when I say that.”

“But you didn’t want to be a family before?”

“Before what?” she asked.

“Before Clara?”

“What?” she breathed.

“Clara doesn’t make us a family. We had each other before all this started.”

It was true. A child doesn’t make a family. Love, respect, and trust is what bonded people together, and through that bond, a family is created. If anything, not having parents who gave a shit about anything other than education and money taught me that. It was hard for someone of my prominence and wealth to find people who I could truly consider family. Everyone always wanted something from me: a donation, a gift, a loan paid off or a new outfit. Hell, I showered random women with gifts just so they’d part their legs for me!

Men like me don’t find family easily.

“I don’t trust you because when things got tough or unpredictable, you walked away. You walked away without letting me know about one of the best things that have ever happened to me, and I’m not sure I forgive you for that yet. Hell, I’m not sure if I ever will!”

I knew I was raising my voice, but I couldn’t help it. I mean, who the hell did she think she was? Here she came, waltzing back in here, firing my nanny, and thinking everything was just going to be hunky dory?

Something wasn’t right, and I wasn’t getting rid of Madeline until I figured out what it was.

“I’m going and calling the nanny agency,” I spat.

“Derrie!” I heard her call after me. But I didn’t stop to turn around. I was required to inform the agency of any changes to the household dynamic that happened to occur, and I think Clara’s mother returning constituted as massive a shift in dynamic as could be. But I also wanted to let them know that there was no need to change her pay rate. I’d still be paying her through the Nanny Agency so they could take whatever fat rate they skimmed off the top, but I would tell them she was only needed on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

I went for my phone and picked it up, before I began searching online for the number. I found it, decided to make the call, and just as someone picked up the phone I turned around and saw Gracie standing there with Clara.

You would think seeing the mother of my child standing there with our offspring would raise something primal up from the depths of my stomach; but instead the only thing I could do was study her body.

That resulted in my gut continuing to hammer my head with anxious thoughts.

“Caretaker, Incorporated, this is Melody speaking, how may I help you?”

“Yes, my name is Mr. Blake and I believe a Miss Madeline Albright is under my employ via your company?”

“Yes, sir: it looks like she is employed as a live-in. Is everything alright?”

“Oh, everything’s just fine,” I smiled. “I just wanted to talk about re-negotiating her contract.”

“Of course! I will shoot you over to the billing department and they can take care of everything.”

“Thank you so much, Melody.”

I walked towards Gracie and nodded in her general direction before I slipped off to my room. That was one thing Gracie never did: she never felt the need to follow me around. In fact, when we were dating it almost drove me mad that she didn’t. She never caught onto my hints about her coming into the shower with me or following me to the car for a surprise. She was completely oblivious to those types of cues and always told me I should be more secure in who I was as a man rather than needing a “sad little puppy slut” to follow me around everywhere.

But when I went to close my bedroom door, I saw her slowly walk by.

“Mr. Blake!” the voice on the phone chimed, “This is the billing department; how can we help?”

I lowered my voice and told them what I wanted done as I clocked the shadow hovering outside my bedroom door. My eyes stayed glued to the unwavering dark shadow lurking underneath the gap between my door and my floor, and something in the back of my mind told me to call my lawyer. Sure, that meant a very long conversation, which meant I probably needed an excuse to get away, but something was wrong with Gracie, and she was holding the only thing in this world I held as dear to me as my company.

Actually, Clara was dearer to me, in fact.

“So, let me reiterate: you only want Miss Madeline Albright to be there Tuesdays and Thursdays, with the possibility of Sundays, but you don’t want to change her pay?”

“Correct,” I murmured.

“And you’re sure?”

“Yes.”

I heard some typing in the background before I heard my phone ding, and the man informed me he had sent a copy of the new agreement to my phone to sign before they called Madeline to inform her of the change in details.

“Thank you so much for your time,” I said before I hung up. I didn’t even give the man a chance to respond. I opened my phone and shot Madeline a text message, hoping to God she wouldn’t delete it out of anger, and I took a deep breath before I ripped my bedroom door open.

And there Gracie stood, leaning with her back against the wall beside Clara’s room.

“Did she take it alright?” she asked.

“Eh, the girl’s strong. She’ll be good. Listen, I’ve still got a shit ton to do at work–”

“Language, Derrie,” Gracie whispered.

“Sorry… I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me today still, and this fun little… break… hampered my ability to get it done. I have to get back to the office, but I’ll come back with dinner. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds fantastic,” Gracie smiled.

“Good.”

I headed for the front door and shoved my phone in my pocket. I grabbed my wallet and my keys before slinging my coat around my shoulders, and just before my hand went to grab the doorknob I felt a pressure on my forearm.

And before I could register what was going on, Gracie whipped me around and planted a sloppy kiss onto my lips.

“We’ll see you when you get home,” Gracie said lowly. I recognized the look in her eye. It was a look that used to bring me to my knees: dark and seductive, with just a hint of wild. Except now, her eyes looked two ticks away from possessed and I was even more nervous about leaving Clara with her.

What if I came back and they were both gone?

I needed to get to my lawyer, talk, and figure out what my options were.

But, until then; I needed to play along to get her to stay.

“I look forward to it,” I grinned.