Daddy's Contract : A Single Dad and Nanny Romance Read online

  It's obvious from the teary expression in the young child's eyes and the level of tension in her rigid movements that she's definitely afraid of getting in trouble which leaves me no choice but to help her. There's no way I can realistically yell at a little girl when she's trying her hardest to fix her mistake. However, the young brown-haired girl freezes up and drops the book in her hands when she notices me coming toward her.

  A bright shade of red spreads across her cheeks. "I'm really sorry…I didn't mean to knock everything down. I was just trying to get one of the books on top shelf and-" The girl is stuttering so much that she can hardly get a clear word out of her mouth.

  Her childlike innocence is absolutely adorable.

  "It's okay!" I interrupt her with a huge smile of reassurance. "I was getting bored of just sitting around at my desk anyway. Cleaning up this mess will give me something new to do, so don't worry about it so much, okay?"

  I continue to smile at her while I bend down near the pile of books in order to meet her lowered gaze. Yet despite my best efforts to console her and sweep that troubled expression away from her face, the girl still seems rather unconvinced by my words. I can see it in the way she firmly stares at the clutter on the floor as though a heavy burden is hanging over her shoulders, a burden that transcends the one sitting in front of her. But the more I look at her sullen appearance, the more I realize how strangely mature and responsible she appears to be for a child her age.

  Honestly, it's a bit unsettling to see a kid put so much pressure on herself when the accident isn't that big of a deal in the first place. It almost doesn't seem natural how accountable she feels for it. Not many adults even have this strong of a sense of responsibility. She shouldn't look this down.

  "Say, how about we clean this up together then? I could use the extra help and the company to finish this faster," I suggest in a welcoming tone of voice. My offer appears to strike a chord with her as she slowly nods her head in response. She still has her head pointed down toward the ground at the books, but I'm pretty sure that I caught a brief sigh of relief from her lips. She looks much more relaxed now that she realizes that I'm not going to scold her or get upset with her.

  Heh. I guess in the end, she's still just a kid even if she doesn't really act like one.

  "My name is Cassie. What's yours?" I say.

  The question causes the girl to lift her head up toward me and answer in a small voice, "Taylor." Her timid stare doesn't hesitate to meet mine and I catch sight of her large honey-colored eyes for the first time. How unusual. Her appearance is surprisingly bright and youthful when she's not sulking with her head down. This is the young and carefree face that she's meant to have.

  I clap my hands together and smile. "All right, Taylor! Let's get started, shall we? We're going to have to set all of these books aside for now, even the ones you put back on the shelves. All of these books that fell have a specific spot they're supposed to be in, so we'll work on that after we stack them up."

  Taylor enthusiastically nods her head in recognition of my directions and begins picking up the fallen texts off the floor. She diligently grabs the books one by one and sets them flat on the ground. I'm amazed by the pace in which she takes them into her hands and puts them down. It almost looks like a fun game to her.

  "Are your parents here with you, Taylor?" I naturally ask. My eyes look around the area for any sign of an adult who might be looking after Taylor, but there's no one else in the vicinity but us. The lack of adult supervision around her makes me furrow my brow. Surely her parents would want to make sure she's fine after hearing that incredibly loud commotion.

  However, the young brown-haired girl pauses her meticulous actions upon hearing my question. A glint of pain and sorrow flickers across her eyes as she shakes her head. "My daddy's working right now, so he left me with his girlfriend. But I don't really like her, and I don't like being around her. That's why I'm at the library by myself."

  The straightforward reply brings a halt to my book gathering. I'm so shocked by the honesty in her answer that I'm unable to come up with an immediate follow up response to her statement. I can't tell if her frank manner of speaking makes her seem more mature or more childish.

  "Well, don't you think she'd be worried that you're missing? I mean-"

  "No," the girl swiftly replies with a firm and confident shake of her head. "She probably doesn't even know that I'm gone. She doesn't care about me. She never has. She's not my real mommy."

  Taylor bites down on her lip with a bit unease before resuming her systematic book stacking. But even though she pretends to act like she's not bothered by the introduction of her father's new lover into her life, I can practically hear the heartbreak in her voice as she utters the word mommy. Clearly, something must have happened to her real mother for that sort of pained expression to be showing in her eyes. Not to mention, that deeply furrowed crease between her brow isn't something a person would normally find on a young child's face.

  I can't begin to imagine how much internal conflict she's actually struggling with by herself. She must feel so lonely.

  An unwanted feeling of pity starts to stir in my chest when Taylor suddenly stops moving to look up at me. I notice her innocent gaze watching me from the corner of my eye and turn my attention toward her to see what's troubling her. There's a strong yet wavering look of desire gleaming from her brown stare, an eager expression which extends beyond her eyes and spreads across her entire face.

  "I promise I won't cause you any trouble, Cassie, so can I stay here? I really don't want to be with her all day, and my dad said he'll come pick me up later anyway," Taylor persuades in a shaky voice.

  My gut reaction to her request is to immediately shout "of course not!" at her. As much as she might hate her father's latest girlfriend, there's no way that the woman can be terrible enough to not realize that the young girl has gone missing. It has to be childish exaggeration, and there's no way that I'm voluntarily getting myself involved in their personal drama. I have a duty to uphold as an adult and that means I have to do the right thing.

  "I'm sorry, Taylor-"

  "Please?" the young child softly pleads. Her large brown eyes twinkle and glow with a strong sense of desperation. She's obviously anxious to change my mind. The book that she's clutching in her tiny hands is being held so tightly that I can see the item slightly shaking within her grasp.

  Crap… What am I supposed to do?

  I hang my head up in hesitation. The emotional waves in my heart are telling me to give her this safe space at the library while the reasonable voice in my mind is telling me to do otherwise. I know there's no good in helping Taylor delay her meeting with her potential stepmother, but the pull of my emotions is rapidly winning out over the cries of my rational thoughts. It seems like this soft spot that I have for kids really isn't doing me any favors. How can I say no to her when she's basically begging me with those puppy-dog eyes not to?

  A long and heavy sigh escapes me as I close my eyes. I'm probably going to regret this later if my boss finds out, but what the hell.

  "Fine, okay. You can stay, but only until your dad's girlfriend shows up to pick you up. Fair?" I negotiate with a fold of my arms.

  Taylor's whole face lights up as she keenly nods her head up and down. A childlike essence and aura radiates from her beaming smile which makes an appearance on her lips. The gentle expression lingers on her face as she goes back to her monotonous routine of picking up books and stacking them up on top of one another. Watching her jump back to work so quickly motivates me to follow her example.

  But for some strange reason in spite of the menial task that I'm working on, my head is constantly buzzing while I clean up the mess on the floor. Doubts gradually cloud and fill my mind, an unease flowing through every inch of my body. I'm sure Taylor was just exaggerating from the beginning. That's what kids do -- it's all in their head. After all, there's no possible way that this woman who's supposed to be watching over Taylor wouldn't
be looking for her -- right?

  ***

  "Have a good night!"

  "Thanks for coming."

  "Get home safe."

  A stiff and forced smile sticks to my lips as I watch the patrons slowly leave out the door one by one. The bodies that once filled the numerous seats along the wooden tables empty out, yet the atmosphere in the library remains unchanged. It's still as quiet as ever inside, eerily quiet in fact. Unfortunately, the dead sound of silence is more of a curse than it is a blessing. It's only when I'm surrounded by the sound of nothingness that my thoughts start to run wild.

  God. This is seriously driving me nuts.

  I push the computer keyboard away from my hands out of frustration and lean back in my chair in absolute defeat. It's no use. I can't focus on anything at all. Not when there are more pressing matters to attend to like the one that's current sitting in front of me.

  My eyes stealthily steal a glance at the brown-haired girl who is still seated at the long table and reading a book by herself. She's hardly moved from her chair since she sat down a few hours ago, only getting up once or twice to head over to the restroom. Her eyes have remained so concentrated on the story written in front of her that she hasn't even noticed that the sun has set for a while now. Though even if she did manage to notice, I doubt Taylor would make a change in whatever she's doing. She looks way too settled in to her story to want to do anything else.

  A troubled groan falls from my lips while I take note of the time displayed on my computer screen for what feels like the fifth time. It's 8:26PM, and the woman who's supposed to be watching over Taylor still hasn't shown up yet. I thought my faith in my own beliefs would be unshakeable, but I have to admit that my hopes in her arrival began to dwindle after each subsequent hour flew by without contact or notice. With no communication for six hours, I'm starting to believe that Taylor was right about her.

  But now all I have to ask is, where the hell is her father?

  My gaze stays fixated on Taylor's seemingly calm face. I feel like I'm at my wits end when it comes to her odd situation, and I don't know what I should do to help her. But right as I'm about to get up from my desk and talk to her about her options, the doors fling wide open and the strong smell of perfume permeates the entire room. Naturally, everyone including me turns their attention toward the entrance to see who it is that's making such a ruckus.

  Standing by the doors is a tall and slender blonde with sunglasses on her face and a fur stole wrapped around her arms. Two men in black suits stand and wait behind her, their hands filled to the brim with shopping bags from a bunch of expensive name brands -- some of which I've never even heard of. And in spite of her extravagant and excessive entrance into the library, the woman says nothing to the crowd of people that's clearly watching her in disbelief. It's almost like she expects the attention, like she's used to having strangers gawk at her on a daily basis.

  Yeesh. Talk about high maintenance.

  I roll my eyes and let out a tired sigh. While I absolutely hate the idea of offering my assistance to someone like her, especially when she's causing a huge and unnecessary scene, it's in my job description to do so.

  "Excuse me, can I help you-"

  Before I can get my whole sentence in, the blond-haired woman storms right past me as though I didn't exist before her very eyes. The nauseating fragrance of her perfume leaves a trail of its scent behind her and forces a gagging cough out of me. But it's not the fact that she completely ignores my presence or that she smells disgustingly like sweet vanilla that grabs my attention, it's the fact that she calls out to the girl whom I've been watching over for these past few hours with no hesitation.

  "Taylor!" the stylish woman cries out as she rushes over to the young girl sitting alone at the table. "Sweetheart, I've been looking everywhere for you. Why did you run away? You had me worried sick."

  Wait, what?

  My jaw slightly drops from the sight of the unlikely pairing. This is the woman that Taylor's father is supposed to be dating? This woman who looks like she just walked off a fashion runway? Even when the scene is clear as day, I don't want to believe it. I don't want to believe that she's the woman who's supposedly looking after Taylor while her father is working overtime.

  But with the details gradually unfolding in front of me, I now understand why the poor girl didn't want to stick around her father's girlfriend in the first place. The woman definitely seems like she would be a person who's extremely tiring to spend any time with. Personal bodyguards? The suffocating stench of too much perfume? A constant spotlight shining over your head? I've only stood next to her for about five seconds and I already feel like I've had enough of her for the rest of my life. Spending an entire day with her is something I don't want to think about.

  Regrettably, the same can't be said for Taylor who has no choice but to be around this woman. My heart aches looking at the devastated expression on the child's face as the blonde stares down on her from behind her sunglasses. As much as I don't want to hand the girl over to such a shady-looking character like her, a deal is a deal. Even if the deal is six hours long overdue.

  However, just as I'm about to take a walk back to my desk seat, I hear the woman audibly scoff from Taylor's lack of a response to her line of questioning. "Come on, let's get out of here. I've already wasted enough time looking for you. I can't believe I'm going to miss this dinner appointment at 9 o'clock now because of your childish behavior."

  I'm stunned. The spite and irritation in her tone of voice couldn't be more obvious, and hearing her blame Taylor for no good reason makes my stomach churn in absolute disgust. I turn around and find the woman forcibly grabbing Taylor by the wrist and attempting to pull her out of her seat. However, the child doesn't give in to her demanding actions so easily. There's a firm look of resistance in her brown eyes as she pulls back against the woman's grasp and stands her ground.

  Unfortunately, there's a limit to how much strength a little girl has compared to a grown and adult woman, so it's no surprise that Taylor eventually loses the tugging war. The young girl's feet are pulled across the floor, her arm jerked along by the blonde's firm hand. I hesitate to step in and say something because I know it's not my place to, but in the midst of Taylor's losing struggle, she looks directly into my eyes with a cry for help. Her weak brown gaze is filled with desperation, her haunting stare overflowing with pain.

  This isn't right. I have to do something.

  Not only is this woman treating Taylor like she's some sort of a nuisance and thorn in her side, she has the nerve to act like she actually cares about her. Anyone with a pair of eyes can see that there's no bond or relationship between the two of them. And even though I know it's foolish to interfere with matters that aren't related to me, my hand still instinctively shoots out to grab Taylor's free wrist. The unexpected nature of my action forces both the woman and the child to pause in their tracks.

  "What do you think you're doing?" the flashy woman grimly asks. Her eyes are covered by her unneeded pair of sunglasses, but I can definitely feel the hatred spewing from behind her veiled glare.

  "I'm sorry, Miss, but unless you're this child's official and legal guardian, I can't let you take her with you," I confidently speak while staring into the dark-tinted circles which are concealing the true expression in her eyes.

  An uneasy laugh falls from her lips when she hears my response. "Excuse me?" the blonde scoffs with an attitude. She suddenly releases her grip around Taylor's wrist and takes off her sunglasses for the first time. An icy blue glare instantly greets me as soon as the shades are removed from her face.

  "Do you even know who I am?" she bluntly asks.

  I'm taken aback by her strange question. Is she someone I should know?

  I bite my lip and quietly observe her face to find an answer. Not only is the woman standing before me tall and slim like a model, but she's also a conventional beauty with her natural blonde hair, her dazzling blue eyes, and her sun-kissed complexion.
And to top it all off, the realization of her perfectly-done makeup adds an extra layer of intimidation to her already daunting appearance. Yet the more I admire her attractive facial features and qualities, the more I realize that I honestly have no idea who she is.

  It's almost like the woman can sense my lack of recognition because she goes on to ask Taylor for some backup on the matter. "Taylor, tell this woman that you're leaving with me. Tell her who I am," she demands.

  But the little girl simply says nothing at all. She just keeps her back facing the blonde while her innocent brown eyes look up at me. Almost everything about her body language is telling me that she doesn't want to leave.

  I kneel down so that I can meet her at eye level. Even though I already know the answer to the question, I ask her it anyway: "Do you know this woman, sweetheart?"

  Taylor immediately shakes her head without hesitation. It seems that she has chosen not to acknowledge the woman which gives me plenty more reason to keep her here with me. I stand back up after hearing her answer and turn my gaze back toward the blonde. A mixture of anger, betrayal, and disbelief is written all over her face. Her bitter look of astonishment is a pretty priceless image for me to have witnessed, but I quickly move to hide my amusement.

  "I'm sorry, Miss, but the kid isn't leaving here until her legal guardian shows up. End of story. I hope you can understand that," I say with a smirk.

  This time, it's the blonde who has nothing to say in response to my statement. The only reaction that I can gather from her is in the form of a heavy scowl dwelling on her lips. Seeing her stand there with a loss for words fills me with immense satisfaction. Although I know it's petty of me to find joy in her displeased face, I can't say it doesn't feel good to knock her down a notch from that proud pedestal that she's standing on.