Chapter 21 I'm staring at three monitors of code while I try to write a new software program that will cut corners for me when my work phone buzzes against my glass desk. The caller ID reads Monroe Building Daycare, which throws me. Liora has her work phone forwarded to mine since she's at her clinical, and Champagne is down on the fifth floor today dealing with a marketing issue. For a split second, I consider not answering. What business would I have with the daycare? But then I remember Liora dropped Hazel off there before her clinical this morning. Shit. "Vander Moore," I answer. "Oh, Mr. Moore. I'm sorry. I was trying to reach Liora James." "Yes, she's my assistant and is out of the office right now. Her calls are forwarded to me." "I'm sorry to bother you, sir. This is Bethany from the building daycare. I'm calling about Hazel James." I sit up straighter, a flash of alarm racing through me. "Is something wrong?" "She has a fever of 101.2 along with a runny nose and a slight cough. The daycare policy states she needs to be picked up within an hour. We've tried reaching Liora, but⁠-" "Liora's at a clinical rotation today. And often when she's there, she doesn't hear or see her phone." I check the time: 8:47. Liora won't be done until noon at the earliest. "Um. Okay. But we need someone to come and pick Hazel up. Is there a father or someone else we should try? She doesn't have anyone listed as an emergency contact." Of course she doesn't. I haven't seen or talked to Liora since Thursday when I bought her clothes and then smelled my fucking bodywash on her skin. For every step I take toward her, I've been forcing myself to take two back, and that's what I've done. All weekend, I kept my distance even if I did occasionally watch them at the house on my security cameras. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. "Mr. Moore?" I realize I've been silent too long. "I'll be down in ten minutes." "Um..." "It's okay. Liora and Hazel are mine and live with me." I end the call and stare at the lines of code I was writing. I can do this at home as easily as I can do it here, which I guess is a good thing because I'm about to pick up Liora's sick kid and take her home. This should be interesting. With a sigh, I close the windows and engage my custom lock screen. CEO by day, hacker by... also day in this case. Just not the type of hacker anyone expects, though Liora certainly figured it out. I send a quick message to Champagne letting her know I'm going to be working from home for the rest of the day, pack up my stuff, and head downstairs. I've only been to the daycare once during the building tour five years ago when I bought the place and moved us from our other location. The daycare is a bright, overstimulating explosion of primary colors and cartoon animals painted on walls. A security door requires people to be buzzed in, and I press the button and look into the camera. "Mr. Moore." A young woman approaches me. "I'm Bethany. We spoke on the phone. Thank you for coming so quickly. I hope you know this isn't standard procedure for us." "It's fine. I promise you. I can sign whatever you need me to sign. Where's Hazel?" I ask, scanning the room. There are five rooms off the main registration area, but no kids are out here. "She's right over here. We've kept her isolated since we noticed the fever. Her backpack is with her. Her temperature has fluctuated between 101 and 102. No vomiting or diarrhea, but her nose seems to be pretty runny, and she's started coughing." I nod but already plan to call Stone and Liora the moment I leave here, though I don't want to upset Liora. She already missed a day of clinical after she was attacked, and I know she can't miss more. "Hazel," Bethany calls softly as another worker brings her out of a room. "Look who's here to take you home." No one knows Liora or Hazel live with me, but I've officially let that cat out of the bag. Not the best thing to have done, but what choice did I have? If Bethany thinks it's odd that I'm picking Hazel up and referred to her and Liora as mine, she isn't letting on. Hazel looks up, her normally bright blue eyes dull, and her cheeks flushed bright red with fever. Recognition flickers across her face, followed immediately by uncertainty and disappointment. In the week she's lived in my house, our interactions have been minimal at best. "Mr. Vander?" Her voice is small and scratchy, and she pronounces words by putting Ws as almost every other letter. "Hey, kiddo," I say, approaching her with my best rendition of a warm, comforting smile. "Your mom is at the hospital helping people, so I'm going to take you home." Her lower lip trembles. "I want Mommy." "I know." I want your mommy, too. Sigh. I push that away and kneel so I'm her height. "She'll come home as soon as she can, okay?" Hazel clutches her worn stuffed rabbit to her chest. It's missing an eye and most of one ear. The thing should have been replaced ages ago, but she loves it. "Can I pick you up?" She eyes me, clearly still unsure about me, and who can blame her? Finally she nods, and I lift her into my arms and hold her against my chest. And wow, does she feel warm. "Thanks," I say to Bethany as she hands me Hazel's pink Princess Peach backpack, and I head toward the exit holding Hazel. I rode my bike in today, but Liora drove the Porsche I got her and then took the T over to MGH. Thankfully, I have an extra set of keys for it with me. "I'm going to call Mommy from the car," I explain. "Your body is hot, and unlike nearly everyone else in my life, I'm not a doctor and have no idea what to do to help you feel better." The walk to the private elevator bank is mercifully brief, and Hazel rests her head against my shoulder. My hand automatically comes up to hold her, my palm flat against her back where I can feel her rapid heartbeat. I remember when Rory was this size, and if I can't get in touch with Stone or Liora, I'm definitely calling Owen. I'm good at hanging out with kids. I even like them. But sick kids are off my radar, and this one barely knows me. I reach the car and get her buckled into her car seat. The car starts up with a soft purr, and I call Liora, not surprised when her phone rings twice and goes to voicemail. Hazel whimpers when she hears it. "It's okay, kiddo. I'll take good care of you until your mommy comes home." With a sniffly sigh that seems too world-weary for someone barely past her second birthday, Hazel looks out the window and leaves me to it. It hits me rather bluntly just how hard Liora has had it. How long she's been doing this on her own with little to no resources. She may be a sexy pain in my ass, but any reservations I had about her working for me and moving into my house are gone. As I pull out of the garage, Stone picks up. "This better be good. We've got two traumas about to roll in." "Hey. I have Liora's⁠-" He groans. "Dude, for real? Your obsession with this woman⁠-" "One, you're in zero place to judge obsession, and two, I have her daughter, Hazel, with me, and you're on speakerphone." "Oh. Why? What's up?" "I need a sick kid consultation." "Give me the bullet." "Two-and-a-half-year-old with a fever between 101 and 102, who seems to have a stuffy nose and a slight cough." There's a pause. "Any shortness of breath or lethargy? Is she up to date on her vaccines? Is she eating and drinking okay?" "Not that I can tell, and how on earth would I know that? I'm going to say yes to being up to date on vaccines since she's Liora's, but I have no clue about the eating and drinking stuff since I just picked her up." "Look at you, Daddy Vander," Stone teases, and I can hear the smirk in his voice. "Playing house is just so cute and domestic for you." "Can you help or not?" I snap, instantly regretting my tone when Hazel flinches in the back seat. "Any other symptoms? Rash? Vomiting? Diarrhea?" "No. It seems to be just this, and she's barely coughed." Except as I say that, naturally, she starts to cough. "It's a little wet, but nothing bad," Stone notes. "It's probably viral, but it could be a million things-a cold, the flu, or early stages of something else like an ear infection or strep throat. Without seeing her, I can't say for sure. Has she had any medication today?" "No. Not that I know of. They just had me come down and pick her up." "Did you call your girlfriend-I mean her mother?" Fucker. "She's working. I called her, but she didn't pick up. I'll text her and let her know what the deal is and that I'm taking Hazel home." "Home. I love that." "Stop being a di-jerk," I finish, dragging a hand across my bristly jaw as we come to a stoplight. "It's not like that, and you know it." "Actually, I don't. Not even a little. I think it's exactly like that. In fact, I hope it is. We all do. You just haven't faced it yet. I'm only messing with you because I want you to wake up and see this for what it is and what it should be." Before I can rebuke any of that, he continues with, "Keep her hydrated with things like water, juice, or Pedialyte, but avoid dairy for now. If Liora's okay with it, she can have children's ibuprofen and acetaminophen. Give her ten to fifteen milligrams per kilogram." "What the what now?" "The dosing is on the box. Just read the box. Alternate them if the fever stays up. Call me if she develops any new symptoms or if the fever goes above 103." "That's it?" "That's it, unless you want to bring her here to the ER and have her wait. It's a full house today, and she's non-emergent." I glance at Hazel in the rearview mirror. Her eyes are half-closed, and her rabbit is crushed to her chest. "No, I'll take her home. Thanks, brother. As always, you keep it simple for me," I deadpan. "That's my job. And Vander?" His tone shifts, becoming less mocking. "Kids are tougher than they look. You won't break her. I gotta run. My traumas are rolling in." Stone disconnects the call, and I type out a quick text to Liora before the light turns green and I drive us across the Harvard Bridge into Cambridge. Ten minutes later, I'm pulling into my driveway and unbuckling Hazel. The house is quiet and dark but clean. Liora lives here, but you'd never know it. She hasn't added any of her stuff to any of my spaces. Not that she had a lot, but other than a couple of Hazel's toys and things neatly tucked away, the rest is untouched. "Are you hungry?" I ask, setting her down in the kitchen. She shakes her head. I have no idea if Liora has medicine for her or not, but I quickly go online and order up the stuff Stone mentioned to be delivered along with other things like popsicles, soup, a thermometer, and Pedialyte. Things I remember my mother having when I was little and sick. "So, um. Do you want to watch TV?" "Yes," she says, her voice small. She walks toward my family room, where I have the eighty-five-inch TV, and looks at me before she climbs up onto the sofa. "Are you mad?" "What?" I ask, caught off guard. I haven't been mean or short with her, have I? "I not to be on sofa," she whispers like she's committing a crime. "Little hands make big messes." I cough out a laugh. "Is that what your mommy says?" She nods. I look at the pristine gray leather beneath her. "It's fine. You can sit and play on it. I don't care if you make a mess, and if you make a big one, I can always replace it." I turn on the TV and see it's already set for PBS Kids. "Is this good?" "I like Super Why." "Is that what this is?" She laughs. "Yes, silly." But then she starts coughing a lot, and worry strikes through me. "Don't move, okay? I'll be right back." I run and grab a glass of water, only to remember she's fucking two and a half, and search through the cabinets until I find one of her cups with a straw built in. When I return, she's exactly where I left her, though she's arranged her rabbit on the cushion beside her and appears to be having a whispered conversation with it. "She has boo-boo ears," she informs me seriously as I hand her the water. I'm not about to point out the fact that this thing only has one ear. "Does she?" I sit beside her, making a note of that. Maybe I should bring her into the emergency room to see Stone. "What's her name?" "Bunny." She says this like it's the most obvious name in the world. "It's perfect for her." She giggles, then winces. "Do you have boo-boo ears too?" She nods and crawls over to curl into my side. "Then we'll avoid funny things." I pull out my phone. "Your mom doesn't have her phone on her at the hospital, but I'm going to send her a message she'll get when she's done." Me: Hazel says she has boo-boo ears. Fuck, I can't believe I just sent that in a text. Me: Not sure if you want to bring home something to look in them or I can have one of my friends come over and examine her and write her a prescription if needed. I ordered her ibuprofen and Tylenol. Is it okay to give them to her? "Tell her Bunny is sick," Hazel interrupts. I pause. Sigh. Me: Hazel wants you to know Bunny is sick too. "I miss Mommy." "I know. She'll be home soon." Me: We're fine. Take your time. I send the messages knowing Liora will see them the moment she checks her phone. And knowing her, she'll likely panic. Until then, it's just me and this tiny, fevered person who's looking at me like I might have answers. "What do you do when you're sick?" I ask her, realizing I have no idea what sick children need beyond medicine I can't give her without permission. Hazel considers this. "I like Bluey." "Bluey?" I repeat. "Is that a show?" The look she gives me is pure pity. "It's my favorite." "Right. Of course." I reach for the remote and navigate to the streaming services. "Let's see if we can find it." It takes only a moment to locate the show. Apparently, it's popular enough to be featured prominently. Within minutes, animated dogs with Australian accents fill my screen, and Hazel's expression brightens immediately. "Bluey!" she exclaims, then dissolves into a coughing fit. I pat her back awkwardly. "Water," I remind her, handing her the sippy cup. She drinks obediently, her eyes never leaving the screen. I watch her more than the show, fascinated by how quickly she's gone from wary to comfortable in my presence. I want her to be comfortable, not only with me, but here in the house. I don't like thinking about how rough she's already had it. How uncertain and scary her life has been at the hands of men. Liora has done all she can for her, and it makes me love her all the more. That pulls me up short. Wait. Love her? No. I don't... What else would you call it? Obsession. I almost smile, but it's only to compensate for the way my heart is hammering. My issues are my own, and even though I know Liora likes to push my buttons and see just how much she can rile me up-newsflash, it's a lot-I don't want to be another thing in her life she has to survive. I glance down at my arm, at the tattoo hidden beneath my shirt. She deserves better than that. And yet, I've never wanted anyone else but her. More than that, I don't think there's anything in this world I wouldn't do for her... and for Hazel. So maybe... maybe it's okay that I love her. I keep them safe, and now they have nice clothes, and Liora can save money. I still have no clue what's going on between her and her father, and any searching I do into him is slow, controlled, and isn't revealing a whole lot. Then again, I'm trying to be the mouse nibbling at crumbs instead of the lion chasing its prey and eating the whole carcass at once. By the end of the fourth episode, Hazel's eyelids begin to droop. I check my watch and see that nearly an hour has passed since we got home. I go in search of a blanket from the hall closet, but when I put it over her, she shocks me by climbing on top of me and resting her head on my chest. My hands run down the back of her head, and I shift so I'm supine with her over me. "Will you watch too?" she asks, her voice small and her blue eyes large and hopeful. She looks so much like Liora, it makes my chest clench. Something weird and foreign pulls at my insides. "I'll be right here," I promise. I intend to work, but that's impossible with her on me like this, so instead I find myself watching her drift into sleep, her breaths becoming deeper and more even. This child and her mother have been living in my house, yet I've engineered my schedule to avoid them both. At first, it was simple self-preservation. Liora as my assistant was one thing. Liora in my home with her sweet smell, smart mouth, and sexy body was dangerous territory. So I retreated, working late, leaving early if I came home at all, and dining out. And now here I sit, voluntarily in the company of the smaller James girl, and wondering how my life has changed so much in such a short amount of time. Strangely, I don't hate it, and Stone's words from earlier ring through my head. Am I there? Has it always been her? What would that mean for my life if that's true? A weird sound rouses me from the half-dream I was having. My eyes slowly open to find Liora crouched on the floor beside me with her phone raised in her hand as she takes a picture of me with Hazel fast asleep on my chest. "Hi," I whisper, feeling a little bad that I fell asleep when I was supposed to be watching Hazel. "Dude!" She smacks my shoulder playfully. "Learn to pick up your phone or answer texts. I had about ten thousand heart attacks on the T ride home." Oh, shit. I wince. "Sorry. I didn't hear it. Maybe I left it on vibrate by mistake." "Clearly, since you fell asleep." I get an eye roll. "You took the T?" I frown. I should have sent a car for her. Crap. "Yes. It's only a couple of stops on the red line out here from the hospital." She drags her hand over the back of Hazel's sleeping head. "Is she okay? You said she has boo-boo ears?" Her lips bounce, and yeah, I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass. "That's what she told me. I was simply relaying a message." "Uh-huh. Sure. I get it." She winks at me and I melt a little too much at that. "I made an appointment at her pediatrician for two." "Good. I didn't hear from you, so I didn't give her medicine yet, but it's on the counter along with some other things. Stone recommended alternating ibuprofen and Tylenol if you're comfortable with that." "You called Stone?" Her eyes go round and flicker around my face. "Yeah. Why are you staring at me like that?" "No reason." She shakes her head as her shoulders drop, tension visibly leaving her body. "I came home as soon as I got your messages," she whispers. "I was so worried. I feel terrible I wasn't there to get her and that you had to." "It's fine. I didn't have that much going on today anyway." I smirk and glance down at a sleeping Hazel on my chest. "Clearly I needed a nap too." She looks at me, eyes shining with something I can't identify. She shifts closer to me and cups my face. The feel of her soft hand on my skin is better than anything. "Thank you, Vander. You didn't have to do any of this, but I'm so grateful. Once again, you've saved us." With her eyes on mine and then down at my lips, she leans in and gives me the softest, sweetest kiss of my life. Softer than the one I gave her that first time all those years ago. And fuck. Because, yeah. I love Liora. With the way I'm feeling right now, I'm not sure I ever stopped. "It's fine." I brush her touch off before I do something stupid like kiss her back. It's the one thing I've resisted. The one thing I knew that would push me over the edge. "I learned a lot about animated Australian dogs." Liora laughs softly, and the sound, along with her smile, does something liquid and warm to my insides. "Bluey is sacred in our household." "So I gathered." She moves close now, and my gaze naturally falls to her plump, pink lips. A strand of hair has fallen across her face, and before I can think better of it, I reach out to tuck it behind her ear. Her breath catches, and my fingers linger against her skin longer than necessary, tracing the delicate shell of her ear before reluctantly pulling away. "You should get changed," I say, my voice rougher than I intend. "You smell like the hospital instead of like me." "Always the charmer," she murmurs, but she's smiling, a slight flush rising to her cheeks at my mentioning how she stole my shampoo and body wash. For a moment, we simply look at each other, the air between us charged with all the things we've been dancing around. "I'll take her up so you can have your sofa back." She scoops a still-sleeping Hazel up in her arms and heads for the stairs before turning back to me. "Thank you, Vander." I nod. "Hey, Liora?" I call out to her, and she stops. "She can sit on the sofa any time. I don't care if she makes a mess." Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the Fɪndηovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Something crosses Liora's features, and then she continues up the stairs. I watch her go, unable to comprehend the familiar emotion lodged in my throat. Because whether I like it or not, it's as Stone said. I'm already there. I just haven't accepted it yet.