The Nanny and the CEO (8 page)

“So whom do you plan to hire?”

“I'm not sure of anything yet, but it goes without saying that whoever she is, she'll be entirely unsuitable.”

A small sad smile broke the corner of Reese's wide mouth. “You're a clever man gaining my sympathy so I'll be a willing accomplice.”

“Let's just say that for Jamie's sake, I'd like your help. Are you with me on this?”

Her gaze darted to the baby, who was just starting to wake up. She let out a troubled sigh. “You're my employer. I need this job and I love Jamie, so I'll do my best for you.”

Nick ignored the little dart he felt when she referred to him as her employer. He hoped she might be inclined to do it for him. Shaking this off, he pulled out his wallet and put some bills on the table. “You have another full week before I force you to face the dragon. Put the thought away until you have to deal with her.”

“That's not so easy to do.”

“But possible. Remember I've had longer practice at this than you.” He stood up. “If you'll push the stroller, I'll carry Jamie back to the car. He loves his bath so much, I think I'll take him for a little swim and see how he does. Have you been swimming yet?”

She hurried to keep up with him. “I don't have a suit.”

“But you
can
swim?”

“Yes.”

“In my teens I did a lot of sailing. It's a sport I'd like to do with my son. If he's going to share that love with me, then he needs to start getting used to the water. Already he feels safe with you. The next time you go out with Jamie, buy yourself one. Consider it your uniform and put it on my account.”

If she wanted to squirm her way out of that,
too bad.

O
N
S
ATURDAY
,
Reese tried to study, but finally gave up. With Nick and Jamie gone from the penthouse, she was at a totally loose end. After fixing herself a sandwich for lunch, she took off for Macy's at Herald Square.

The crowded ten-story department store contained everything including the unimaginable. One would have to be here days to see it all. She ended up spending hours walking around. Eventually she found some swimsuits on sale for her and Jamie.

With Father's Day coming up, she shipped her dad a small framed picture of New York showing Park Avenue. She slipped in a note telling him to hang it in his office.

While she was looking at the toys, she discovered a wooden hand-painted toy sailboat in sky-blue with a white canvas sail Jamie could give his father. It was the perfect size to fit on a desk or a dresser. The artist on hand personalized it on the keel for her with quick-drying black paint.
The Flying NJ.
When it was finished, she asked the salesgirl to gift wrap it.

Since she was in the right place, she purchased some doughnut toys and a colorful octopus that played classi
cal music when you touched the tentacles. By the time she got back to the apartment, it was after seven.

As she turned down the hall to her bedroom, she almost bumped into Nick. “Oh—I didn't realize you were home.” Her pulse raced out of control to see him standing there in tan trousers and a midnight-blue silk shirt. He looked and smelled marvelous.

His dark eyes took swift inventory of her in her jeans and layered top. “Looks like you've been having fun. Is there a bikini inside one of those bags?”

Her cheeks grew warm for no reason. “Yes, among other things.”

“I hope you put everything on my account.”

Reese shook her head. “Not today. Excuse me while I put them away.”

He rubbed his hard jaw. “I don't know about you, but I haven't had dinner yet. Paul is going to drive us to Nolia's in Greenwich Village. The salmon and sea bass are to die for.”

She bit her lip. He obviously needed to unwind after being with his in-laws. “Won't it make too long a day for Jamie?”

“He's staying in tonight. Rita, one of the maids who's been working here a long time, is going to take care of him while we're gone. I'm expecting her any minute.”

Reese took a shaky breath. Going out to dinner with Nick alone wasn't part of her nanny job, but as the thought of turning down his offer entered her mind, she realized that she wanted to be with him so badly, she felt an ache to the palms of her hands.

“What should I wear?”

“Anything you feel like.”

In other words, formal dress wasn't required. She was hot and sticky and needed a shower first.

“Don't take too long. I'm starving,” he said in a husky tone.

She'd been hungry when she'd walked in the door, but with those words her stomach had too many butterflies to know what she was feeling. “I'll hurry.”

Ten minutes later she joined him in the foyer wearing a sleeveless dress with a rounded neck in an all-over black-on-white print. The summery outfit could be dressed up or down depending on her accessories. After brushing out her ponytail, she'd caught her hair back at the nape with a black chiffon scarf and slipped on low black heels.

When Nick saw her, the unmistakable glimmer in his eyes set a tone for the rest of the evening, making her feel feverish throughout their delicious dinner. A live jazz band prompted Nick to dance with her. He drew the eyes of every woman, young or old.

She thought of Cinderella, who got her chance to be spun around the castle ballroom with her prince. But in that childhood fairy tale, the author never described the feelings running riot inside the scullery maid who for one night had been transformed into a princess. The adult thoughts and desires of a woman weren't meant to be read by dreamy-eyed little girls.

Nick had told Reese he wanted her to experience some nightlife while she was in his employ. In her naïveté she'd given in to that temptation and thought she could handle it, but if he pulled her against his hard-muscled body one more time he'd feel her trembling.

“You're a wonderful dancer, Reese.”

“Thank you. So are you.”

“I could do this all night,” he murmured near her ear.

Don't say another word, Nick.
“If I hadn't walked around Macy's all afternoon, there's nothing I'd like more.”

“I forgot about that. You should have said something sooner. We'll go.”

Ever the consummate host who went out of his way to make her comfortable, they left the restaurant and rode back to the apartment in the limo. The maid was there to meet them.

“Jamie never made a peep.”

“Thank you, Rita.”

“Anytime.” Her brown eyes flicked to Reese with interest before she left the penthouse.

When the door closed, Reese looked up at her incredibly handsome escort. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Nick. I must be the luckiest nanny in New York with the nicest employer and the sweetest little boy.”

His eyes were veiled as he smiled at her. “We'll have to do it again.”

No, no.

“Lest you've forgotten, Cinderella only had one night at the ball. It wouldn't do for the hired help to expect a repeat with the prince. Good night, Nick.”

Reese left for her bedroom having meant what she'd said. To lose her head over this man when she was being paid to do a job for him would bring heartache—the kind she instinctively knew she would never recover from.

For the rest of the week she made certain she and Jamie were there to greet him when he walked through the door of the penthouse, but that was all. Once she'd
told him about Jamie's day and answered any questions he had, she disappeared to get going on her studies.

On the following Friday she was studying on her laptop when she heard Jamie's distinct cry through the baby monitor. He hadn't built up to it. One minute it was quiet in the room. In the next, he'd let go as if he'd awakened with a nightmare, or was in pain.

He'd only been down for an hour since his one-o'clock bottle. She slid off the bed and rushed across the hall to the nursery. Alarmed to see him in so much distress, she picked him up to comfort him.

“Uh-oh—you're hot.” She walked over to the dresser with him to get the thermometer. To date his health had been so perfect, she'd almost taken it for granted.

“Hmm…l01.4. That's not good. Let's check to see what's going on.” When she undid his stretchy outfit and diaper, she discovered he'd had diarrhea. “Oh—you've got a stomachache.” She got him all clean again and put him in a fresh diaper and a shirt.

For the next hour she walked him around the apartment on her shoulder, singing every song she could remember to comfort him. He remained restless and whimpered, then let out another heartrending cry before she felt him have another loose movement.

Back she went to the nursery and cleaned him up once more. This time she applied some rash cream so he wouldn't get sore. When she picked him up again, he burrowed into her neck, still feeling hot.

Without hesitation she carried him to her bedroom and phoned Nick on her cell. This was the first time she'd called him at his office since coming to work for him. Though she hated disturbing him, she knew he'd want to be told.

“Reese?” He picked up on the third ring. “Is there a problem?”

“I'm glad you answered. Jamie's come down with diarrhea and is running a temperature of 101. He's going to need fluids to lower it, but I'm not sure what the doctor would prescribe.”

“I'll phone Dr. Wells right now. How long has Jamie been sick? When I left him this morning, he seemed fine.”

“I know. He woke up crying in the middle of his afternoon nap. My sister Carrie uses Pedialyte when her baby gets dehydrated, so ask the doctor about that. Since we don't have any on hand, I'll give him some water for now.”

“I'm on my way out the door,” he declared in a decisive tone. “I'd planned to come home early anyway.” Secretly she was relieved. Normally Nick hid his emotions well, but this was his little boy who was ill. He must be as nervous as she was, if not more so. “While you try to get more liquid down him, I'll call the doctor then stop by the drugstore.”

“Good.”

“I'll be home soon.”

After she hung up, she went to the kitchen for a bottle and filled it with cool water. Jamie seemed eager enough to drink, but by the time she reached the nursery and fed him a little, he threw up.

She put him in the crib and changed his clothes for a second time. His temp had climbed another tenth of a degree. She wet a cloth and sponged his forehead and cheeks.

Before long Nick entered the penthouse. “Reese?”

“In the nursery.”

As he came through the door, Jamie threw up once more. It frightened him so much he started crying harder. After she'd wiped off his mouth, Nick pulled him out of her arms and cuddled him against his chest. “Hey, sport—what happened to you?”

Her gaze fused with Nick's. “Did you reach the doctor?”

“His nurse said he'd call me back. In the meantime we're to try and get liquids down him in small increments.”

“I've been doing that, but after a minute, up it comes. It must be some kind of flu.”

“Maybe the Pedialyte will stay down.” Nick kissed his forehead. “The nurse said it was good to use. I got him cherry. He's a lucky little guy you're here for him.”

Nick was always ready to praise her. It made her want to do everything right in his eyes. “I'll take it to the kitchen and put some in a sterile bottle.” When she returned to the nursery Nick told her the doctor had called. “We're to keep a close eye on him. If we can't get anything to stay down, we're to take him to emergency. The hospital will keep him informed.”

She nodded. By evening he'd thrown up enough times to convince her this was serious. His temperature never dropped. “He seems too lethargic.”

Lines marred Nick's face. “Let's take him to the hospital. I'll tell Paul to bring the car around.”

“While you hold him, I'll put some things in the diaper bag for him.”

In a short time they left the penthouse. Paul drove them to the E.R. entrance and they hurried inside with Jamie lying limp against his daddy's shoulder.

One of the emergency-room staff showed them to a
cubicle. Right after that another person came inside the curtain. His tag said he was Dr. Marsh. He got to work checking the baby's vital signs. “How long has he been sick?”

Jamie didn't like being examined. His cries wrenched Reese's heart. “Since about two o'clock. It came on so fast I couldn't believe it. We've tried to get liquids down him, but he just spits it up and hasn't urinated for several hours.”

“We'll have to culture him to find out if this infection is bacterial, but I'd say he's picked up Rotavirus.”

“What is it exactly?” Nick's features had darkened in anxiety.

“A disease of the bowel that causes diarrhea and vomiting. Most children have had several incidences of it by the time they're five.”

“How would he have gotten it?”

“It's transmitted several ways, but I would imagine your son picked it up through the air. Someone's cough could have spread it. It's highly contagious.”

“I've heard it's serious—” Reese blurted.

“It can be when left untreated. If I'm right, we'll put him in isolation and hydrate him with an IV to bring back his body's salt and fluid levels to normal. He should get through this just fine.”

Should?
She and Nick shared a panicked glance.

“Who's your pediatrician?”

“Dr. Hebert Wells.”

“In a minute a team will come in to take a blood sample. When we know for sure what we're dealing with, we'll call him. If it's bacterial, your doctor will treat him with an antibiotic.”

Reese hugged her arms to her waist in agitation.
“What more could we have done to have prevented this?”

The doctor eyed her with compassion. “As long as you're constantly washing your hands before and after you attend to your baby, that's pretty much all you can do.” Jamie wasn't
her
baby, but she loved the sound of it.

“Reese has been very careful about that,” Nick interjected. “I need to do it more often.”

“Washing hands can prevent all kinds of illnesses.”

Nick's lips tightened. “If an IV is called for, where will you insert it—he's so small?” He'd taken the question right out of her mouth.

“The IV team will decide, but probably in his foot. It hurts for a minute, but then it's over.” Reese shared another worried glance with Nick.

“Go ahead and hold your baby until one of the staff shows you to the isolation area.”

As the doctor left the cubicle, Nick reached for Jamie. Once he was back in his father's strong arms, he quieted down a little bit, but clearly he was miserable. Reese smoothed her hand over the back of his head. “You're all wiped out, aren't you, sweetheart.”

“We're both here—” Nick talked to his son in a low, comforting tone “—and you're going to get feeling better soon.”

Reese wanted to believe it, too, but she'd heard the underlying concern in his voice and was scared to death herself because the illness had robbed Jamie of his vitality.

In a minute someone came and took them through double doors to a restricted area where they were set up
in a private room. Jamie cried some more. “I think he wants you, Reese.” Nick handed the baby to her.

She hugged Jamie close and sang to him. The music kept him somewhat calm. When she lifted her eyes to Nick, she caught a look of such pain in his, it shattered her.

Something in his expression told Reese that Nick was thinking about his wife and how he'd lost her so quickly after they'd reached the hospital. In the two weeks she'd known Nick, he'd never talked about her except to explain how she'd died. Reese refused to consider the possibility that he was worrying his son would be taken from him, too, in so short a time.