Chapter 3 03

Chapter 03 « It's alright, » Mr King chuckles, knowingly flapping his hands at me. « I thought it was a great opportunity to earn some extra income since you did say you want to move out of your current living space and he also mentioned that it would be best if you moved in with him to take care of his baby full time. »

Gulping nervously, I stare at my boss as if he had just grown horns out of his head. If this is one of his, I'm-going-to-find-this-girl-a-boyfriend-before-I-turn-thirty-even-if-it's-the-last-thing-I-do plans, I'd rather die than participate.

I still remember the god-awful dentist he set me up with last month. Jeez, the guy kept glancing at my teeth throughout dinner like he was about to hand me a treatment plan instead of dessert. I shudder at the memory.

« Mr King, I... » I begin, my voice barely above a whisper, hoping to reason with him before things spiral out of control.

« Lucifer, » a vaguely familiar voice interrupts, coming from the office door as it swings open with a loud creak. « I need that girl you were talking about. Where is she? »

Mr King smiles excitedly, practically vibrating with energy as he points directly at me. I feel like I've just received a death sentence. Slowly, dreadfully, I turn around and come face to face with the man who had picked up my papers for me at the coffee house. His eyes are solely trained on mine, intense and unwavering, causing me to blush furiously and turn away immediately.

Oh no.

So, this is how I met him. Alexander Holt. CEO of Haven & Holts Incorporated and, apparently, my boss's latest set up my editor with a guy plan.

My stomach churns.

« So, you're Janetta Summers, » Alexander Holt comments casually, now sitting behind my desk in my own office as if he owned the place-which, technically, he could probably buy if he wanted to. « I hope your papers are alright. »

I perch nervously on the chair across from him, feeling smaller than ever.

« You can call me Jane if you'd like, » I mumble, focusing on my hands that are tightly entwined on my lap, still embarrassed about the way I acted towards him at the coffee house. « The papers are fine...sorry for running away from you so fast, I hope I didn't offend you in any way. »

Alexander leans back slightly in the chair, studying me with that same unreadable expression he wore at the coffee house.

« Lucifer said you like children, » he continues as if I hadn't said anything, his tone cold and emotionless, fitting the image I have of someone like him-wealthy, untouchable, and likely incapable of warmth.

« Yes, » I hesitantly return, forcing myself to meet his gaze, which I instantly regret when his cold grey eyes pierce into mine, increasing my nervousness tenfold. How do I always get roped into things I should have absolutely nothing to do with?

« I understand that Lucifer recommended you without your knowledge, » he adds, his voice flat, though there's a glint of curiosity in his eyes that unsettles me. « The job requires you to live in my house so you can take care of the child full-time. »

The child? Is that what he calls his baby? How strange.

I shift in my seat, trying to stay composed. « I'm fine with that. Mr King did at least mention that part before you came into his office, » I offer, nodding politely. « I was looking to move out of my current living space anyways. »

Alexander nods once, as if satisfied by my answer.

« The pay is fairly high, cornering around twenty thousand dollars per month, » he mentions, watching me carefully, as if anticipating some wide-eyed reaction of awe or excitement.

When I give none-because honestly, I'm too stunned to process that amount-he adds, « Juggling between your regular job and taking care of it, I'd like to know how it will work out, and if there is anything I can do to help. »

It? My mind stumbles.

I bite my bottom lip, heart pounding in my chest, before gathering enough courage to speak. « If I can suggest something, it would be better if you didn't refer to your baby as an 'it' or 'the child'? I just feel it's a little...um...appalling?...As your baby's father, I mean, to be calling he or her something so...emotionless? »

The room goes deathly quiet. I squeeze my hands together tighter, willing them not to shake.

« Not that I'm saying your parenting ways are bad... » I stammer, « it's just not...advisable? »

Alexander's eyes darken, the air between us shifting from icy to suffocating in a blink.

I feel a chill go down my spine, the hair at the back of my neck standing on end. His stare alone feels like it's burying me six feet under.

This feeling cannot be good.

« I don't need you to tell me how to be a father, » he speaks coolly, his tone polite but laced with warning, the total opposite of the death glare he's sending my way. « I just need you to take care of it. »

There it is again-it.

I bite down on my lip harder to stop myself from snapping back something reckless. I have bills to pay. Dreams to chase. And besides, it's not my place to argue with a man like Alexander Holt, no matter how maddening he might be.

« Of course, » I whisper, dropping my gaze to my lap once more.

There's a beat of heavy silence before he continues.

« I'll have my driver pick you up this Saturday. Be packed and ready by 9 AM. You'll be living in the west wing of my estate. Your living quarters are separate, but you will have access to everything necessary for the child's care. »

The child's care. I clench my jaw slightly, willing myself to accept the terms.

« Understood, » I say quietly.

Alexander stands up without another word, towering over me, and for a second I catch a flicker of something in his eyes-something hollow and pained-but it's gone before I can even process it.

Without sparing another glance at me, he strides toward the door.

« Welcome to Haven Manor, Jane, » he says coldly over his shoulder before disappearing into the hall.

The door clicks shut, and I'm left sitting there, stunned, wondering how on earth I went from coffee spills to twenty thousand dollars a month, a live-in nanny job, and a boss who looks at his own baby like an unwanted task.

Something tells me my life is about to get a lot more complicated.