Page 18 of Up for Heir (Westerly Billionaire 2)
“Perfect,” Hailey said with a warm smile that made him think the second time around might be even better than the first.
Chapter Seven
Hailey took a sip of the soda the waitress had delivered and asked herself why it had been so important to see Spencer. Is it loneliness and loss that brought me here, or something more? Am I trying to recapture part of the past?
What was Delinda hoping would come out of us meeting up?
Did she want confirmation that it wouldn’t be a problem for her family?
Or was she playing matchmaker?
I wish I knew which outcome ends my employment with her. Is there any way to do this without risking everything? “Promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t tell anyone about today or that we’re talking again. Okay?”
He didn’t look happy with her request. “Why not?”
I should just say it now—clear the air. Spencer, I’m working for your grandmother.
Yeah, that would go over well.
What if he has a problem with me being there? Am I willing to accept the consequences when I’m not the one it might hurt the most?
I have to be smart about this. There must be an option that leaves all of us in a better place.
But maybe not one that starts with me blurting everything out. “My employer is very particular. Very. Very. Particular.”
“Even about what you do on your own time?”
“She’s an older woman with some boundary issues—”
“Then you need to set her straight that your personal life is none of her business.”
“It’s not that simple.” Hailey’s mouth dried at the thought she might not be making the right choice. “I can’t lose this job.”
He leaned forward. “Talk to me.”
She needed a shoulder even if the one he was offering was risky to accept. “I had a career up until recently. I’m not irresponsible.”
“I know you’re not. Things happen.”
She searched his face and found no hint of judgment, so she continued. “I was a retail purchaser for DIY Rite, but after Ryan died I took a lot of time off work. I’m not sorry I did. Given a chance to do it over, that’s what I would do again in a heartbeat. But it did get me terminated. I told myself that once the dust settled, it would be easy enough to find another position, but that wasn’t how it worked out.” Hailey paused, uncertain if she could share the story without revealing too much. “I came across this personal assistant opportunity, and it had everything I needed: a place to live, insurance, a good salary. It doesn’t matter if I like it or not. We need this.”
Spencer laid his hand over hers. “If you need money—”
Hailey shook her head. “It’s more complicated than that. Skye had a really hard time after her parents died.” Hailey waved a hand in the air. “I know what you’re thinking—of course she did. I thought I understood grieving, but before taking this job I was beginning to worry that nothing I did would help her. I was sinking beneath the weight of advice from professionals who kept telling me she was getting better, but I knew she wasn’t. She’d become nonverbal, needed to be homeschooled because she didn’t want to be around other children, and I felt like I was failing her . . .” Hailey took a deep, calming breath. “Unless you’d seen Skye before and after she met my employer, you wouldn’t understand how good the move has been for her. She’s talking. She’s excited again. If things stay the way they are, I think she’ll be returning to school soon. And it’s all because the woman I work for has this ability to reach Skye in a way I haven’t been able to. She says it, and Skye does it. Just like that. That easily.” Hailey winced when she heard resentment sneak into her tone. I don’t want to be that person. “I’m happy for the change in her. I really am. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He held her gaze. “You wanted to be the one to save Skye.”
As horrible as it was to admit, that was a truth she could bare to him. “Yes.”
He raised his hand to caress her cheek. “You did.”
Hailey shook her head. “I was the reason she stopped talking.”
“The death of her parents was the reason.”
I’m going to just say it. Get it out of my head. “I heard Skye say she stopped speaking because she thought everything she said made me sad. I never cried in front of her. I always waited until she was in her own bed. I didn’t know she could hear me. I knew she needed me to be strong. I thought I had been, but I failed her.” There.
Spencer stood up and slid into the booth beside her. He put an arm around her and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “You didn’t fail anyone. I hate that you went through that alone.” He looked as if he wanted to say more but was holding himself back.
Hailey closed her eyes briefly, determined not to cry in front of him again. “The worst of it is over. She’s looking more like her old self every day.” She opened her eyes but kept them glued to the table. “All I have to do now is not screw it up. It’s what I pray for every morning and pretty much what I pray for every night. I just want Skye to be a happy little girl again. I want her to have friends, go to school, come home, and argue with me over things that normal people argue over. I can’t afford to lose my job, not just because I need the money, but because I’m afraid of what will happen with Skye if we have to move again.”
“She’d survive. She has you.”
“That’s what I tell myself when I start to panic. I know this job isn’t forever, but for now it’s the best I can do.”
His arm tightened around her. “Hailey . . .”
She shrugged. She didn’t want him to feel sorry for her. That wasn’t why she’d come. “Enough about me. What about you? How’s your life?”
The inner beauty of the woman before him robbed him of his ability to answer immediately. The girl he’d known had grown into a strong and loving person. The depth of her loss and her ongoing struggle to reach her niece made the family issues Spencer had been dealing with seem trivial.
Life had battered Hailey, but it hadn’t broken her. She was more cautious, but she wasn’t bitter. Unlike him, she wasn’t angry and lashing out at those around her.
In truth, she deserved to be with a better man than him. The thought of her with anyone else, though, made his stomach clench painfully. He realized then that she was still waiting for him to answer. “It’s good. Busy. I have a virtual reality software company, WorkChat, that’s expanding faster than I dared to dream.”
She smiled, looking genuinely happy for him. “You got your cake.”
“My cake?” At nineteen, he hadn’t known to look for hidden layers in the words women used. He’d learned, though, that women sometimes spoke in code—like computers, but it was one they wrote as they went along. Nothing could be assumed. Something Hailey had said to him years earlier came back with unexpected clarity. “What does pie represent to you?”
She didn’t answer at first, and he half expected her to say she didn’t know what he was talking about. She did, though. He saw it in her eyes.
“Pie is something you could have every week without fanfare. It’s a comfort food. A family food. It’s what people serve when they gather on a Sunday afternoon.”
“And cake?”
“It’s a flashy celebration. Layers of intricate frosting designed to impress people.”
Ouch. “Back in college, you said you wanted pie, and I wanted cake.”
“I needed pie.” She looked relieved that he’d understood easily. “That’s why I moved back to be with my brother. I was falling apart, and I needed the security of being with someone who loved me.”
I loved you, he almost said, but he was beginning to wonder if he had known what love was back then. She had come second to his goals. He could have gotten her back if he had put aside the program he’d been working on and gone after her. Instead, he’d waited, confident that she’d be there when he finished his work. The more he’d heard about Brett runni
ng the family company, the more he needed to prove to himself that he didn’t need their father’s money. Proving himself had been an obsession back then. An obsession that had taken priority over making up with her. His love had been entitled and shallow.
They looked into each other’s eyes for a while.
She deserved so much better than I gave her. “I didn’t understand how much you needed me.”
“I know.”
“But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about you.”
“I know that now. I didn’t at the time.”
