The Kid, the Boss, and the Incorrigible Nanny

Part Twenty-Four

Adrian turned the handle on the sink faucet, watching the water tumble into his glass.

"You should relax, A," Michele had murmured.

He turned the tap off and stared at the glass in his hand for a moment before raising it to his lips. The cool water came as a shock. He hadn't realized how warm he'd gotten.

"You frown a lot."

Her eyes... the image of them glowing in the moonlight, how soft and inviting they seemed... he couldn't wipe them from his memory. Those eyes had given him the courage to reach up and close his grasp around her palm, sustained his momentary bravery as he slowly intertwined his fingers with hers.

They had stayed like that for a few minutes. He kept trying to come up with something to say. Was it okay? Had he overstepped his bounds? She had held his hand, had sat so still, he was afraid to speak for fear it would break the spell and she would disappear, fleeing to the hotel and up the stairs to her room.

If she had been thinking of escape she didn't show it. She had let him maintain his grasp until, at long last, he'd whispered, "It's getting late."

They separated as they stood, and the few seconds she spent folding the towel and tucking it into her arm had been torturous. But, finally, another miracle: she hadn't protested when he reached for her hand a second time. She hadn't pulled away until the very last moment when he'd forced himself to say goodnight outside of her room.

A soft ding came from his phone. He glanced in its direction on the counter next to him. Michele's name stared up at him from the screen. He decided to ignore her.

"I'm asleep," he whispered.

If only it were true. 

He sighed, switching the light off in the kitchen and making his way toward the bedroom suite.

Another ding infiltrated his ears. 

When was the last time he got a good night's rest without someone blowing up his phone with messages?

He became aware that he was frowning. He forced himself to relax the muscles in his face. He'd promised her he'd work on that.

"Goodnight, Adrian," she'd whispered. "Oops. I mean, Mister Lawson."

He hadn't told her the truth, that he was starting to forget why he had asked her to follow that ridiculous rule in the first place.

Now, he wished he'd asked to go inside with her, or for her to come to his room. He groaned.

"No. Don't think about that."

Kid had looked so soft that night at dinner, her smile so welcoming. He must have watched her tuck that stray piece of hair behind her ear a thousand times since they first met. 

He wanted to pull that hair loose and run his fingers through it. He wanted to hold her close to him, to-

"Seriously. Stop." He rolled his eyes at himself in the dark. He had too much to do the next day. He had to be awake in just a few hours, and that was going to be difficult enough to accomplish without spending the night thinking... those thoughts. 

He wasn't going to be that guy. He had seen it happen several times: men came to these conferences with their families, usually with a nanny in tow. He knew some of them by name, had made deals with them. He had shaken hands with their wives, only to bump into his business partners and their nannies in the hallways, coupled together, hardly caring that they had been seen.

I'm not married. It's not like I'd be doing it behind someone's back.

"It doesn't matter." He was drawn to her, that much was true. And as tempting as it was to pull himself out of bed right now and find his way back to her door, he knew it wasn't the right time.

To start, he was so nervous about meeting Clayborn tomorrow that he could hardly see straight. And as much as he longed to be lost in her, to feel her skin on his, to breathe in the scent of her shampoo, and to forget everything around them, he knew it would only be a distraction. He would be using her.

If they ever became that close — if by some miracle, he could find the time to get to know her and to make absolutely sure she wanted to be close to him as well — he wanted it to be right. 

He really, really wanted a cigarette. 

...

Michele scanned Adrian's face, taking in the slight darkness under his eyes. 

He wore a thin smile. It paired nicely with his pressed suit. Nothing about him looked out of place. She doubted anyone else in the room would even notice that he hadn't slept the night before.

"Good morning." She pulled him in for a quick hug. "You look exhausted," she whispered.

He kept his voice low. "I'm fine. Just ready to get this started." He noticed someone entering the room behind her and nodded. "John."

Michele pulled away, masking a grimace.

John came to a stop next to his friend, taking a moment to straighten his tie. "Your brother has somehow convinced my wife she needs another kid." He shook his head. 

Adrian smirked. "Congratulations."

"We'll see." John lowered the volume of his voice. "Have you seen Peter this morning?"

"Yes," Adrian murmured. "He should be here shortly."

Michele pursed her lips. "I just hope he doesn't take up all of our time with his talking."

Adrian raised a brow, but before he could respond, John voiced his agreement. "It will go better for us if we can get him to let you run this thing."

Michele nodded. "Precisely."

Adrian shook his head. "If Peter feels more comfortable taking control, then that's what will happen." 

The man in question made his appearance, and Adrian excused himself before moving to greet him.

John lowered his voice yet again, to where only Michele could hear. "He isn't confident in his own abilities." 

"No," she whispered.

"He keeps deferring to Peter because he thinks it will help him garner more approval with the board, but..." John shrugged.

"But what he needs to realize is that they aren't interested in Peter. They want to hear from Adrian." She concluded for him. 

John nodded. "Clayborn asked to meet with him specifically. If he spends the next hour deferring to Peter, I worry he'll lose interest."

As they shared a glance, Jared Clayborn and his team began making their entrances. Michele crossed her fingers. 

This is all on you, A.

...

Author's Note

Thank you to everyone who has been reading the story! And a special thank you to those who sent messages asking for updates. 

Writer's block is a strong force to be reckoned with. I'm very glad to be back at it with KBN, and I do believe I see where our story may go.

Until then, I hope you enjoy this latest part of the story.

I hope you have a great day, and I hope to publish the next part very soon.

If you like the story, please consider voting for this part. I'm so thankful each time I see that readers are engaging with the story.

Til next time!