“No,” she interrupted.
I furrowed my brows in confusion. “No?”
“I— I mean,” she stuttered, tucking a bit of her hair behind her ears.
“I— want to get it for her myself.”
My eyes narrowed involuntarily. “I'll have the money transferred to y—”
“No.”
I stopped to really stare at her. She continued.
“I just want to get it for her by myself, without your money.”
As I stared at her, it dawned on me.
A gift. She wanted to give Sophie a gift. The first nanny or therapist to do that.
“Okay.”
She gave a curt bow.
“Thank you, sir.”
I watched her hips hurriedly sway as she took her leave.
The door closed, and I brought my fingers to the bridge of my nose.
If I wanted anything meaningful to come out of her stay in the mansion, I had to constantly remind myself of the guilt. I had to put James at the forefront of my mind.
I'd barely had the thought when my phone buzzed. Harsh thumping struck my chest when I glanced at the screen. James.
The next few seconds that followed were the worst seconds of my life.
My mind was a catastrophe. A disaster.
Forcing a greedy amount of air into my lungs, I answered the call.
“Hey, friend. Long time no talk.”
Perfect time to call me a friend.
“James.” I struggled to match his cheery tone.
“Yeah, it has been a while. How have you been?”
“Busy busy. How about you? How's life treating you these days?”
Even though my guilt-filled haze, I recognized a different answer. His response to my greetings was usually fine, not busy.
I also couldn't detect if he'd seen the news or not.
I barked out a chuckle. “The usual. Running the company.”
“Tell you what,” he whispered. I swallowed. “I didn't expect your response to be any different.”
Exhaling a breath, I spoke. “Yours was.”