Never Bargain with the Boss (Never Say Never Book 5)
Never Bargain with the Boss: Chapter 23

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Janey asks, her eyes bouncing from me to the video image of Emmett on her phone.

I hold up my phone, showing that I also have the monitor app open. Emmett is sleeping peacefully in his crib, his sweet lips pursed and eyes closed. “It’s fine. He’ll be fine. I promise. Go have fun.”

“If you get nervous, we can look at the cameras too,” Cole tells her, standing at her side like a sentinel.

It took some time to get used to it, but the camera-filled house doesn’t bother me now. Well, it took time and a solid reassurance that there’s no video feed from the guest bathroom, because that would a step too fucking far. But now, the fully automated and monitored home makes me feel safer, like if anything went down, Cole and Janey would instantly know.

Not that I expect anything to happen.

Emmett’s going to nap while Grace and I watch the latest episode of Alchemy of Souls, the K-drama she’s gotten me addicted to, and when Emmett wakes, I’ll feed him a bottle and we’ll have some play time on the floor. He’s rolling over and sitting up, though we keep a boundary of pillows around him in case he falls over, but that’s happening less and less.

This isn’t the first time Janey has left Emmett alone. It’s not even the first time she’s left him alone with me. But this isn’t a quick outing to Target or a stop at Starbucks. The luncheon at the Ivy Care Center will be a several-hour affair, as Janey has loads of catching up and picture sharing to do while Cole plays what’s apparently an important game of chess with one of the residents.

“Okay, I’m just gonna miss him,” Janey whispers.

“Didn’t he poop on you like a week ago?” Grace wonders aloud. She’s stretched out on the couch, staring at her phone. I’m pretty sure she’s texting with Liam. “And you had to wash him in the sink while his poop ran all down your leg? And it was like an hour before Riley got here and you could take a decontamination shower?”

That’s not exactly how it went down. Janey’s a great mom and an even better multi-tasker. She could’ve easily hopped in the shower with Emmett and cleaned them both up, but she’d also had a cake in the oven and hadn’t wanted it to burn while she was getting them cleaned up, especially given she’s not an experienced baker. The actual playout was a bit more like… sink bath for Emmett, a good handwashing, cake done, and then she was ready to shower when I arrived for my already pre-arranged babysitting gig.

But Grace is poking at the not-so-glamorous moments of parenting, reminding Janey that it’s not always all it’s cracked up to be.

Cole snorts, fighting hard and nearly losing his battle to contain his laughter. If anyone can cause him to not take his wife’s side, it’s his niece.

Thankfully, Janey has no such desire and laughs outright. “Yeah, little bugger got me good. And it was green because we started him on avocado the day before.”

“Ready?” Cole asks her, holding out her coat. She sighs and slips her arms in, letting Cole button a few at her chest before taking her hand.

“We’ll be back in a few hours. Call or text or send out a smoke signal if you need anything.” She waves her arms at the camera to demonstrate.

“I will,” I promise, nodding.

Cole and Janey walk out the front door, and I lock the multiple deadbolts behind them and set the alarm the way Cole taught me. As I do, I’m glad I didn’t ask him if he’s checked on Austin and the kids recently. It was on the tip of my tongue, nearly flying out, but I swallowed it down. There’s no need to panic. No need to send everything into a death spiral when it’s going so well otherwise.

I can handle Austin.

Can I? The whole reason I’m here is because I called Cole for help in the first place.

That’s true, but all I needed Cole to do was check on the kids placed in Austin’s care. That’s all I asked for, and the rest fell into place the way life does. So Austin doing one of his pop-up appearances really isn’t that bad in the big scheme of things, just another typical Austin manipulation power play.

One I refuse to give another moment’s thought when he’s probably already back home with Beth.

Okay, so denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, but focusing on the good has served me well and I intend to keep doing it.

I stop at the back of the couch, waiting for Grace to look up. When she pulls her eyes from the screen, I grin and hold my hand out for a fist bump. “Well played with Janey, Gracie girl. Well played.”

Smart girl pushed all the right buttons, turning Janey from a weepy mom into a ‘taking advantage of the rare and precious time away’ mom. Grace beams and then sits up on the couch to make room for me. “Episode ten?”

With a nod, I plop down beside her and set my phone up so I can watch Emmett and the television at the same time.

And that’s how we stay for the next hour, both of us engrossed in the show, only getting up when Emmett starts moving on the monitor feed. In the nursery, I pick him up as I tell him what a good sleeper he is, which he seems to agree with, kicking and cooing back at me in a great mood. After a quick diaper change, I make him a bottle, and when I come back into the living room, I find that Grace has set up the play area in the middle of the floor, with all the pillows perfectly arranged.

“Thank you. Let me feed him and then we’ll play,” I tell her, sitting back down on the couch. Emmett is rooting around, snuffling and smacking as he tries to swallow as much milk as possible in each gulp. Apparently, he’s starving, even though it’s only been a couple of hours since his last meal. I smile, knowing Janey’s gonna get teary again when she realizes her sweet boy is hitting another growth spurt.

“He looks like Janey, right?” Grace says, her finger running over his little baby feet. He kicked his socks off inside his blanket sleeper, and his long toes curl up against the slight tickle. “Like his hair.”

I nod, my gaze on his hair, which is indeed bright red like his mother’s.

“She’s a good mom.” Grace says it oh-so-casually, but she’s got nearly as much mother trauma as I do, so I hear the warning bells loudly sounding out an alarm.

This is one of the moments when she sees not only what she’s missing, but what she had… what she lost… because, by all reports, Michelle was a fantastic mother to Grace.

“She is,” I agree. “Janey takes great care of him, the physical stuff like making sure he’s fed and clean. But also, she’s really good at the mental and emotional stuff too, like playing with him and making sure he feels loved. He’s a lucky boy, and she’s a fortunate mom.”

“Do you think you’ll have kids? Like Emmett, except one that looks like you.”

“With pink hair?” I joke lightly, and she cracks a tiny smile. More seriously, I say, “I don’t know if I’ll ever have kids. I’ve been so busy helping other families raise their children that I don’t think I’ve ever thought about having one of my own.”

That’s a lie. It wouldn’t have been not too long ago, but today, right now… I feel like I already have a family. Cameron and Grace. But, as much as I’d like it to be, it’s not my place to have that conversation with her. Not yet, anyway.

“Yeah, you’d have to date first?” she teases, reminding me that I told her I don’t date at all.

“I guess,” I say hesitantly. I feel like I’m getting baby-stepped to something and I’m treading carefully, trying to see where Grace is going with this.

Does she already suspect something with me and Cameron? Or is she trying to set me up with Miller again?

“And probably get married too.”

“Probably,” I agree.

“And then you could have kids.” She nods like that’s the obvious path my life could take. “You’d be a great mom.”

My heart leaps into my throat, and tears spring to my eyes at the deeply impactful compliment. “Thank you,” I whisper.

Grace drops her eyes, her gaze locked on Emmett’s toes as she whispers, “I wish I had a mom like you.”

“Oh, Grace, come here.” I gather her into my one free arm, needing to hug her. Emmett’s not too happy that his milk guzzling is being disturbed, grumbling and wiggling as he gets a little smooshed into our embrace and he loses the bottle’s nipple, but that’s okay. This moment is important. “That means more to me than you could possibly know.”

I don’t let go until she does, and when she pulls back, her smile looks a little frayed around the edges. “Don’t tell Dad I said that, okay? I think he’d get mad because of my mom.”

Okay, having been where Grace is in a lot of ways, pieces start to click together for me.

“Are you missing your mom?” I guess. Her eyes drop. “It’s okay. We can talk about her if you want. I hear she was an amazing woman.” Her gaze flies back up to mine in shock, and I give her a small nod of encouragement. “Cameron talks about her. You can too.”

She shrugs, her tiny shoulder lifting up to her ear. “He doesn’t talk about her with me.”

“Grief isn’t the same for everyone,” I tell her with a sigh. “Who your mom was to Cameron is very different from who she was to you, so the hurt from her death is different too. He loved her very much. Still loves her,” I correct.

Grace’s eyes go glassy. “Do you think he’s happy? Or is he still sad about Mom?”

“Wow,” I whisper, thinking. “That’s a big question and you’d have to ask him, but I think both?” The idea of every emotion coexisting in a single moment, much less in a single person, is a complex one, but Grace is a smart girl and I think she can understand it. Or at least begin to. “He can be sad and miss her on some deep level and still be happy too. I know without a doubt that you make him happy.”

She goes quiet for a moment, looking pensive, and I push a bit. “What about you? Are you sad about your mom?”

A single tear tracks down her face and she sniffles. “I think I’m supposed to be sad. But I don’t really remember her, you know? I have a picture of us. I’m little…” She looks at Emmett, who’s finished his bottle, and I set him up on my knee, patting his back. “I was standing up, so maybe a little older than Emmett?” she guesses. “And Mom’s smiling so big, like she was really happy. I should remember that, right?”

Her eyes implore me to agree with her, but I think she knows there’s no way a baby would have that memory. So I kiss her forehead and remind her, “Babies don’t create memories like you and I do now. It’s not snapshots, like a picture in your head.” I tap my head. “Their memories are feelings—like safety and security, love and trusting that their needs will be met. And you have those memories.” I place a hand over my heart. “From your mom and your dad, because both of them loved and love you so much.”

“Do you remember your mom?” she blurts out.

There’s a pinch in my heart and a frog in my throat, but I nod, being honest. “I was older than you were when my mom died, and she was sick for a while before that. She knew she didn’t have long and spent a lot of time trying to put all these vivid images in my head so I’d have them after she was gone. So yeah, I remember things about her, like she always put rainbow sprinkles on my ice cream but chocolate ones on hers, but even still, what I remember most is an overwhelming sense of love.”

“That makes sense,” she says, sounding way more mature than her young years. But in the same way my life has aged me, forcing me to mature faster than others sometimes, Grace has done that too, living an experience well beyond her years. “I just wish I had a mom sometimes, you know? Like I wonder what it would be like if she were still here. I mean, not that you’re not great!”

I laugh. “It’s okay, Grace. I’m not your mom. No one will ever be her. But I’m very glad to have some little part in helping you become who you’re going to be. Because I think you’re going to be amazing.” I grin as I lean her way and whisper, “I kinda think you already are.”

A soft smile slowly blooms on her lips. “Thank you. I think you’re amazing too.”

“And it’s okay to wonder what life would’ve been like if your mom were still alive. But don’t get too stuck in what-ifs… maybe it’d be a picture-perfect life like you wish it’d be… or maybe any of a million other things could’ve happened between then and now. There’s no way to know.”

“So just stick to the what-is?” she asks. “Even if reality sucks sometimes?”

“Yeah,” I admit sadly. “Sometimes, bad things happen. But they don’t define us. They don’t make us stronger, or better, or any other cliché thing. They just… happen.” It’s a cold, hard truth of life I think she can relate to more than most children her age. “And sometimes, the bad things put us on an entirely different path than we ever thought we’d be on. That’s not good or bad, it’s just… different, and that’s okay too.”

Emmett burps loudly, and we both giggle. Letting Grace think about what I’ve said, I move to the floor, getting the baby set up with toys all around him. After a minute, Grace sits down beside me too, her back against the couch.

“I think this different is good… now that you’re here,” she informs me.

“I think it’s good too,” I reply, astounded by her maturity and smarts and big, big heart. “Now that I’m with you and your dad.”

Austin had better look out. He’s run me off jobs before. But without my even realizing it, I’ve been slowly getting stronger over the years, less and less susceptible to his manipulations, and now, I’m done with him. This time, I’m digging my heels in, putting in some deep roots, and I will go to war to keep this family. Cameron, who says he wants more with me, and Grace, who seems open to my being a part of their family in some way.

I’m sure Austin thinks I’ll run the way I always have. But that’s not happening.

And if push comes to shove, I will destroy Austin if that’s what it takes for me to finally be happy.