The Billion Dollar Sitter (16 page)

"Yes," I said, rocking my child gently in my arms. "I need to get away. Far far away. I'll look after her myself for a year or so. Then go to college like I wanted to. Pursue my dreams." Dreams. I was supposed to be excited by them. Like they are all that matters in the world. This seemed like settling for my backup plan. I wanted to be a Kindergarten teacher for years. I loved children. Loved working with them. My grades weren't the greatest, so I couldn't get any scholarships. I couldn't even get a loan worth a damn with how awful my mother's credit history was.

I also paid off all of my mother's debts. Still didn't really make a dent in Tyson's millions. I now had more money than I really had any idea how to actually spend.

No one wants to become a kindergarten teacher because they have dollar signs in their eyes, though. So I figured, even with my crap grades, I could study hard, pay for my degree in full, and work with all the young kids I ever wanted. I already had a nice condo paid for, a first class plane ticket, and everything was all squirreled away and ready. I didn't fully understand why I wanted to go fully across the country. I mean, I loved my mother, and I'd be leaving her behind.

I had to get away. Maybe a whole new world would take my focus off the reality that I couldn't get what I really wanted. Anything to take my mind off of that. What had became my true dream in the past year. Ever since I signed that - that -
that fucking contract.

Mom took Marissa out of my arms. "Oh, but you're separating me from my sweet, wonderful granddaughter. I'm just going to have to get my fill of her before you take off, then." She smiled at my daughter, making kissy baby noises. "Oh, you made a little mess, didn't you?"

"I'll get it, Mom," I sighed, reaching to take my child from her.

"No, no. You'll have plenty of diapers to change when you take off. For now, I'll take care of it."

I smiled softly. "Thanks."

I took the opportunity to return to my room. I wanted to forget him. Find love with a man who wasn't twice my age. I wanted that, but what I wanted more was to remember the memories of our time together. I yearned for another dream of him. I faceplanted on to the bed and quickly fell back asleep.

Four weeks earlier...

Marissa struggled against me. Girl had some fight in her - even at two months. I held her against my chest. "Oh, Ty, no, don't get into that." The 17 month old who wasn't in my arm had gotten more difficult to deal with. So he was growing up, as expected. I was prepared for this.

I pulled him away from the fridge where his formula used to be kept. There was still things in there, things I rather not be strewn around all over the floor in his endless toddler curiosity.

I was more than prepared for this. I'd dealt with my fair share of toddlers in my teenage neighborhood babysitter years. Little balls of energy, bouncing off the walls, and then would suddenly tire out for a nap. Then they'd wake up, and do it again. They repeated the process until they ceased being toddlers.

What I wasn't prepared for was him gaining a voice. "Mama." He hugged my calve in spite of my command for him to not do something. Maybe he was learning how to butter people up already. His father was a natural at it, so perhaps it's in the genes?

Mama. It wasn't the first time I heard those words. It still took me off guard. I wasn't his mother, or even his stepmother. I wasn't married to Tyson. I wasn't engaged. He hadn't moved me beyond calling me anything beyond the mother of his child. For all intents and purposes, I wasn't Ty's mommy. I was just his babysitter.

I found myself explaining that I was only a babysitter to him. He was a year and a half old. He wasn't going to understand that. I'm the woman who has been taking care of him. To him? I'm mommy. It didn't matter that my contract was coming to an end. That I may soon abandon him. God, I felt terrible. How was Tyson going to explain it? Marci was leaving him, and not coming back. Leaving him and his new sister.

I hugged my daughter tighter. She was mine. Even then, though, I found I cared for young Ty. I wished I would become his mother. It was what I sought most. I couldn't stay, though. I couldn't do this again without love.

"Miss Sky, sorry I'm late." Jill entered the nursery behind me. My technical title was still caretaker of Ty. Given my condition and recovery efforts, Tyson saw fit to assign me an assistant.

"Oh, don't worry. I love being with the kids. It's actually my job, you know."

"But Mr. Knight ordered me to take more of the burden."

"Mr. Knight isn't in charge of the kids." I said through my teeth, handing my daughter to her. I trusted Jill implicitly. She was a good nanny in her own right. She had actual training even, more years of experience than I did. I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get testy with you."

"Think nothing of it. Being a new mother is stressful."

"Thank you for understanding." I took a deep breath and stepped out of the room. Past the door, I closed it behind me. Little time passed before his hands wrapped around my waist. My hands covered his.

"Marci. The time we have waited for has come. The doctors have delivered me the news. You're ready again." Tyson. His words rung through my ears with his usual authority. My eyes closed.

His hands went up to my breasts. Tight, tender, they responded so well to him. His breath seething past my cheeks.

"I've waited so long for this, Marci. Eleven long months. I have hopes that you have been anticipating this as much as I have."

Those wonderful hands traveled down my body, over the fabric of my dress. He hiked up my dress, his hand going over the fabric of my panties. I did anticipate this as much as he did. I felt the chub of his cock press against my ass. My pussy soaked for him. I wanted him inside me so much. I wanted to feel the surge of his sperm again.

It hurt so much to grab his hand over my sex, and pull at it. "No. Not now, Tyson."

"Huh? What's wrong, Marci?" I turned in his arms, and his hands rested on my bare shoulders.

I swallowed. I didn't dare bring it up. It was a subject I would have preferred to forget, and would have preferred to imagine didn't exist. If it didn't exist, I could just pretend I was his wife, even if I wasn't. I wanted it to be real, though. I was never going to get truth from him unless I gambled for it. "The contract, Tyson. It ends tomorrow." My voice was strained, exhausted, defeated. I'd tried so many times before to get an answer.

"And? One of the clauses was that if we were both pleased with the terms, we may renew it at will. I have little reason to believe that you don't wish to renew."

A deep breath. This is what I feared he would say. He was fine with things as they were, and wanted to maintain the status quo. "I - I don't want to renew those terms."

His mouth draped open. "Excuse me?"

"I don't want to be under your service for another year. I don't want to be an employee - I don't want to have another child for you just because some piece of paper says I have to."

"Marci, what's bothering you?"

"You, Tyson. What am I to you? What the hell am I? I'm not just your babysitter. You don't knock up your babysitter. Your babysitter doesn't get called mommy by your son." I wasn't crying. I just wanted to get it out. There'd be times for tears later. When he told me off.

I had flustered him, the unflusterable Tyson Knight. "Marci, I'm telling you, you're the mother of my children. That's what you are. I had thought you enjoyed such a title."

"I did. I really did. I have a beautiful daughter. I hate that I might have to give her up because of some stupid piece of paper. But I don't want to be that to you, Tyson. I want it to be me and you. What's it between me and you? What am I? What am I? I want to know. I wanted a family. But part of that dream was a man who loved me. I can't tell if you truly do, because you won't tell me."

More than anything in the world, that's all I wanted. His actions told me that he probably loved me. The way he touched me, he hugged me, the way he treated me, the way he looked at me. Just everything. Why was telling me the simple words so hard? I've had boys in high school declare they love me to try to get a date out of me. Why couldn't he just tell me?

"Marci, I, uh," He searched his head. "I - I -"

Was he going to say it? He continued to stutter. I continued to speak. "What am I? A girlfriend? A future wife? Or you can't tell me because all I am is a womb for hire? A breeder? A convenient mistress?" It stung me to say the next thing. "A convenient whore?"

"Of course not, I -"

"I don't want to be those, Tyson. I agreed to come here in the first place because my fantasies painted me as your princess to your prince. I was overwhelmed with joy, because I thought it was true that I could have you. Through your grief, through everything."

He breathed heavily, trying to calm his nerves. I had thrown him off his guard.

I kept swinging. "Just tell me those words. It's all I want. All I want is 'I love you, Marci'." Just say them. Please. I can't stay if you can't manage that. I have too much doubt. I don't want to leave my daughter. I don't want to leave your son. Please. Say them. I want you to fuck me right here. Fill me with your seed again. Let us get work on having another child. But not if you can't say it. If you can't say it, the only way your getting that is if you hold me down and force me."

"Marci, I'd nev - " he interjected, offended by the accusation.

"I know you wouldn't!" I wasn't going to let him speak if they weren't the words I sought. I didn't want him to evade my request, like he had so many times before. "You're a wonderful man. I can go on for hours about everything I've seen in the past year. Who called in a helicopter at his own expense because one of his maids collapsed from exhaustion? You did. You made me the worst Christmas dinner ever, personally, because you didn't want to force any of your staff to be away from their family for the holidays. You even stayed and helped at a soup kitchen even after the cameras stopped rolling. I can't begin to list why you're so awesome. You wouldn't harm a hair on an innocent's head."

He frowned. "Marci. I can't, I cannot."

"I love you. I can say it. I love Tyson Knight. I want to spend the rest of my life with him." I was screaming it at him. "Just say it back. I want to believe you feel the same. I can't just be ninety-nine percent sure anymore. I have to know. Just tell me. Please. Please, Tyson. I love you. Just that, please."

I joined him in controlled breathing to calm ourselves down. Silence followed.

He kept trying to open his mouth. I waited patiently.

He eventually walked past me, without another word said.

I walked the other way. To my room. I found my old suitcase. The one I had shown up to his mansion with a year ago. Worn down, beaten. I started filling it with things that were worth a thousand times more than it. Three things in, nowhere near finished, I fell on to the bed, and sobbed myself to sleep.

***

I pushed myself up off of my tear soaked pillow. I was going to miss this bed and its comforts. The clock read that it was the wee hours of the morning. I wasn't tired enough to roll over and fall asleep again. I was leaving tomorrow, and I had to say good bye to the mansion, so I figured I may as well take my farewell tour.

I strolled by the nursery. I'd be able to stay goodbye to them when they were awake. For now though, I ran my hands through Marissa's newborn hair, and Ty's bushy head of hair. I'd been taking care of him since before he could even walk. Of course he thought of me as his mother. I'd be abandoning like him real one did. Except worse - I was doing it by choice. I couldn't just accept a wonderful life in a rich man's paradise. I had to have more.
Love
. Ugh, I was disgusted with myself.

The mansion was eerily silent, almost alien compared to the bustle of servants and maids through the place in the daytime. Even the slightest sound caught my attention. I followed one such sound. It brought me to the outside of the master bedroom.  A phone call's recording was playing.

That wasn't surprising to me. Every phone call here is recorded. Tyson's lawyers are ridiculously litigious and effective. Their suggestion was to have all calls recorded and stored in case of a lawsuit. This included personal calls.

"Deal's closed, Tyson. Gotta keep calling me back into duty to save the company’s ass, don't you?" the voice. Familiar, it took me a moment to put a face to it.

"Sometimes you need to send the best to get things done, Margaret." The other recorded voice was far more familiar. Tyson's. It was a phone call between Tyson and his late wife, Margaret. I remembered it from an old movie Tyson showed me a few months ago. That's where I heard it before.

"Short notice trips, though. Such a pain. Seriously, Ross couldn't manage the Tokyo arrangement? Trim the fat, Tyson."

"As soon as I can replace him. You don't count. I need you here, my love. I certainly can't have you over the phone. Talking dirty doesn't really do it for me."