But Matt couldn’t help but feel that there was so much more to Ari. The questions she asked, her interest in Noah, the way she listened to the bedtime stories, her gaze soft with affection for his child. The fact that she wanted to talk to his son’s teachers and find activities that would enhance his capabilities, to actually learn who Noah was as a person, was not only beyond anything any nanny had ever given—it was beyond what Noah’s own mother had given him.
When she’d told Matt she’d keep his son safe, it felt like a vow.
But it was the moment she’d told him how books had been her lifeline that he couldn’t forget. Her words could have been his own. No one else had ever understood just how much the pages of books transported him. He forgot the neighborhood, his life, the bullies, his dad’s angry words. He was somewhere better. He didn’t know how bad Ari’s childhood had been, but books had obviously done the same thing for her.
“So how are things going with your new nanny?”
Matt started at Sebastian’s question. The Maverick Group’s headquarters were on the twenty-ninth floor of Sebastian’s high-rise in downtown San Francisco, and this was one of the rare occasions when they were all there at the same time. All five Mavericks had their own offices, along with Cal Danniger, their business manager, and Noah Bryant, their lawyer.
“Ari’s great with Noah,” Matt said. “She takes him interesting places, teaches him. I’ve never had a nanny so involved.”
“Sounds like she’s got a lot of energy,” Evan said, leaning against the reception desk, arms folded over his chest. “Isn’t she a lot younger than your previous nannies?”
“She’s definitely full of energy and enthusiasm,” Matt replied.
They were spotlighting him, and he cursed the heat coursing through his body at the mention of her. She was a heck of a lot younger than he was, she’d come out of a difficult past as a foster child—and, most important of all, she was off-limits! He knew he had his head in all the wrong places.
“You’ve got a winner in Ariana.” Daniel sprawled in a leather chair, legs spread, hands on his knees. “Your home has got to be like a breath of fresh air for her.”
Matt was once again reminded of her scent. Which then reminded him of her nightly soak in the tub…and all the images that assailed him when he was just down the hall, unable to get her out of his head.
“She’s special,” Daniel went on. “She always took the new employees under her wing and showed them the ropes.”
“Then why did you let her go?” Will looked up from scrolling through his phone. “Jeremy keeps talking about how pretty she is, by the way. Sounds like he hasn’t forgotten meeting her in San Jose when we were all rebuilding the youth home.”
“Don’t talk about how pretty she is,” Daniel said. “You’ll give this guy”—he hooked a thumb at Matt—“ideas.”
“Ideas are the farthest thing from my mind,” Matt lied, every eye on him. It was a lie he was afraid his closest friends would see through if they looked hard enough. The Mavericks were protectors, and they were all keeping an eye out for Ari. There’d be hell to pay if he screwed up.
“Anyway,” Daniel continued, “having been a foster kid, she appreciates the importance of surrounding children with love and kindness.”
The Mavericks had been raised with Susan and Bob’s love and kindness. But the years before that had shaped them too. When high school came to an end for all of them, they’d made a vow to get out of that filthy Chicago neighborhood, and they’d each done it in their own way.
Will had turned his uncanny sense of what people desired into an importing empire. Sebastian’s sensitivity and charisma brought him worldwide renown as a self-help authority. Evan had his numbers, Matt had his inventions, and Daniel had his home improvement conglomerate.
Each and every one had their demons to battle too. Matt could self-analyze enough to admit that his dad’s cruel words still played a huge role in who he was today.
No son of mine is going to be an effing weenie.
Your friends can’t do all the sticking up for you your whole life, ya puny little weakling.
Buck up, you idiot.
He’d eventually bucked up. But he’d also sworn never to tear his son down the way his own father had tried to demolish him. He’d always controlled himself ruthlessly, never yelled at Noah—never yelled at anyone in front of him either. And he’d vowed to protect his son from anyone who did, whether on a playground or at school. He worried that he wouldn’t be able to step up for his son every single time, like the day that kid had slapped the book out of Noah’s hands…but he pushed those fears out of his head. He would be there for his kid, just the way Susan and Bob had been there for each of the Mavericks.