Chapter One
She had no business being here. The hushed elegance of the small café cocooned her yet reminded her of her place with these people, the wealthy elite of Manhattan society. Sitting in their designer clothing, drinking their expensive caffeinated drinks and murmuring among themselves.
Paige Stewart drew her finger along the rim of her stark white coffee cup, contemplating if she should go to the counter and ask for a refill. She had every right to. They were free, after all. The giant chalkboard sign filled with menu items that hung on the wall behind the counter stated so.
But in her mind, it felt like charity, since she had so very little money. Two twenties and a handful of ones sat in her wallet, a scattering of change lined the bottom of her purse.
Clutching her sweater closed, she shivered, glanced about the crowded café. The walls were a dark, espresso-colored paneled wood, the lighting a warm, flattering shade of gold. Outside, the wind shrieked, the rain poured, and she knew the minute she ventured through those doors, the downpour would soak her clothing to the bone.
Reaching for her purse, she pulled out her old, battered cell phone, staring at it. She could call her parents. They would wire money to her so she could get home via Greyhound, no questions asked. They would be relieved to have her home. They’d never agreed with her going to New York City. Thought her big-city dreams were too scary for a naïve, small-town girl. They’d worried she would be crushed, ruined.
They’d been right. Though she wasn’t crushed or ruined, she’d come close. Could still imagine her former boss’s hands on her, his lips pressed to hers, his tongue trying its best to thrust inside her mouth…
Shivering, she dropped the phone back into her purse, her gaze caught on the most adorable dark-haired boy she’d ever seen. He sat at the table next to her with a beautiful older woman, bouncing in his chair, his giant brown eyes imploring the woman, most likely trying to get out of her whatever he could.
“Drink your hot chocolate,” the woman said softly, her voice thick with an unfamiliar accent. “Go on, Matty. Only one more meeting and then we can go home, though she’s late. I bet she won’t show.”
“I want to go home now.” He pouted, and Paige couldn’t help but smile. “I want a cookie!”
The woman shot him a stern look, but it did nothing to intimidate him. Most likely she was his mother or even possibly his grandmother. She was gorgeous.
“I want a cookie! Chocolate chip!” He hopped off his chair and started for the glass display cases at the order counter, his little legs moving fast.
“Oh Matty, no. Come back here.” The woman chased after him, grabbing him around the waist, her fingers digging into his belly, and he burst into uncontrollable giggles. She plopped him back into his chair, waved a red-nailed finger in his face. “Don’t move a muscle, signor. ”
He giggled and blinked. “I moved my eyelashes, Nonna!”
Paige grinned. The obvious love between the two was sweet. Reminded her of why she came to New York in the first place. To be a nanny, to work with children and give them that extra bit of affection they needed when their parents were too busy working. She’d had such a wonderful job with the Leonards, had enjoyed taking care of their three young children.
Until Paul Leonard ruined everything and tried to rape her…
“You have pretty hair.”
Paige startled, turned to find the adorable imp staring up at her, his gaze locked on her curly red hair. “Why thank you,” she said with a faint smile. “You have pretty hair too.”
“Handsome,” he corrected with all the authority a young boy could muster. “Not pretty. Girls are pretty.”
She’d beg to differ but decided starting an argument with him wouldn’t be prudent. And he was terribly pretty, with his gorgeous brown eyes and rich dark brown hair, his cheeks like a cherub’s. “Handsome,
She had no business being here. The hushed elegance of the small café cocooned her yet reminded her of her place with these people, the wealthy elite of Manhattan society. Sitting in their designer clothing, drinking their expensive caffeinated drinks and murmuring among themselves.
Paige Stewart drew her finger along the rim of her stark white coffee cup, contemplating if she should go to the counter and ask for a refill. She had every right to. They were free, after all. The giant chalkboard sign filled with menu items that hung on the wall behind the counter stated so.
But in her mind, it felt like charity, since she had so very little money. Two twenties and a handful of ones sat in her wallet, a scattering of change lined the bottom of her purse.
Clutching her sweater closed, she shivered, glanced about the crowded café. The walls were a dark, espresso-colored paneled wood, the lighting a warm, flattering shade of gold. Outside, the wind shrieked, the rain poured, and she knew the minute she ventured through those doors, the downpour would soak her clothing to the bone.
Reaching for her purse, she pulled out her old, battered cell phone, staring at it. She could call her parents. They would wire money to her so she could get home via Greyhound, no questions asked. They would be relieved to have her home. They’d never agreed with her going to New York City. Thought her big-city dreams were too scary for a naïve, small-town girl. They’d worried she would be crushed, ruined.
They’d been right. Though she wasn’t crushed or ruined, she’d come close. Could still imagine her former boss’s hands on her, his lips pressed to hers, his tongue trying its best to thrust inside her mouth…
Shivering, she dropped the phone back into her purse, her gaze caught on the most adorable dark-haired boy she’d ever seen. He sat at the table next to her with a beautiful older woman, bouncing in his chair, his giant brown eyes imploring the woman, most likely trying to get out of her whatever he could.
“Drink your hot chocolate,” the woman said softly, her voice thick with an unfamiliar accent. “Go on, Matty. Only one more meeting and then we can go home, though she’s late. I bet she won’t show.”
“I want to go home now.” He pouted, and Paige couldn’t help but smile. “I want a cookie!”
The woman shot him a stern look, but it did nothing to intimidate him. Most likely she was his mother or even possibly his grandmother. She was gorgeous.
“I want a cookie! Chocolate chip!” He hopped off his chair and started for the glass display cases at the order counter, his little legs moving fast.
“Oh Matty, no. Come back here.” The woman chased after him, grabbing him around the waist, her fingers digging into his belly, and he burst into uncontrollable giggles. She plopped him back into his chair, waved a red-nailed finger in his face. “Don’t move a muscle, signor. ”
He giggled and blinked. “I moved my eyelashes, Nonna!”
Paige grinned. The obvious love between the two was sweet. Reminded her of why she came to New York in the first place. To be a nanny, to work with children and give them that extra bit of affection they needed when their parents were too busy working. She’d had such a wonderful job with the Leonards, had enjoyed taking care of their three young children.
Until Paul Leonard ruined everything and tried to rape her…
“You have pretty hair.”
Paige startled, turned to find the adorable imp staring up at her, his gaze locked on her curly red hair. “Why thank you,” she said with a faint smile. “You have pretty hair too.”
“Handsome,” he corrected with all the authority a young boy could muster. “Not pretty. Girls are pretty.”
She’d beg to differ but decided starting an argument with him wouldn’t be prudent. And he was terribly pretty, with his gorgeous brown eyes and rich dark brown hair, his cheeks like a cherub’s. “Handsome,
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