GoTo Girl Read online

  "Well, I'm done looking after him!" she snaps. "I told you I quit."

  She picks up her luggage defiantly as Henry and I exchange another look. "You can't quit," I say. "Because we just fired you."

  * * *

  It's only after the nanny is gone that I realize what I've done. The next morning is chaos.

  "Yay! I get to go to work with you!" Henry cheers as he throws his new soccer ball up against the interior of the car.

  "Hey, knock it off!" I hiss. I try and reach for the ball without swerving the car. Maybe I should have called in a driver today. My older brothers call me crazy for driving in the city, but I love the feel of the sleek speed machine I own. What's the point of being a billionaire and buying yourself a garage full of expensive cars if you don't take the time to drive them yourself?

  Henry is a sensation from almost the moment we arrive. As I tug him along after me through the lobby of Sway International, it seems that every woman we pass stops in her tracks and coos at how adorable my son is. "They're starting to sound like a flock of pigeons," I mutter as I press the elevator button. I turn back to assess my son. "You're a lady killer, bud."

  "I am?" Henry replies stiffly as we get in. "That's what Mom always said about you."

  "Yeah? I guess you take after your old man, then."

  Henry bounces his ball as the elevator takes us up and says nothing in reply. I study his reflection in the sealed doors to try to get an idea of what the little guy is thinking, but his chin is tucked, and he's focused solely on his ball. A part of me wants to wrench the ball away from him, hit the emergency button and stall us mid-ascent, and demand that he look at me and talk to me.

  There's so much I want from him, but I'm sure it absolutely pales compared to what he wants, no, needs from me. I don't know what I'm doing. As his father, I want to give him everything—the world. Yet, here I am dragging him to work with me. What am I doing? What am I going to do with him once we get up to my office? I run a hand down my face as I consider this. It is a busy week for Sway. We're in the middle of tying up a big deal with a potential partner Owen Ridgemont brought to us from the West Coast, and Owen himself is tied up with plans for his wedding.

  "Okay, that's enough," I say abruptly. I reach out with my left hand and seize Henry's soccer ball on its downward trajectory. I immediately feel guilty for losing my patience.

  My son blinks at me, awed, probably by the simple fact that I can palm the whole ball with my hand. It's better than the reaction I might have expected, which was tears.

  Do better, I chastise myself. I really have no business being around children.

  I guide us both into my office, glancing around all the while for Valerie. Where is my secretary? I need someone to run interference here. Preferably someone with child care experience. I have no idea what relevant knowledge she might have in the realm of child-rearing, but that seems almost beside the point. What I need is the woman I trust most, the woman who is paid to put up with me and my family and heed my every beck and call. Okay, she would kill me for thinking that, but she really does fit the description. What I need is Valerie.

  And she's nowhere to be found.

  "Probably chatting it up in the break room with the other assistants," I mutter mutinously as I close the two of us inside my office. Almost all anyone can talk about these days is Owen and Amanda's wedding. Actually, I've heard Valerie say surprisingly little on the subject herself. She's in the secretarial pool, and those girls are thick as thieves as far as I'm aware. I'm sure she must have gotten an invitation.

  Not that I've thought overmuch about it. But, the tropical wedding won't be a total drag if my stern, serious little secretary is there to bug.

  "No more ball," I instruct Henry. I take it with me behind my desk, pop open the bottom drawer, and deposit it. Henry flops onto the couch and manages to look absolutely miserable. Five minutes pass without him saying a thing. I stare at my laptop, massage my temples, and try in vain to not let his silence press on me. "Do you want to take a nap or something?" I suggest.

  "I just woke up!" he exclaims. "It's nine o'clock in the morning!"

  I check the time on my computer. He's right. I leap out of my chair and throw the door open. Valerie glances up from her desk, startled, and drops her pen. "Mr. Sway?" she asks me. "What's wrong?"

  "Valerie. There you are. You're late."

  "I'm not late," she replies. "I'm exactly on time, and I even brought you a coffee."

  "Well… thank you." I accept the coffee begrudgingly, knowing she's already mixed it exactly how I like it.

  "I was late yesterday," she corrects me. "It was planned, and I mentioned as much in advance."

  "I didn't notice."

  "You never notice when I come and go. Which is why you're sudden attentiveness to my schedule has got me curious this morning." Her sideways smile pushes up one cheekbone, and her glasses lift a little. I'm momentarily at a loss of what to say as Henry comes around the side of me.

  My son points, suddenly. "There she is, Dad! That's her! The pretty lady who saved me!" His voice takes on a tone of awe. "Wonder Woman."

  Chapter Three

  Valerie

  I stare, uncomprehending, at the little boy pointing at me from the doorway of Daniel's office.

  Of course I recognize him. How can I not? He's the little boy from the park, the one who ran out into the street after his ball and almost got himself killed. No, scratch that—the woman responsible for looking after him almost got him killed. I know I should be more understanding of someone's split-second mistake, but it's hard to look back favorably on the woman when I recall seeing her glued to her phone.

  For instance, where is she now? Why isn't she interceding here? And why is that cute, chubby little finger still pointed at me like I'm some amazingly interesting insect specimen being observed beneath a magnifying glass?

  "Er, hello again." I'm not usually awkward around children, but I never expected to encounter one in the Sway building. And, I certainly didn't expect to see the boy from this morning emerge from my boss's office. I straighten my posture and adjust my glasses.

  I smile at the sweet-faced, excited little guy, then look up at my boss. It sounds absurd, but Daniel is staring at me like we've never met before today.

  "It's you! I knew it was you!" The little boy launches himself at me and hugs my knees. I wince, not because I object to a hug, but because my legs are still banged-up and scraped from diving with him out of harm's way.

  "Yep. It's me. My name's Valerie." I reach down and ruffle his hair. I can't resist. Such a haystack just begs to be messed with. Come to think of it, where have I seen hair like that before...?

  "Valerie is the woman who saved you, Henry?" Daniel moves closer to us, and I glance up sharply.

  No. No, it can't be.

  But, when the little boy, Henry, pulls away from hugging me, I can see the resemblance all too clearly. Same rowdy hair, tanned complexion, intelligent gray eyes, although the boy is more somber-looking and seems more serious than the adult.

  "Mr. Sway, are the two of you related?" I feel like an idiot for asking when the resemblance is so clearly apparent, but I also feel as if I don't have a choice. This boy can't be Daniel's son. No way. Daniel doesn't have a son, at least, not one that I know about. And, as his secretary, that's something I would know about. Right?

  "This is Henry." Daniel draws the boy in against his side. It doesn't escape my notice that the boy looks awkward and uncomfortable, like he's more used to giving hugs to complete strangers than he is to receiving one from his adult doppelgänger. "Henry is my son," he concludes, shattering all that I thought I knew about my boss.

  Evidently, this is not something his secretary should expect to know about.

  "Are you okay, Val? Do you need to sit down?" Daniel's eyebrows knit together in concern, and I realize I'm bracing myself with one hand against my desk. "You didn't hurt yourself when you rescued Henry, did you?"

  "No, no, I…" I l
augh a little in disbelief and shake my head, but drop down into my chair anyway. It's as if the adrenaline from yesterday has only just now left my body.

  Daniel turns to the boy stiffly, then drops down to one knee. It was too long a pause to be his first instinct. "Henry, do you mind going into my office for a minute while I talk to Val... Miss Brown?"

  "I want to talk to her, too!" The boy fidgets, and his screwed-up mouth and shaky bottom lip seems to threaten tears.

  "I'll tell you what," I quickly grab for the first thing within reach on my desk, which just so happens to be a new packet of colored highlighters from office supply. I know very well that they'll see good usage in the hands of an industrious kid. I pass them to him with a blank sheet of paper, smiling. "How about you draw something for me while you wait? It won't be long, promise."

  The boy stares at his father. Daniel stares back at him. I wonder if he'd rather have a tablet or something with a screen to mess around on, but I'm fresh out. He surprises me by accepting the piece of paper and going into the other room, shutting the door behind him.

  "Phew!" Daniel collapses against my desk, half-sitting on its surface the exact way he's done time and time again just to annoy me. After the first few times I shooed him off, it became a game to him. I purposely ignore the move, pretending it doesn't bother me at all. "Well done, Val! Wow, you are great with kids!"

  "I can't believe you have a son and you never said a word to me," I mutter. I want to busy myself organizing the contents of my desk, but I can't with Daniel Sway perched there, right in the way. I tuck my nervous hands into my lap and look up at him pointedly. "Well?" I say, when his admiring stare becomes a little too uncomfortable.

  "Henry." Daniel says his son's name again, then sighs. "Henry the Hellion."

  "Is he really that bad? He seems like a sweet kid."

  "Apparently, that's what his last nanny called him. Makes me think she had other names for him that she never said in front of him."

  I frown. "What? That's rotten. He's just a kid. And his nanny..."

  "Oh, she's gone now." Daniel waves a hand as if he could dismiss the memory of her as easily as he dismissed the woman herself. "Long gone. I fired her the minute I heard about what happened at the park."

  "She told you?" I ask skeptically.

  "Henry told me first, and then I got a modified and censored account from her. I fit most of the pieces together myself. Henry's story seemed more believable, but I wasn't sure about the mystery Wonder Woman who rescued him until..."

  Daniel's looking at me again in that way I can't account for. It's like he has only ever seen me as an office accessory up until this instant, and I've only just now become aware of it. My face heats, and I stare hard at my purse tucked beneath my desk. I sort of wish he'd go back to considering me as unremarkable as the rest of the furniture. I'm not sure what to do with any other type of attention from him.

  "Were you hurt?" Daniel asks me seriously. "I can't imagine you weren't. You know the employee health plan is top-notch, right?"

  "Why do you think I came to work for you in the first place?" I purr. Deflecting puts me back in my element again. Surprise kid or no surprise kid, I know how to deal with Daniel Sway. It's why I've lasted so long were the secretaries before me failed. I reach for my keyboard to start working again, and Daniel finally slips off my desk.

  "You didn't answer my question," he notices.

  "I'm fine," I tell him. "A few scrapes, a couple bruises. Nothing I can't handle."

  "My son owes you his life," Daniel says quietly. "And I owe you everything. So, what can I do to show my gratitude? What do you want? A raise?"

  I sit back violently. "Huh?" The question comes out sharp. In truth, I'm glad my knee jerk response is to feel offended. I could definitely do with a raise, but not for saving a child. As though I'd had a choice. I shudder to think about the consequences if I had not dived in front of that bus. "No! I don't want anything like that! I had no idea he was your son. I didn't even know you had a son." I wave my hand in the air dismissively.

  Daniel takes advantage and seizes my hand in its unguarded moment. I want to pull away, but I know my boss. He's obstinate, and he's never been the type to give a second thought to boundaries. He draws himself close, tucking his chin to get a good look at the bandage I've haphazardly pasted over the heel of my hand. "Ouch. Road rash," he mutters. "Not as bad as the time I got it falling off my Harley, but it's no joke. Must have hurt like hell."

  "Language." My eyes flicker to his office door, but Henry is nowhere in sight. "And I happen to know you've fallen off your Harley more than once, Mr. Sway."

  Daniel laughs. He's never fazed by anything I say to him, for better or worse. Truth be told, he seems unfazed by the entire world at large. It would be maddening if it wasn't so completely admirable. As a woman with a lot on her plate and worries to spare, I sometimes think doing things the "Daniel Sway way" is something to aspire toward.

  A sparkle of humor glints in his eye. "Is that why you don't let me take you for a ride?"

  "It would be inappropriate," I say wryly.

  "Would it?" He holds my hand a minute longer. I dutifully school my expression. If he's trying to gauge the effect he has on me, I'm not giving anything away. I'm aware of it when he flirts with me, and even more acutely aware that he only does it when he's feeling bored. There are plenty of women in his social circle susceptible to the Daniel Sway charm. I'm neither susceptible it, nor am I in his social circle.

  Daniel drops my hand, but resumes leaning against my desk. "All right. No Harley. I'd say the Lambo is more appropriate anyway."

  "For what?" I ask suspiciously. "And when is a Lamborghini ever appropriate?"

  "For taking you to dinner," Daniel says. "To answer both of your questions."

  I stare at him, bewildered, unable to decide if he's still messing with me. He shifts gears faster and with more subtlety than his Lamborghini. "W-why would you take me to dinner?" I ask him.

  Daniel laughs abruptly. Even though by the tone of it, I can tell he's laughing at my expense, it's a pure sound. Is it weird that feel a small victory at the fact that I'm the only person I know who can make him laugh like that? "To repay you, Val! You saved my son's life. If you think I'm just going to let that slide without some token of my appreciation, you don't know me as well as you like to think you do!"

  I narrow my eyes. "Oh, but I do know you. And, I'd say there's something more." I'm guessing. My suspicions are summoned by the twinkle I see in his eyes. "Isn't there?"

  Daniel places his hand over his heart and says dramatically, "You wound me, Valerie. What other possible motive could I have?" But he smiles like he's proud of me, and I know I'm on the right track. Something's up. Daniel Sway may be the kind of man to repay perceived debts, I won't deny that. But, but he's also right about me knowing him, and my instincts tell me he's up to something.

  The only question is, what could he possibly want from me?

  My curiosity outweighs my good sense. "Just promise me we can take a town car," I say grudgingly as I turn back to my work.

  Daniel barks a laugh. "Where's your sense of adventure?" I cast my eyes to the side and notice the moment looks suddenly thoughtful. "... is what I'd normally say to you. But now, today, I think I've learned something about you. I've gotten to know you a little better, Valerie Brown. You surprise me."

  "You're full of surprises yourself," I retort as his office door opens and Henry peeks his head around the corner.

  "Dad? Am I allowed to give Valerie her picture now?"

  I watch Daniel smile and turn toward his son, proudly. In that moment, there's something so unbearably sweet about noting his response. Dad. I never would have imagined Daniel Sway as a father. It's a mystery I intend to get to the bottom of. At least I can use my desire to learn the full story of Daniel and his son as an excuse for accepting his dinner invitation. As suspicious as I am about the invite, my curiosity is truly piqued.

  Relax, Val, I remin
d myself patiently. And watch out for whatever it is he's got up his sleeve. "It's beautiful. Thank you, Henry," I say as the boy crosses to my desk and hands me the piece of paper and my highlighters back. Daniel places his hand on Henry's shoulder, pulling him into a side-hug, and doesn't appear to notice that the picture his son has given me is of the three of us holding hands and standing near a soccer ball in a busy intersection.

  "You're welcome," Henry grins widely. I smile privately and tuck the piece of paper into my purse.

  "Oh, Val," Daniel says offhand as he heads back to his office. "I forgot to ask. Do you mind keeping an eye on Henry today? He'll be on his best behavior. Won't you, son?"

  "Yeah!" Henry cheers. "We fired that other lady, Dad!"

  "We certainly did!" Daniel agrees. "Be nice to Valerie, Henry. No firing her when I'm not looking. I need her."

  "I won't," Henry agrees.

  "Wait a minute...!" I say, but Daniel disappears inside his office with a happy wave of his hand. Henry turns to me, gray eyes bright, awaiting whatever entertainment I have in store for him.

  I am definitely ordering the most expensive dinner option tonight.

  Chapter Four

  Daniel

  "Who's looking after Henry, tonight?" Valerie asks curiously. We've just arrived at Sashimi Blue, New York City's newest, trendiest (and most expensive) sushi restaurant. By the time I make it around the side of the town car to open Valerie's door for her, she's already gotten out herself.

  I guess I shouldn't be surprised. My secretary has a pretty ferocious independent streak, and she's not exactly subtle about it. It's one of the things I like most about her. I'd never say so out loud. She would never abide such an obviously remark meant to highlight our similarities.