The Man In The Mirror

She laughed, a warm, beautiful sound.

“I’ll speak to his mother tonight and sort the problem out, but if you have any issues at all call me immediately using the telecom system.”

“One more thing before you go …” she began.

“Yes?”

“There is not much that is interesting for Zackary to do here. He enjoyed playing on the swing and the slide at the playground. Would it be possible to have a swing set, a slide, or a trampoline installed on the grounds for him?”

“Of course. That’s a brilliant idea. Well done. I have no experience with children so feel free to suggest anything else you feel will be useful for my son.”

She hesitated.

“What is it?” I prompted.

“Uh, playing with his father would also be of great help. I don’t know how possible that would be, but your presence sometimes would do him a world of good.”

Her words were like a blow in the gut. There was nothing in the world I would have loved or cherished more, but it was impossible. Not while Zackary was terrified of me. I knew something had to be done, but until Charlotte came into the picture I didn’t know what. I was paralyzed with fear I would make it worse, but I could see a ray of light at the end of the tunnel now and I had already started walking towards it. “Perhaps one day,” I said softly. “I’ll call again tomorrow. Goodnight, Charlotte.”

I pulled out my phone. Jillian was on the line in moments. “Hello, Brett.”

“I need to talk to you. Now,” I said.

She snorted. “Oh, I’m sorry, but this lap dog is not at home now.”

“You better be here before the hour is up or I leave you without a dime to your name.”

I hung up the phone before she could say anything else. Then I opened my desktop computer and got to work assessing the project Logan had just sent through. Just before the hour struck, I heard her heels on the stone floor outside my door. I sat back as she strolled into my study. She was furious, but she smiled coldly.

I didn’t smile back. “Why have you restricted Zackary from playing outside?” I asked.

She threw her purse onto my desk in annoyance. I kept my gaze on her, but ensured I remained calm.

“Since when did you start butting into my parental charge of Zackary?”

I lifted my gaze to hers. “You told me to leave him to you for the time being. You told me you would slowly bring him out of his shell, but if stifling the child is your special method I'm going to have to withdraw that right.”

Her face instantly hardened. “Don’t you dare,” she hurled to me. “I’m not stifling him. You said it yourself, a child needs his mother.”

“Not when she seems to be doing more harm than good.”

She looked at me incredulously. “It seems the nanny has pledged her allegiance to you. Tell me, what did you offer her?”

I frowned. I didn’t want this to be about the nanny. If we carried on this vein the nanny would be gone in no time. “She has not pledged her allegiance to me. She has nothing to do with this. She simply told me you had instructed her not to take Zackary out when I suggested she do so. Was she lying?” I looked at her sternly.

She sighed. “Just back off, Brett. I know what I am doing. You'll do Zackary more harm than good. I’m his mother. I know what’s best for my son. Just stay away,” she said, “and leave him to me for now.”

“Give your permission to the nanny to let our son engage in outdoor activities, otherwise I’ll personally step in.” My voice was pure ice.

She held my gaze boldly until she realized I meant every word. Snatching her purse from the table, she rounded on me. “How long are we going to keep this up?”

“Keep what up?”

She glared at me as though I betrayed her, but we both knew what the truth was. “Are we married?”

“What’s your point?”

“You see me go out at night … you know exactly what I’m up to. That I fuck other guys. And yet you say nothing. Don’t you care?”

I smiled cynically. I would have to be a complete fool to believe she was doing it to get my attention. “Were you doing all that to get a response out of me?”

“What man who claims to love his wife wouldn’t respond?”

“I’ve never claimed to love you, Jillian,” I corrected her. “You knew the score from day one. I married you because your father asked me to. I owed my life to him and he had never asked me for anything else, and you were not exactly ugly so I agreed. But as of now the only glue between us is Zackary. If at any point you get tired of your life here and want to leave, there’s nothing holding you back … but Zackary stays.”

“You think he would want to live with you?” she challenged.

I felt the blood drain from my face. This woman knew which buttons to press, but my voice was even and calm. “Why? You think he wouldn’t want to because of my scars?”

“Have you forgotten, he’s terrified of you.”

It hurt to hear it, but I pretended to chuckle. “So you’ve said, but he won’t be five forever. One day he will understand.”

“Maybe one day he will, but he needs me now. You’ve seen how attached he is to me.”

“When was the last time you fed him, hugged him, or even spoke to him?”

“My father would have been so disappointed in yo—” she began.

Fury rose up in me like an out of control forest fire. I couldn't control the emotions that swarmed into me at the mention of her father. Until Zackary was born he was the only person I had truly loved. It killed me to see her use him to try to make me feel guilty. “Don't you dare mention him,” I warned through gritted teeth. “The only reason you’re still here is because of him. Never forget that.” Unable to stand another second of her vile p

resence I rose to my feet and ordered her out.

Chapter 14

Charlotte

Dinner with the rest of the household staff was, as usual, a jolly affair. They were a good lot, without airs and graces and after just two nights they had already accepted me as one of the team.

Even though Mr. Boothsworth looked like a corpse warmed over, he had a dry and clever wit that made me warm to him the most. The Chef had more than enough stories of his escapades with women in the past to shock us all, and Mrs. Blackmore’s snappy side was brought to life every single time the Chef opened his mouth. I was starting to think there might be some kind of chemistry growing between them.

Once Melly whispered to me that there was talk that there had been something between Mr. Boothsworth and Mrs. Blackmore in the past. The thought, though amusing, was a little bit disconcerting too. I couldn’t imagine a more unsuitable couple.

It was late when we ended our meals and headed off to retire to our various sections of the house. As Carrie, one of the maids, and I were about to part ways at the top of the stairs, I couldn't stop myself from asking, as innocently as I could, “I heard you've worked here a bit longer than Mrs. Blackmore.”

“I have,” she replied. “Three years now.”

“Have you ever seen Zackary’s father?”

“No, nobody has seen him,” she said.

“Oh.” I tried my best not to show my disappointment.

“But I did find a picture of him … it was definitely before the accident since there were absolutely no scars on his face.”

“Where is it?” I asked. “Could you show it to me?”

She looked around for a moment before returning her gaze back to me. “I can, but … it would be a rather dangerous mission.”

“What do you mean?”