Carrying the Greek Tycoon's Baby
* * *
By the time he dried off, Jordan had convinced himself even further that he’d be able to make amends. He was bound to run into the young lady one way or another. Not only would he apologize, he would also make sure to compliment her on her clear artistic talent. Maybe he’d even get a chance to explain that he dealt with curt, cutthroat business people every day in his professional life. Sometimes, that curtness spilled over into his own behavior, particularly on days like the one today had been.
The notion of being able to explain himself served to bolster his mood. And it absolutely had nothing to do with the prospect of running into the artistic painter at some point in the future.
He heard the front door open downstairs followed by Elise’s feminine voice announcing their arrival. After throwing on a pair of sweats and soft cotton T-shirt, he made his way downstairs.
“You found the place okay, then?” he asked the nanny, who was in the process of helping Sonya out of her bright pink hoodie.
“Yep.”
“Hey, sport,” he said as he tousled the little girl’s hair. She responded with a simple wave and a small, shy smile. Not that he’d expected it, but a part of him still reeled at the lack of a verbal response. Since slowly and gradually losing her ability to hear, the child had become less and less willing to speak. It was tearing him up inside, despite what all the experts said about such a response being common and expected.
He leaned down to her height and signed that he was happy to see her. That earned him a toothless grin. They were both just recently starting to get the hang of using sign language. Though barely six, Sonya was a quick and motivated learner. In fact, she was picking up on the skill faster than he was.
“She looks tired.” He stood, addressing Elise.
“And hungry. It was a long ride. Though Sonya did enjoy the ferry from the Cape.”
“I saw a pizza place not too far away on my ride over. Hope they deliver.”
“If they don’t, I call ‘not it’ on driving to pick it up. I’ve had enough traveling.”
“Fine,” he relented. “Then after that we’ll get her settled and into bed,” he said out loud but made a cupped hand sleeping motion to Sonya. She nodded in response.
“She’s excited to see her new room,” Elise said. “Can I take her up for a quick look before dinner?”
“There’s a surprise waiting for her there.”
Elise raised an eyebrow with curiosity. Jordan held his hand out to Sonya. “Let’s go see,” he told her, not sure how much she would hear him but knowing she’d understand.
Once they got there, Sonya’s eyes grew wide. She clapped in pure joy when she saw the castle painted on the wall. Another pang of guilt slammed through Jordan’s chest. The beautiful painter had been right all along. Sonya was delighted with the image. She ran over to the wall to take a closer look. Elise had started recording the little girl’s reaction with her mobile phone. Sonya paced along the wall, taking in every detail, smiling in delight.
“That’s amazing,” Elise said behind him. “How thoughtful of you to commission someone to do such a thing, Jordan. Someone obviously very talented.”
If she only knew. An image suddenly flashed in his mind—of a dark-haired beauty in paint-splattered overalls trying desperately to control her trembling bottom lip. Sonya ran back to him and hugged his leg in delight. He could only rub the top of her small head.
“Ank oo,” she said in a tiny, strained voice.
Jordan cursed under his breath as he bit back the sudden choking feeling at the base of his throat. Sonya’s attempt at speaking was such a rare occurrence these days.
Yeah, he owed someone a heck of an apology.
* * *
The little girl was ignoring her. Or she was playing a little game of sorts. One thing was for certain; Jess wasn’t familiar with the child at all, had never seen her before here at the Vineyard Vine’s Children’s Center. Or anywhere else on the island, for that matter. The center provided a central location for all sorts of activities and classes, including child care and creative arts for young children, as well as athletic pursuits such as gymnastics and swim lessons in the regulation-size pool behind the building. Jess had been teaching painting there part-time for the better part of three years. And she loved every minute of it. Perhaps she had a new pupil. The girl’s mother was probably in the office right behind them signing her up for classes.