Page 36 of The Nanny Contract
Two hours later, I watched from my bedroom window as the final guests left Westbrook Meadows.
The estate felt empty without the clamor of the crowd. And even emptier without Logan next to me.
I’d stationed myself alone in my room since Logan had walked away from me earlier. We hadn’t spoken since. He’d been too busy calming everyone’s nerves and putting out fires among his coworkers.
I tried my best to search my inner saint for the capacity to forgive, but it was difficult to excuse the way I’d been treated earlier. I knew that Logan was struggling with the looming custody threat from the Mercers, but I didn’t want to manifest excuses for his behavior.
My feelings mattered too.
Glancing around the cavernous room, I suddenly realized I was alone with my thoughts—and that was the last thing I wanted.
So, I went downstairs to head toward the kitchen for a late-night snack. Martin kept the freezer stocked to the brim with various flavors of ice cream. My plan was to snag one then head back upstairs to cuddle up with a pillow and eat my heart out while watching reality TV.
As I crept down the wide hallway, I hoped I’d find myself alone in the kitchen. Betsy was sharp; I knew she’d notice my sadness and ask questions.
I wasn’t in the mood for that.
Plus, I didn’t have any answers.
As I neared the living room, I noticed Logan and Betsy speaking quietly with two formally dressed people. The air was alive with tension, and as I stepped closer, I recognized them: Helen and Robert Mercer.
Helen caught sight of me first, her expression icy.
Finally, everyone else noticed me as well. It was clear that I had stepped into a very heated conversation.
I had no idea what was happening, but I found myself hoping it was unrelated to the article published earlier in the day.
As I entered the room, I could tell that they’d just started their conversation.
Helen turned to Logan and, without any pleasantries, said, “We’re here because we are concerned about our grandson’s wellbeing. We saw the article published earlier today.”
Damn. They saw it.
I suddenly felt as if I was nothing more than a dark cloud over the Westbrook family. Since my arrival, chaos seemed to engulf them, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.
Robert nodded in agreement with his wife. His face was frozen in a deep scowl.
“You should be aware,” Helen added, “we’re filing paperwork tomorrow seeking full custody of Henry. We won’t stand by while he’s raised under…”
Helen turned and looked at me. “Questionable influences.”
This was personal. She truly hated me.
Logan’s posture tightened as he stepped forward, closing the gap between him and the Mercers. His voice was measured and calm, but it carried an edge of steel.
“Henry is my son,” he said, his gaze locked on Helen. “He’s being raised in a home filled with stability, love, and guidance.”
Helen scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’ve been too distracted lately, Logan. Your long hours at the hospital. Your… lifestyle.”
Logan’s eyes widened and his tone hardened. “My work saves lives.”
Helen squinted at him, unimpressed.
Logan didn’t relent. “And my ‘lifestyle,’ as you put it, is none of your damn business. It has nothing to do with my ability to raise my son. Henry is thriving, that’s all that matters.”
As I watched from the sidelines, my heart pounded as Logan’s protective side radiated through the room—I’d never seen anything like it. He was unyielding but composed, a father ready to move mountains for his child.
It was magnetic.