Chapter 2 - THE TOWER AND THE TIGER
The top floor of Hayes Horizon Technologies smelled of polished marble, rain, and quiet power.
Emma held six-year-old Lily’s small hand tightly as the glass elevator glided up forty floors above downtown Seattle. Lily wore her brightest yellow sneakers—bought two days ago with part of the five-thousand-dollar tip—and stared wide-eyed at the city shrinking beneath them.
“Mommy,” Lily whispered, touching the cool glass. “Are we going to see the king?”
“No, sweetie,” Emma murmured, smoothing her own modest navy cardigan. “Just a man who runs a very big company.”
When the elevator doors slid open, Patricia Wells was waiting. She was fiftyish, impeccably tailored, and possessed the sharp, assessing eyes of someone paid to filter out the noise of the world. Her gaze softened slightly when she saw Lily.
“Ms. Parker,” Patricia said, stepping forward. “Mr. Hayes is finishing a call. Please come through.”
They were led into a sprawling corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Puget Sound. A massive dark oak desk sat near the center, but what caught Emma’s attention was Toby.
The seven-year-old sat on a plush leather sofa in the corner, staring at an iPad with a sullen, distant look. Next to him stood a stern-looking woman in a navy uniform—a professional nanny, posture rigid, hands folded neatly over her apron.
When Toby looked up and spotted Emma, his face transformed.
“Emma!” he gasped, sliding off the sofa so fast he dropped his iPad onto the carpet.
The nanny frowned. “Toby, please. Mind your manners.”
Toby ignored her completely, trotting over to Emma and stopping a foot away. His eyes fell on Lily. “Who’s that?”
“This is my daughter, Lily,” Emma said warmly, kneeling down so she was at eye level with both kids. “Lily, this is Toby.”
Lily tilted her head, her dark curls bouncing. “Do you like tigers?”
Toby blinked. “Tigers?”
“My mom said you told a story about a lady running away from a big tiger.”
A tiny, genuine grin broke across Toby’s face. “It wasn’t just a tiger. It was a giant tiger that ate entire couches.”
Across the room, a heavy wooden door opened. William Hayes stepped out, wearing a charcoal suit without a tie, his dark hair neatly styled, his expression unreadable. He paused, watching his son animatedly talking to two females who clearly didn't fit into his corporate fortress.
“Patricia,” William said, his deep voice cutting through the children’s laughter. “Take the kids to the terrace lounge. Have the kitchen bring up some juice.”
The uniform-clad nanny stepped forward. “Mr. Hayes, I can handle Toby—”
“Patricia will take them, Mrs. Gable,” William interrupted smoothly, his tone leaving no room for debate. “You may take an early lunch.”
Mrs. Gable’s jaw tightened, but she bowed her head. “Yes, Mr. Hayes.”
Once Patricia had guided Lily and a reluctant Toby out toward the glass terrace, the massive office fell quiet. The rain tapped against the high glass windows.
William walked behind his desk, but he didn't sit down. He leaned against the edge, crossing his arms, his blue eyes fixing on Emma.
“You didn’t call the number,” William noted.
“I didn’t think a five-thousand-dollar tip required a follow-up interview,” Emma replied, standing straight, refusing to be intimidated by the mahogany and the view.
“It wasn’t a tip, Ms. Parker. It was a retainer.”
Emma frowned. “A retainer for what?”
William pulled a thick leather folder from his desk and slid it across the wood toward her. “I’ve gone through six private nannies in fourteen months. Child psychologists. Behavioral specialists from Stanford and Harvard. None of them can get Toby to eat a full meal, let alone smile. You did both in four minutes using a story about an astronaut and a moon steak.”
“I’m a waitress, Mr. Hayes. I don't have a degree in child development.”
“You have empathy,” William said flatly. “Which appears to be a credential none of my high-priced agency hires possess.”
Emma looked down at the folder. “What is this?”
“A contract,” William said. “I want to hire you as Toby’s primary companion and residential coordinator. You will live in the guest house on my estate in Mercer Island. Your daughter will attend the private academy down the street—all tuition covered. Your salary will be one hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year.”
Emma felt the air leave her lungs. One hundred and fifty thousand.
It was more money than she had made in the last four years combined. It meant security. It meant Lily would never have to wear shoes two sizes too small again. It meant no more late-rent notices slipped under her apartment door at midnight.
“Why me?” Emma asked, her voice dropping into a cautious whisper. “A man like you could hire anyone in the world.”
William’s expression closed off, a subtle shadow passing over his sharp features. “Toby hasn't spoken about his mother in two years without having a panic attack. Three nights ago, he brought her up to you. He trusts you.”
Emma stepped closer to the desk, her eyes searching his. “And what about you, Mr. Hayes? Do you trust me?”
William looked at her for a long, heavy moment. “I trust results, Ms. Parker. And my son needs help.”
He tapped the pen resting beside the folder. “Do we have a deal?”
Emma looked out the glass doors toward the terrace, where Lily and Toby were currently pointing at a seagull on the railing, both of them giggling. She thought of her crumbling apartment, her late bills, and the motherless boy who had held her hand like a lifeline.
“On one condition,” Emma said, looking William dead in the eye.
William raised a dark eyebrow. “You're setting conditions?”
“If I take this job, I’m not just a staff member you order around,” Emma said firmly. “I care for Toby my way. No sterile schedules. No forcing him to sit through three-hundred-dollar dinners when he's crying. You let me bring some actual life into that house.”
William stared at her, unaccustomed to being challenged in his own sky-high office. For a second, she thought he might throw her out.
May you like
Instead, a faint, almost invisible twitch touched the corner of his mouth.
“Sign the contract, Ms. Parker,” William said. “Welcome to Mercer Island.”
