Christmas Bride For The Boss

Then again, a car wasn’t the easiest place to have a conversation with a small child. Sophie let the conversation lapse until they were back at Jamie’s house. Then she helped Sienna out of the car, and waited for Jamie to unlock the front door.

‘I’ll give you a quick guided tour,’ Jamie said. ‘Obviously this is the hallway.’ He took her through the downstairs, room by room. ‘Living room, dining room, playroom, my office, downstairs cloakroom, kitchen.’

The house was beautiful, a large Edwardian villa with polished wooden floors, pale walls and windows that let in plenty of light; but it felt more like a show-house than a home. There were no pieces of artwork from nursery school held to the fridge by magnets or pinned to a cork board in the kitchen; there were no family photographs anywhere, either. And Sophie had never seen such a tidy playroom in her life. It made her wonder if Sienna was even allowed to touch her toys, or maybe there was a strict rule about only playing with one thing at a time.

This definitely wasn’t a normal home. Even though her own father had put his job first, last and in between, her mother had made sure to give all three children her time and affection.

Then again, Sienna didn’t have a mother to balance out her father’s drive for work.

‘I’ll make us a drink,’ Jamie said when they reached the kitchen. ‘Coffee or tea?’

‘Coffee would be lovely, thanks. Just milk, no sugar.’

‘Would you prefer a cappuccino or a latte?’

‘As long as it’s coffee, I really don’t mind. Whatever’s easy,’ she said.

‘Fair enough.’ He made two mugs of coffee via a very posh coffee machine and poured milk into a plastic beaker of milk for Sienna. ‘I’ll be in my office if you need me,’ he said.

Obviously she and Sienna needed to spend time together so they could get to know each other, but this felt almost like an excuse for him to avoid the little girl. Or maybe she was being unfair to Jamie.

‘Shall we go into the playroom?’ she asked Sienna.

The little girl nodded.

In the playroom, Sienna agreed to do some drawing and colouring together. Sophie couldn’t help noticing how the little girl coloured very carefully, making sure she stayed within the lines, and used pastel colours. So different from her exuberant niece Hattie, who always picked the brightest colours and wasn’t in the slightest bit concerned if she coloured over the lines. The little girl reminded Sophie of herself as a child, desperate for her father’s approval and never quite getting it.

‘How about a story?’ she asked.

Again, Sienna was quietly acquiescent.

‘What’s your favourite story that Daddy reads to you?’ Sophie asked.

‘Cindy always reads my bedtime story,’ Sienna said.

‘Okay.’ Sophie’s sister-in-law Mandy had been very eloquent about the benefits of having a male role model reading to children, so her brother Will always read to Hattie and Sam at night. Maybe if she told Jamie, he might consider reading to Sienna. But, as her sole parent, why wasn’t he doing that already?

Sophie read a couple of stories to Sienna, scooping the little girl onto her lap and persuading her to join in with some of the words. And when she made a tremendous pause before the last repetition of a refrain in one particular book, she was finally rewarded with a giggle from Sienna.

‘What would you like for dinner tonight?’ she asked when they’d finished the story.

‘We always have chicken nuggets on Monday,’ Sienna said.

Sophie remembered seeing the menu plan in Cindy’s file. Just to check that her suspicions were correct, she asked, ‘Does Daddy have chicken nuggets, too?’

‘Daddy doesn’t have dinner with me. He’s usually still at work.’

‘So Cindy has dinner with you?’

She nodded. ‘In the kitchen.’

‘Well, Daddy’s home today, so he can eat with you and me. And we don’t have to stick to eating chicken nuggets just because it’s Monday. Let’s go and see what’s in the fridge, shall we?’

Just as Sophie had hoped, Jamie clearly had either asked the temporary nanny to do a grocery shop the previous week or he had his groceries delivered. The fridge was half-full of fruit and vegetables; there were a couple of chicken breasts and a packet of minced beef. There were also a couple of supermarket ready-prepared meals, which told her that Jamie didn’t bother cooking for himself in the evening and just shoved something into the microwave to heat through.

‘Do you like spaghetti Bolognese?’ she asked.

Sienna nodded.

‘Good. That’s what we’ll have for dinner tonight. Daddy, too. Cindy’s file says you have dinner at six?’

‘Yes.’

‘Great. You can help me cook dinner.’

Little girl’s eyes were round. ‘Can I? Really?’

Sophie’s suspicions deepened. ‘Do you cook with Cindy?’

‘No.’

‘Not even cupcakes or cookies?’

Sienna grimaced. ‘They’re messy.’

So who was the neat freak? Cindy the nanny? Or was this an extreme reaction by Sienna, wanting to be super-neat and tidy so her father would approve of her? ‘Mess is exactly what aprons are for. And vacuum cleaners,’ Sophie said firmly. ‘I make cupcakes with my niece Hattie all the time. She’s the same age as you.’

Sienna looked shocked.

Oh, honestly. Sophie had to bite her tongue. Right at that moment she wanted to shake Jamie Wallis until his teeth rattled. The whole point about childhood was to have fun while you were growing up and learning about the world. And, yes, she could understand that not everyone was comfortable living in total chaos, but if Sienna made a mess she could also learn how to clear up again.

‘We’ll make cupcakes tomorrow afternoon,’ she promised. ‘With sprinkles.’

‘Chocolate sprinkles?’ Sophie asked hopefully.

‘Absolutely yes.’ She’d pick them up tomorrow, together with a few other things she enjoyed doing with Hattie and Sam. She smiled at Sienna. ‘Right, I need you to do a very important job for me—can you show me where the pots and pans are?’

While she was directing Sienna to help her get the ingredients, she texted Jamie.

Dinner at six. You are eating with us in the kitchen. No arguments.

He ignored her text.

Well, fine. She wasn’t daunted.

Just before she was going to serve up, she rang him. ‘You have three minutes.’

‘I’m in the middle of something.’