One Good Reason Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  One Good Reason

  Michelle Maris

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Michelle Maris. All Rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute or transmit, in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher.

  First Edition - May 18, 2017

  The Author recognizes all trademarks of any companies, products, and services mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Mrs. Ross sat in front of the desk staring down at the open file in front of her. "Are you sure you only want to interview this one candidate?"

  "What's your concern, Elaine?" Noah sat behind the desk reviewing a report he received earlier in the day never looking at Mrs. Ross as he asked and waited for her response.

  "It’s not a concern. I think you should interview as many candidates as you can before you make your final decision." Mrs. Ross lifted her reading glasses off her nose to examine the picture of the girl. "She looks young. How old is she?" Mrs. Ross shuffled through the other papers looking for her birthday.

  "She’s thirty-two, and I trust my instinct on this one."

  "She looks younger than thirty-two. She's beautiful." Elaine’s suspicious stare placed Noah on the defensive. Few people could do that to him, but Elaine Ross had that ability. She was the closest thing to a mother to Noah; yet, she rarely overstepped her boundaries when dealing with him.

  "I know what you’re thinking but it was her essay that persuaded me. Did you read her essay?" His eyebrow shot up as he questioned her.

  The essay Natalie Hill wrote as part of the job application was not the first thing that captured Noah's attention. Noah Westlake skimmed through the applications with little interest until he settled on Natalie's picture.

  The warmth in her eyes along with the smile on her face captivated him from the first glance. Then her essay revealed to him her soul. The honesty and the vulnerability he felt as he read her words stopped him from considering anyone else from the pile of candidates. It had to be her, and though Mrs. Ross might suspect his motives were one-sided, it was quite the opposite.

  "I want you to call her. Place her on speaker phone and go through the remaining questions I have for her."

  Noah flipped the phone on his desk to face Elaine while he sat back in the chair bending his leg to rest his foot on the opposite knee. He leaned his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers under his chin while he watched Elaine read over the questions.

  "Mr. Westlake, many of these questions you already have the answers to. The background checks told us plenty that’s why I’m surprised you want to bring this young girl into your home and around your daughter."

  "She’s young but I’m only seven years older than her and I want you to ask them anyway." He insisted, and then he added. "Her background checks don’t concern me, anymore." Noah never told Elaine that he hired a private investigator to look into Natalie Hill’s past, her present and any possible problems in her future. The information that turned up didn’t concern Noah. Noah knew any problems that might surface, he’d take care of personally, or he’d call on someone else if he had to.

  Elaine dialed the phone number from the application. While it rang, Elaine continued to stare at Natalie’s picture. After three rings, a young woman’s voice answered.

  "Natalie Hill," Elaine said.

  "Yes," Natalie answered.

  Not the typical female voice that Noah expected. Her voice sounded feminine, but an underlying smokiness rounded out the tone. He reached across the desk, slid the picture of Natalie closer to him and turned the picture to face him. Her voice and her face made for a sexy combination.

  "Natalie, my name is Elaine Ross. I work for Mr. Westlake. Do you have time to talk?"

  "I do." A wave of excitement traveled through Natalie. Out of all the jobs, she applied to; this position was the one she most wanted. Working for the Westlake's meant she'd have a roof over her head, a generous salary, and a sense of security, which she craved more than anything. And she hoped spending most of her time with a nine-year-old girl would bring her a sense of calm she hadn’t felt in years.

  "Mr. Westlake asked me to call you. He is traveling for business but is interested in moving forward in this process. He needs to fill the position, but out of the many candidates he interviewed none of them fully met his expectations. But first, I need to clarify a few things with you. Besides the background checks Mr. Westlake required before this call, he has a few final questions."

  "Yes, his secretary called to inform me I was a viable candidate, but they needed my signature permitting them to move forward on the background checks." Natalie hoped only limited information could show up in the background checks. She felt comfortable that she'd get far in the interview process because her credentials matched their needs.

  "Yes, well, Mr. Westlake received the reports, and we can proceed. So, Natalie, is there anything impeding you from working under a two-year contract?"

  "No, and honestly I'm glad there is the possibility the position could continue past that two-year mark if both parties agreed."

  "Yes, that is a possibility." Mrs. Ross looked at Noah. His expression remained indifferent. "Is there anything you have not disclosed that is pertinent to the final decision?"

  "Nothing that would interfere with taking care of Erin," Natalie responded.

  "Nothing from your past that could come up?" Mrs. Ross clarified her original question.

  "No. Does Mr. Westlake have concerns?" Natalie had no arrests, but she wasn’t sure if police reports showed up in background checks. She knew credit reports and arrests records were standard, but she couldn’t be sure if filing a police report would show up.

  "Mr. Westlake wants no surprises. Erin is his daughter, and you will be in charge of her care, her well-being, and her safety. So I will ask you again is there anything from your past we need to know?"

  Noah adjusted his position in the chair. He sat forward waiting to hear Natalie’s response as he continued to stare at her picture.

  There was a pregnant pause
before Natalie answered. "Mrs. Ross, I grew up in an insecure family environment, I spent much of my childhood alone, and I would never want a child to feel the way I did. If given the opportunity, I will care for and protect their child. A child should only know love and a child should feel safe. I’m sure that is all the information the Westlake’s need to know along with my education and my impeccable references."

  Elaine looked at Noah. Noah nodded.

  "Thank you, Natalie, I will be in touch to let you know the next steps." As Elaine finished up with Natalie, she handed her file back to Noah.

  "Thank you, Mrs. Ross, I hope this works out and we’ll be able to meet. Enjoy your day." Natalie said right before they disconnected from the call.

  Elaine stared at Noah waiting for a response. Noah sat back in his chair zoning in on the picture staring back at him. Natalie was the right choice. Natalie was the only choice. He felt confident that despite the few minor details his private investigator unearthed, Noah found no issue with bringing Natalie around his daughter.

  "Call her next week and set up a day that week for her to come in then offer her the position. Have her move in the following day." Noah instructed Mrs. Ross. "Also, cancel the temp service. Tell them we no longer require their services after this week."

  "What if Natalie turns down the position?" Elaine knew Noah wanted things the way he wanted them, but he could not control every situation.

  "She won’t."

  Chapter 1

  Natalie Hill

  I drove up in my twelve-year-old white Volvo. When I purchased this car from my neighbor, it was in excellent condition. Though built like a tank, it's showing its age. When idling, I can hear a tick, tick, tick sound coming from the engine. I only hope it lasts me a few more months because right now I can't afford any repairs.

  I came to a stop in front of the entrance. I leaned out the window and stretched to reach the buzzer. A voice came through the crackling noise of the black box.

  "Yes, how can I help you?" The voice sounded similar to the one corresponding with me over the phone.

  "Hi, my name is Natalie Hill, I'm here to see Mrs. Ross."

  "Come through." She responded without identifying herself.

  The towering wrought iron gate crept open, and I drove through. Gray and charcoal stones paved out the long drive to a two-story smooth gray stucco and glass contemporary home. The large windows that spanned the entire front of the house and surrounded the massive front doors reflected the morning sun. The landscape manicured to perfection; every shrub clipped, cleaned, and placed to match the rigid modern feel of the home.

  I stepped out of my car and stared up at the towering structure, which after today might be my new home. Large slabs of bluestone lead to the front door. I quickly counted well over a dozen. Walking up the stairs, I noticed there was not a speck of debris; not a leaf, not a piece of mulch, not even a small bug dared to lay claim to this space.

  I pressed the lighted button surrounded by a platinum back plate. A dull gong sounded on the other side of the door and the sound of heels clicking on the floor beneath them became louder as they approached the door.

  As I expected, a woman answered the door wearing an elegant coffee-colored suit. The hem of her skirt appropriately stopped in the middle of her knee and the suit jacket tailored to fit her frame. At the sight of her, my back tensed and I straightened my shoulders.

  "Hello, Natalie, come in please." She stood to the side leaving room for me to enter.

  Walking past her, I quickly eyed the expansive space and noticed how clean the air smelled. It did not smell like pine, lemons, or chemical cleaner; it smelled fresh.

  Tumbled marble floors extended back to an impressive floating staircase leading up to a second floor. Both sides of the foyer opened to large sunken rooms, and beyond the staircase, more open space lead to an enormous kitchen.

  Towering white columns stood equally spaced on the edge of each room creating boundaries from room to room. Staring down the expansive space in front of me, I realized the one side of the house was a mirror image of the other with only the different furnishings distinguishing the two.

  I faced her as she spoke. "Natalie, come sit in here."

  She gestured to the room on the left where a huge couch covered in gray suede material took up most of the space. The silver gray area rug added warmth to the room, and the tables made of metal and stone contrasted the softness of the couch and the rug. A large espresso wood desk stood at the far end of the room. On top of the desk were papers organized in various piles and a landline phone placed in the right corner of the desk.

  The house and its exquisite furnishings screamed money, a lot of money, but it also screamed something else.

  Upon entering, a person became instantly aware of the owner. The owner seemed controlled, clean, neat, and there was no room to be any other way. To be anything else when in this space would be like an ink splatter bleeding on white silk. I wondered who was the control freak, Mr. or Mrs. Westlake?

  I placed my bag on the floor next to me and sat on the severely tailored couch. While taking in the surrounding space, I felt insignificant and fidgeted.

  "Natalie, I'm Mrs. Ross. It's nice to meet you in person." Mrs. Ross sat in one of the two matching chairs opposite me. "I read your folder and stared at your picture so often that I feel like I know you already."

  "It's nice to meet you." I folded my hands on my lap. Next I unfolded them and dropped them to my sides, and finally, I moved my palms down on the tops of my thighs and rested them there. I couldn’t relax. Everything about the space and the woman intimidated me.

  Mrs. Ross seemed like a lovely woman, but she dressed so neat and her clothes expensive that I became too aware of my appearance. I wished I could afford to wear something more business rather than business casual. My simple black pants and blouse were simple, clean, and pressed but made no statement.

  Mrs. Ross was an older woman with sunken in cheeks. Although her pasty white face mimicked death, her molasses eyes gave warmth to her stern look.

  "Now I know I’m repeating myself, but I want to make certain of a few more things before we continue in this process. First, I want you to ensure me you'll be comfortable living here year round." Before I answered, she added, "Even though the child is here only half the time."

  "Yes, if that's what the family wants?" Unaware of normal protocol, being my first experience as a live-in nanny, I agreed to everything.

  "It's Mr. Westlake. It's what Mr. Westlake wants." She hesitated as she rubbed the skin just under her ear. "Will you be comfortable living in the house even when the child is not home?" She scribbled something on a yellow pad resting on her lap. I felt like I said something wrong.

  "I don't see why not? And Mrs. Westlake? Will I be dealing with her at all?" I asked, curious if she had a say in things.

  "There is no Mrs. Westlake. They divorced years ago, and her name reverted to her maiden name as a condition of the settlement. You will have no contact with Erin's mother." Mrs. Ross looked at my bag on the floor. "It's all stated in the contract."

  "Yes, I read it, but it only mentioned communication with Erin’s other nanny. It omitted Erin’s mother, so I was unaware of any protocol." I didn't know what to think of the situation, but it didn't matter. I needed a job, and this job solved many of my current problems. I needed a roof over my head, I needed money, and I needed obscurity. "Do you live here?"

  "No. I come in three times a week. I take care of Mr. Westlake's estate, his mail, and other pertinent business. There is a cleaning crew that comes in every Friday."

  "And Mr. Westlake? How often is he here?" I asked.

  "He comes and goes as he pleases." She rubbed that same spot just under her ear. "Any questions?"

  "Is he a kind man?" I thought my question fair since I would live under this stranger's roof and because I would be alone with the man half the time. "I mean will I feel comfortable living here with him."

  "In answer to
your first question, he’s indifferent." She rubbed that same spot again. "But you won't be unhappy. It is a pleasant house, and Erin is a delightful child. Just expect little from Mr. Westlake. He says few words and prefers solitude, but you should not fear him. Though he may seem off-putting, he is kind in his way."

  "Is this the final interview?" With two hundred and three dollars to my name and nowhere to live, I needed this job desperately. Luckily, an old coworker took pity on me and allowed me to stay with her until I found employment. Sleeping on my coworker's couch for the past five weeks, although I appreciated it, would not suffice for much longer. I knew I needed to move on.

  "We've done an extensive background check on you. Mr. Westlake found everything satisfactory. Your education is extensive, and you graduated from one of the top schools in the country. Your references spoke highly of you stating you are a charming and kind young woman," she took in a deep breath and rubbed that spot again, "and Mr. Westlake reviewed your file along with your headshot, drug test, doctor's report and your credit report and felt satisfied with everything. He’d like to offer you the position."

  "He doesn't want to meet me in person before he hires me?" I thought for sure I would meet my employer before being offered the position or accepting it.

  "Mr. Westlake travels a lot for business; he is often away. He relies on my opinion and trusts my feedback." Rubbing that spot, again. "If you accept the position, you must sign the two-year contract. You received the copy I sent you, correct?"