The Nanny and the CEO by Rebecca Winters Page B

held a child’s chair in the shape of Piglet. A big Eyeore dominated the oval hook rug. In another carton he found a lamp whose base was shaped like a honey pot. The last carton was the biggest. When he opened it, he found an adult rocking chair with Owl as the motif.
    â€œThat’s so you can sit in here and feed him while you rock him to sleep.” She’d thought of everything. The set charmed him. She charmed him.
    He took all the boxes out of the apartment and piled them in the hall. When he came back, Reese had placed the furniture around and had put a soft, furry Winnie the Pooh in one corner of his crib.
    â€œYou’ve turned this room into the Hundred Acre Wood. I like it.”
    She whirled around with an anxious look on her face. “Honestly?”
    â€œI doubt there’s another nursery more inviting. Jamie will grow up loving to be in here. Thank you for helping me.” She was an amazing person who had the knack of making everything exciting.
    â€œI haven’t had so much fun in years.”
    Neither had he. The ramifications of that admission were beginning to haunt him. “It’s noon. We need a break.”
    Reese nodded. “I think your son is ready for another bottle.” She finished putting the outfits she’d bought into the dresser drawers.
    â€œAs soon as I wash my hands, I’ll be right back to try out the rocker with him.”
    When Nick returned a few minutes later he found her putting more things on top of the dresser. Besides a large, colorfully illustrated edition of Winnie the Pooh, plus a leather-bound book that said Baby’s Memories, she’d added a pacifier, a couple of rattles, some infant painkiller, a baby thermometer, his little brush and a box of tissues.
    In an incredibly short period of time she’d written Jamie’s signature on the face of his apartment. Now it was their home, father and son.
    At the thought of what would have happened if he hadn’t hired her, he experienced real terror because it had opened up an old window of time. For a moment he’d glimpsed the painful gray emptiness of yesterday. He wanted that window closed forever so he wouldn’t have to know those emotions again.
    Needing to feel his son’s wiggly body, he drew him out of the swing and they sat down in the rocker. Reese had put the bottle of formula next to it. While Nick fed him, she placed a burp cloth over his shoulder. He felt her gaze and could tell something was on that fascinating mind of hers. “I’ll be right back.”
    Before long she returned with her phone and started snapping pictures of him and Jamie, of the room itself. “I’ll get these photos made into prints and start his scrap-book. My mom kept one for each of us and I still look at mine. When you get time, give me any photos you’d like to add.”
    â€œI’ll do that.” When he’d separated from Erica, he’d instructed the maids to put the wedding album and photos in the dresser drawer of the bedroom at the other end of the hall.
    â€œWhile you’re at it, if you have his birth certificate and the picture they took of him at the hospital, I could add it,” Reese suggested. “There’s a family tree in his book where I can put in pictures of you and his mother, and his grandparents. After he’s older, he’ll pore over them for hours.”
    Nick smiled as the ideas rolled from her. She seemed to really care about Jamie and his future. She was remarkable.
    â€œLater on I’ll see what I can dig up.”
    â€œGood.” She took one more picture of the stuffed animal in the bed. “We’ll call his baby book The Penthouse at Pooh Corner. ”
    Nick broke into laughter. He couldn’t help it, even though it startled Jamie, who fussed for a minute before settling down again. Her way of putting things was a never-ending source of delight.
    In the doorway to the hall she said,