His Nanny Mate - Season 4 Episode 17

Ella

As I processed Logan’s sudden invitation for drinks, an unfamiliar warmth spread across my cheeks. I was caught off guard by the sudden sense of attraction that bubbled up within me.

The frivolous, detached mobster I had become accustomed to seemed to have been suddenly replaced by a more thoughtful, almost vulnerable man. And despite my inner reservations, I found myself intrigued by this newfound side of him.

“Sure, Logan. Drinks it is.” My voice held an edge of playful challenge, hinting at the maze of emotions coursing within me.

He shot me a half-smile, seemingly satisfied with my answer. As we walked toward the exit of the courthouse, I pondered the unexpected shift in our dynamic. But just as we were about to step out, a familiar voice called out, “Mr. Barrett!”

We both turned to see Miss Smith, the woman with the heart-wrenching testimony from earlier, running towards us with her young son in tow. I froze, my mind immediately thinking of the tense encounter we had in the bathroom. Breathless, Miss Smith stopped before us, her gaze locked onto Logan.

“Thank you,” she began, her voice heavy with emotion. “For everything… and especially for the check.”

I blinked in surprise, glancing from her to Logan, seeking clarification. “What check?”

Miss Smith’s grateful eyes met mine. “After our chat in the restroom, Mr. Logan pulled me aside and handed me a check, covering my son’s medical bills. He asked me to keep it a secret until the session ended. I… I don’t even have the words to express my gratitude.”

My gaze shifted to Logan, whose face now bore an uncharacteristic blush. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his usual cool demeanor. “I just wanted to help. And if you ever need assistance in the future, don’t hesitate to call.”

The moment was touching, to say the least. Miss Smith, teary-eyed, leaned in to give Logan a tight embrace. When they were finished, she looked down at her son. “Go ahead, honey. Tell the nice man what you told me.”

Her son, wringing his hands bashfully, cleared his throat. “Um…. Thank you, Mister. You’re my hero.”

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Logan’s face turned an unexpectedly deep shade of red. Without a word, he crouched down and pulled the little boy into a tight hug. I felt tears beginning to prick at the backs of my eyes, and quickly looked away, biting my lip.

Miss Smith turned to me, her gaze softened. “I owe you an apology, Ella,” she said, wrapping her arms around me. I let her hug me, touched by the warmth of her embrace.

She lowered her voice then so that only I could hear. “I was quick to judge, but seeing you in action today, I believe you’ll achieve great things in the legal world. Keep it up.”

Feeling a rush of emotions, I simply nodded, unable to form coherent words.

As Miss Smith and her son departed, I turned to Logan, my eyes wide with a mix of surprise and admiration. “That was incredibly generous of you, Logan.”

He waved it off with a nonchalant shrug. “Let’s just say I had a change of heart. And yes, you can pat yourself on the back for it.”

Raising an eyebrow, I prodded, “What do you mean?”

Logan scratched the back of his neck, clearly hesitant. “I… may have used my wolf hearing to eavesdrop on your conversation with Miss Smith in the restroom.”

I gaped at him, indignation bubbling up. “You did what?!”

He chuckled, holding up his hands in defense. “Look, I know it wasn’t right, but hearing you both-especially your genuine concern for her- made me reassess some things.”

I punched his arm playfully, though there was a hint of seriousness in my tone. “You better not eavesdrop on me again.” He winced, rubbing the spot where I’d hit him, but his eyes twinkled with mischief. “No promises.”

We both shared a chuckle before I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. “I must admit, you’ve subverted many expectations today, Logan.”

His smirk grew, that familiar arrogance returning. “Maybe I’m full of surprises.”

My heart raced, a mix of exasperation and admiration for the man beside me. If Logan continued on this path, the thought of possibly being his mate someday didn’t seem entirely unpleasant.

“You’re falling for him,” Ema’s voice echoed in my mind, egging me on.

I shook my head to dispel the thoughts. Logan and I could never be mates; not unless he really did extricate himself entirely from the mafia someday, and despite his acts of philanthropy today, it was still mafia money-blood money- that allowed him to afford such things. And when it came to the mafia, it wasn’t so easy to just… leave.

“So,” I said, clearing my throat. “Drinks?”

The weight of the day’s events pressed on me, even as Logan and I entered a dimly lit bar tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. A warm ambiance emanated from the wooden interiors, amber lighting, and the muffled sounds of light jazz playing in the background.

Logan chose a table in a secluded corner, providing both privacy and a view of the entire place. “I come here when I need to… think,” he admitted, his blue eyes scanning the room briefly.

The waiter brought us our drinks-a rich red wine for me, and whiskey on the rocks for him. The first sip felt like a warm hug, melting away the last of my tension.

For a moment, we both sat in silence, lost in our thoughts. But as the alcohol began to take its edge off, a lighter mood settled between us.

“To new beginnings,” Logan finally toasted, raising his glass to mine. I smirked, tapping my glass against his. “And to unexpected turns.”

Our conversation flowed more freely after that, discussing inconsequential things at first-the city, our favorite books, and our go-to comfort food.

Then, emboldened by the alcohol and the camaraderie of the moment, I brought up a more personal topic. “Logan,” I began, my voice slightly hesitant. “Tell me about your mother.”

A shadow passed over his face, but it was quickly replaced by a fond smile.

“She… was amazing, Ella,” he began, his voice filled with reverence. “Kind, wise, and incredibly strong. The type of woman who would light up a room the moment she walked in.”

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His eyes misted over, and for a moment, I saw the vulnerable boy beneath the hardened businessman exterior. “I miss her every single day,” he whispered, his fingers playing with the rim of his glass.

Moved by his openness, I reached out, placing my hand over his. “I’m sorry, Logan,” I murmured, my voice sincere. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be.”

Logan took a deep breath, a shaky exhale escaping him. “There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t wish she could see the man I’ve become. I hope she’d be proud.”

“I’m sure she would be,” I whispered, my fingers gently squeezing his. We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation pressing down on us. But there was a question burning at the back of my mind, and the wine had lowered my inhibitions enough for me to ask.

“Logan, how did she…?”

I trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence, but he understood. His face went rigid, the earlier openness replaced by a guarded expression. The tension between us grew palpable, and I felt the need to fill the silence.

“Logan, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just… We’ve been working together for a while now. And our arrangement-it’s based on mutual respect, understanding, and above all, trust.”

He looked down, taking a deep breath, the emotions playing across his face a testament to the internal battle he was facing. Finally, he met my gaze, his blue eyes intense, holding a depth of pain I hadn’t seen before.

“Ella,” he began, his voice unsteady. “The truth is… I don’t really know what happened to her.”