The Ceo's Contracted Mistress
The Ceo’s Contracted Mistress Chapter 46

“I didn’t think they were ever going to go to bed,” Bobbie complained as she flopped backwards on the bed groaning. “It’s almost midnight. Where do they get their energy?”

“I want to know how two kids who can fight as much as they do can plot together as much as they do. I’m still trying to figure out how I agreed to climbing the tree for coconuts.” He shook his head in disbelief, “and then they didn’t even like them.” He ripped his shirt over his head and tossed it away before flopping beside her on the bed. “Chasing them today was harder than running a marathon.”

“I just don’t understand why they’re still awake,” she put her hand out over his mouth to shush him, “listen, they’re still talking.”

He sat up and called out the open door to the bedroom, “Max, Ollie, time for sleep!” The twittering of giggling echoed back down the hall, and he lay back down, “I give up. They can stay up all night.”

She sighed, “I think I’m sleeping in these shorts and t-shirt. I don’t have the energy to undress.”

“Fine with me.” He paused, “though you did have a large smear of jelly down the front of the t-shirt.”

“My shorts also have sand in the pockets from Ollie’s seashells.” She sighed loudly, “I should have taken the time to unpack my suitcase.”

“Screw it, sleep naked.”

“And then those two come in and have a million questions about you seeing my v****a?” she felt cringy just thinking of it. She rolled off the bed exhausted and dragged her feet towards her suitcase. She unzipped it and pulled a red silk nightgown out of it and held it up, “I’m going to wear this because it’s the first thing I found but don’t get any funny ideas. I’m too tired for your shenanigans tonight.”

He lifted his head off the bed and stared at the silk and then dropped his head back down, “fine but you have to wear it at least once more when I have energy to rip it off.”

“Deal,” she shuffled to the bathroom and began brushing her teeth.

“Did you give any thought to how you want to handle the soccer bully?”

“Several,” she spit into the sink. “I thought we could usurp the power on the soccer league’s committee and make sure he never plays again.” She spoke over her toothbrush, “but it feels like a lot of volunteer work to run the league, so I discounted it.”

His laugh carried into the bathroom. “I don’t mind watching kids’ soccer. I might even be convinced to coach but no way in hell am I volunteering on a league committee.”

“Ollie would love you to coach her,” she grinned at him, “I’ll mention it to her –” she shrieked as his shorts hit her from across the room. “Or not.”

“What other ideas do you have?”

“Pressing charges with the local police. I know the league had to file a report because Ollie suffered a serious injury, but we never checked in. We could file charges and maybe Grady could argue for counselling for the kid and anger management for the dad.”

“Next,” he waved his hand impatiently. “I’m not waiting a year to see this into court.”

“Civil court? Sue them?” She kicked off her shorts and threw her shirt off and shimmied into the nighty.

“This guy already has dozens of civil suits against him for his construction company. He’s not going to give two shits for another lawsuit.” Olivier slid into the bed

Bobbie flicked off the light and crawled up the bed curling up on a pillow, “I’m mostly concerned with the kid. The kid needs help Olivier. He’s learning to be a bully because he has a bully for a parent. After he shoved Ollie, he turned to his father for approval. It was sick and wrong.” She shook her head, “he’s a bad father.”

She slid under the sheets. “Maybe we should just report them to CPS.”

“Child protection services?”

“Well, maybe Riggs was onto something. If the kid is so desperate for his father’s attention, he would agree to beat up a bunch of kids on a soccer team in dirty tactics, maybe he is in danger. Maybe Riggs wasn’t wrong when he said the kid gets bullied at home.”

“So, you want to remove the kid from his father?”

“No,” she argued even though it was at the tip of her tongue, “but those types of services are far better equipped to deal with such matters. If the kid or his mother are being hurt and harassed, then they’re in danger.”

“CPS has thousands of kids in far worse situations than this kid, Bobbie,” Olivier tugged her, so she was nestled against him, the little spoon to his big one. “They aren’t going to go checking on a kid without evidence and even if they did, resources are so tapped they’ll do a wellness check, the father will lie, the kid will say he’s fine and next year, he’s beating on Ollie with closed fists instead of just shoving her.”

“I’m still thinking they both need help.”

“I agree they need help but the bigger picture here is this man and his kid are violent and uncontrolled. They are the worst kind of bullies, and they need to be stopped before someone gets hurt again.” When Bobbie opened her mouth, he held up a finger, “what you said earlier today makes sense and you are right. I would not want to see a child homeless, but I truly don’t want to see one dead. I know you think I’m being extreme, but I cannot help but worry the next time this kid does something, it’s going to be a hundred-fold worse.”

“Olivier, you yourself said there was a time when you let your fists do the talking.”

“I never went after anyone who hadn’t started it. I never instigated a damn thing.”

“All I’m saying is this needs to be handled delicately because it’s the life of a nine-year-old boy in the balance.”

“It’s the lives of multiple children in the balance if his behaviour isn’t curtailed.” Olivier continued his argument. “I am angry, Bobbie. I am still struggling with the notion of holding my daughter on my lap while her b***d soaked my hands and our clothes, and she went unconscious on my lap. I just got her and the entire drive to the hospital all I could think was I just got her, and I was going to lose her because a dickhead thought it was a good idea to teach his kid to play dirty.” His voice was raw and emotional as the anger rose again to the surface.

Bobbie felt his words burn into her heart as she rolled over her pillow and crawled onto his chest, “hey, she’s fine. Did you not see her today? She ran, she played, she even swam.”

“She cried when the saltwater hurt her leg at first,” he argued. “She had to wear a swim cap in the ocean, and it hurt her to put it on and off. She had a headache and had to nap for an hour this afternoon. You said yourself she rarely naps. She even felt nauseous today.”

“But it went away after a few minutes.” She cupped his cheek and stared into his eyes. “I love how protective you are of them. It’s nice not to feel like the craziest mama bear on the planet. You definitely make me and Everly appear tame in comparison.”

“Well, what do you propose? What was the final thought you had?”

“What about a little public humiliation?” Bobbie wondered just how tired she was to come up with this idea. Clearly, she was almost in a dream state.

“I’m listening,” he tucked a hand under his head and watched her.

“Have Riggs, Grady and Emile meet with him. Tell him he has to issue a public apology or face litigation. I know you said he has a bunch of lawsuits already, but I can promise not one of those are backed by a billionaire banking mogul. Scare him. Threaten him.”

“Billionaire banking mogul?” he chuckled at the description.

“Yes, it was the description the tabloids gave you yesterday when I was stupidly checking out the headlines.”

“We will tell him his kid has to apologize to Ollie in person and then he has to issue a public apology for his reckless behaviour teaching hooligan behavior, or I will destroy him.” Olivier countered.

She chuckled at his tone, “let’s make his public apology on a giant billboard in downtown Dallas, at his expense and a parenting class and if he doesn’t comply, you can destroy him.”

“Deal.”

“You’re hoping he doesn’t comply,” she shook her head at the way she could read his facial expressions. When he lifted his eyebrows innocently, she tapped his cheek, “you forget I’ve been raising your clones. I know when you’re plotting. You all put the same face on.”

He laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Touché.”

“I had a good day today,” Bobbie said turning her cheek to rest it on his chest. The steady thump of his heart gently strumming under her ear. “It was fun to play with the kids and be a family.”

“It was my favorite day we’ve spent together so far,” he admitted quietly trailing his fingers through her hair. “There was no real drama. No fighting between you and me. No interruptions. No family members giving us their two cents. I feel today I got to learn a lot about the kids and you in a way I haven’t had the chance to learn as of yet.”

“Really?” she smiled at his words. “Like what?”

“I learned your favorite color is blue,” he chuckled as she frowned against him. “I learned when Ollie gets overexcited or overstimulated, Max does this thing where he rubs a circle with his fingertips over her left shoulder. She was losing her mind over replaceing the starfish today after dinner. She was tired from the day, and she was jabbering a mile a minute and he just reached out his hand and rubbed her shoulder and she responded to it instantly.”

She tilted her head to him, “most people don’t notice how close they are because they bicker so much. We had a teacher in first grade who separated them in the class because they felt Ollie was distracting Max. Her behavior in the class over a month grew more erratic.”

“I can see this,” his voice was low as the evening grew long.

“What else did you notice today?”

“I noticed Ollie acts brash and loud but she’s incredibly sensitive. I mean, I’ve seen it before but today it was amplified. Without the audience of family and friends around, she’s less of a performer and more aware of everything around her. She’s very soft-hearted.”

“I had her assessed by the child psychologist the same time I had Max assessed. They each had an individual assessment and then a joint one.” Bobbie admitted quietly. “Ollie is an extravert. She craves the limelight and the flash and excitement of everything bold. If there’s fireworks, she’s sure to set them off and ask everyone to watch her do it. People misinterpret her boldness for being inconsiderate or self-centered when in fact, it’s the opposite. The psychologist proposed because Max is terribly shy, she covers for him by taking focus off him. She’s done it for so long, it’s now become a part of her nature to just be loud.”

“She is loud. Her shriek today over replaceing the conch shell was mind bending,” he laughed.

“She is. I can’t dispute it. If there’s a way to have all eyes on her, it’s happening.”

“Max is quite content to let her have the stage unless he has something to say. Then you can see he wants to throttle her.”

“It’s part of the battle I have with them daily. She’s so in your face all the time she forgets other people want to speak too. It’s why they fight like cats and dogs.”

“Do they often get physical with each other like they did today?” he remembered an argument they had. “I don’t even know who pushed who first. They just lunged at each other like a couple of rams.”

She gave a low laugh, “it’s not uncommon. I’ve pulled them apart more times than I care to admit.”

“I learned you,” he spoke into her hair, “have incredible patience with them. For example, when they squabble, you let them do it for the most part.”

“That’s a Nana Prue trick. When they were toddlers, they were constantly fighting, stealing toys, and not wanting to share. I felt like I needed a whistle and a black and white shirt for the refereeing I was doing. Nana Prue told me if I kept solving their disputes they’d never learn how to negotiate on their own.”

“It explains why her son’s a lawyer,” he laughed.

“True but she’s right. I don’t let them put hands on each other as you saw today when I sent them in opposite directions, but I don’t usually stop them from arguing unless it’s gone on too long or it’s at an inappropriate time. When I’m on a video conference with a client and Grady and they decide to start shrieking at each other, I admit to muting myself and threatening to bash in their gaming console.”

He laughed aloud at her words, “well with the new office downstairs, hopefully it alleviates those situations moving forward.”

“I learned things about you today too,” she tilted her head to look at him.

“Did you?”

“I did,” Bobbie smiled softly, “I noticed when the kids shriek get too loud or they’re on your last nerves the way children can be, you close your eyes and breathe.”

“Caught that did you?” he chuckled.

“Twice,” she laughed at him. “I was questioning whether you were going to assume a lotus pose and do deep meditation.”

“I admit to centering myself when their fighting went long in the tooth,” he shook his head.

“It was the argument over whether you put jelly on top of peanut butter and then close the sandwich or whether you put the jelly on its own slice of bread and then squish them together which did my head in,” she recalled the argument with a frown. “Seriously, who cares? Its all on the sandwich.”

“I don’t know.” He disagreed, “Max’s concern about the jelly making the bread soggy too soon was compelling.”

She gave a low laugh, “don’t let Ollie hear you say it. She’ll be devastated you took his side.”

“Can’t be accused of playing favorites,” he gave a loud yawn.

“Tired?” she questioned as her own eyelids grew heavier.

“Exhausted,” he admitted. “I’ve gone on weeklong trips in the bayou at a camp with no electricity or running water and have not come home as bone weary as I am today.”

“Really?”

“I think for the last few weeks with everything going on, I’ve constantly been in panic mode trying to sort through things. Today was the first day I actually stopped running like a chicken with my head cut off and I think the lack of sleep and anxiety and exhaustion caught up to me once I stopped moving.”

“There’s probably a lot of truth to your words, but I guess I was questioning the weeklong without electricity and running water not your exhaustion. What the hell for?”

His laugh was muffled, “sometimes it’s good to go off grid.”

“We’re off grid here,” she waved her hand in the air over their heads. “Far more comfortable than gators and water moccasins.”

“On occasion, a little danger helps puts life in perspective. It wakes up the senses.”

“It also can take your life away from you,” she turned her head back again to look at him. “You’re a dad now, Olivier. You can’t do risky s**t like that. You can’t die and leave me alone with them. We need you.”

“You are telling me I can’t spend a week in the wilderness?”

“I’m telling you no activities where you could be fatally wounded.”

“I could get killed waterskiing here in the Bahamas,” he shrugged.

“Are you skiing with water moccasins, alligators and whatever other creatures of death exist out there?”

He was laughing at her boldly now, “chérie, there is danger everywhere.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to go looking for it.” She started to roll away from him towards her own side of the bed, but he pulled her back

“Are you truly upset over this?” he tilted her head back to look at him, his brown eyes studying her blue ones intently, “talk to me. Why are you so freaked out about me going camping?”

“It’s not camping, Olivier. It’s camping in an area where you could get killed. I,” she tried to look away from him, but he held her chin fast. “I just don’t like the notion of you getting hurt. I don’t like it.”

“I am always careful on my adventures,” he let his thumb trace the blush of her cheek.

“It simply seems foolhardy to willingly jump into an activity which could end your life.”

“You would be sad if I died?”

“Yes, what a stupid question to ask. Of course, I’d be sad.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? You’re the father of my children.”

“Is this the only reason?”

“It’s the most important one. Do you know how devastated they would be?” She rolled her eyes with exasperation.

“You care for me.” His comment was matter of fact as he refused to let her look away. “Admit it, you care for me.”

“Well of course I care for you. Jesus. I just said you’re the father of my children. I’m laying in your arms in silk. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care for you.”

“How much do you care for me?” his words were teasing and mocking.

“Enough I don’t want you dead from a snakes and gators. Not enough though, I won’t strangle you myself if you don’t to go to sleep soon. This conversation is going on too long.”

His laugh floated around them as he let her chin go and he pressed a warm, tender k**s to her forehead. “I care for you too, Bobbie. A great deal. I won’t get myself killed by snakes or gators.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.” He hugged her tight to his side. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Bobbie tucked her hand under her cheek and closed her eyes and found herself wondering why she’d gotten so worked up over the notion of him camping in dangerous conditions. She shook her head and tried to dispel the lingering sensation of being upset at the notion he could be hurt. It had well and truly set her on edge.

As she heard his breath evening out as he relaxed into sleep, his question rang in her ear. How much did she care for him? When they’d been in Houston, she’d told Everly she’d already been halfway back in love with him but was she lying to herself. Was she in all the way love with him again? Was it again or was it still?

For years she had questioned her decision to name the kids after him, always citing it was a moment of weakness, but her mind always told her, no matter what he’d been, she had loved him and had needed to keep a small piece of him, even if it was only his name, as part of the three of them. She had loved him even when she’d believed he was a monster. Now, laying here with his arms around her, with their children down the hall and the roar of the ocean crashing outside, knowing he wasn’t the bad man she had thought, was her heart recognizing it?

How much did she care for Olivier Villeneuve? The question kept her up half the night.