Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks Series Book 1) Read online

  When Mom suggested getting a live-in nanny to take some of the stress off me, I hated the idea, shutting her down right away. The whole idea was absurd, there’s no way Natalia would have had a live-in nanny and I needed to do what she would have done.

  It was a couple of months before she mentioned it again, and by that time I was so tired trying to deal with a newborn and a three-year-old, while trying to be CEO of the company; I had no choice but to look for someone to help me out.

  The most important thing was for history not to repeat itself. When I was growing up, my own nanny practically raised me, she and Edward that is. That wasn’t how I wanted it to be for my children, I wanted to be there as much as I could.

  I eventually searched for a nanny, knowing that it had to be the right fit for all of us.

  That’s when I found Amelia; she had no experience with children apart from babysitting, but the way that Izzie would calm when she was in her arms was enough to seal the deal for me.

  She was jumpy at times, but all that mattered was how she was with the kids. She only watches them until I come home from work, or the odd night when I have to attend a function. She occasionally helps out in the morning too and it works well for all of us. Especially as she lives in the pool house; not only does she have her own space, she’s still close enough to not have to commute each day.

  “Of course.” She smiles. “You know how much I love watching them.”

  “Thanks,” I say, clearing my throat and turning around. “You guys ready?” I ask, moving my attention to Clay and Izzie as I rinse my cup out with water and drop it into the sink before taking a couple of backward steps toward the door.

  Izzie shoves one last forkful of eggs into her mouth before nodding her head.

  “Yep,” Clay answers, slipping off the stool with Izzie following behind him.

  “Have a good day!” Amelia shouts as we all file out of the house and into the waiting car that Edward is driving.

  It’s not a long drive to the kids’ school, but the whole way Izzie introduces us to all of the new songs that she’s been learning, making Clay puff out his cheeks and shake his head, which in turn only makes Izzie sing louder with a bigger smile on her face.

  I sigh sadly once they’re both out of the car and safely inside the light brown, stoned building that is their private school; it’s too quiet in here without them.

  “Traffic looks good today, should have you in the city by nine,” Edward tells me, pulling out of the school parking lot along with the many other Bentleys and town cars. It’s a prestigious school, one I pay handsomely for them to attend, but it’s the best around and they deserve the very best of everything.

  I nod and grunt back, not wanting to make any conversation as I unlock my cell and catch up on the emails that have been sent during the night and early morning.

  I get into a rhythm of checking and replying, while trying to take a few calls in between, and before I know it, we’re in the city.

  Edward stops the car in front of the tall office building—it’s one giant tower made of windows, the frames a polished silver color. It’s sleek and modern, and stands out amongst all the other buildings. The giant letters that spell out “CARTER ENTERPRISES” sit above the entrance in a darker matte silver.

  I push out of the car before Edward has the chance to get out himself and open the door for me. He always tries to do it even though I’ve told him time and time again that he doesn’t need to, but he still tries to whenever he can.

  “I’ll be working late tonight, be here at six thirty, please, Edward.”

  “Okay.” He nods just before I close the car door.

  My cell pings several times before I finish the ten steps to the front of the building but I ignore them all and look around the lobby area for my assistant, knowing that she’ll be there waiting for me with several more messages and a rundown of how my day is going to play out.

  I feel the atmosphere around me change, the chatter quieting down as everyone’s gaze snaps down to the floor as they see me scanning the area. The long white desk that takes up most of the left-hand side wall seats four people behind it, all busily talking into headsets or dealing with the waiting visitors.

  The whole building is owned by Carter Enterprises. The lower levels house the engineers who make all of the software that we sell and own. Then as it moves up the levels you have the advertising department and sales department. We even have a store on one floor; it’s in the BETA stage right now, but I’m liking the idea of it more and more as we watch it go from strength to strength.

  The top floors are reserved for offices, mainly heads of the different departments. That’s where mine sits. As the CEO, I have the entire top floor that houses my large office, prototype corner and a large meeting room. I’m sure the board are already there for our weekly meeting, waiting to hear more about the BETA store.

  I tilt my head stiffly, greeting Catiya as she walks up to me and I listen intently to the rundown of my day, making noises in the back of my throat so that she knows that I’m listening.

  I jab the button for the elevator and tap my foot impatiently as we wait for the doors to open.

  Catiya reeling off my day has me dreading it more and more. Meeting with the board, conference call with the UK and Japanese office, and a meeting with a potential client.

  “Your… your mother called, she wants to know when you’re next free to visit with the children.” Catiya’s bright blue eyes lift to mine apprehensively as she pushes some of her almost white hair behind her ear.

  “Goddamnit.” I let my head fall back, ignoring what she said and spin on the spot, narrowing my eyes as I stare out of the windows that line the front of the building.

  Where is this damn elevator?

  I start to turn away but stop when my eye catches something and I do a double take, taking a step forward, my nostrils flaring.

  I watch as a woman dressed in a brightly colored skirt almost runs past the floor to ceiling windows, swerving in and out of all the people in suits that line the sidewalk. She stands out like a sore thumb but it’s not that that gains my attention. It’s the dive my stomach takes as I watch her flit past. Her hair is piled up high on the top of her head and her arms are flailing about as if she’s talking to herself. It’s the way she walks, the way her arm moves about, almost animated that makes me wonder… No, it can’t be; I must be seeing things.

  I shake my head and turn back to face the elevators but something in my gut tells me that I’m right, and by the time my body catches up with my brain and I look out the windows into the sea of dark colors swarming past again, I’m too late... she’s gone.

  The pinging of the elevator doors catches my attention and I step inside, looking back out at the windows; that strange feeling still swirling around in my stomach.

  I punch the button for my floor, my mind not on anything but the past. I try my hardest to forget but I can’t stop the images from flying through my mind like a movie reel.

  I barely hear what Catiya is saying and I’m still not concentrating fully when I step into the board meeting ten minutes later.

  My mind whirls with questions.

  Could it really be her? Why the hell is she back?

  Standing at the head of the table, I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. It doesn’t matter if she’s back. What we used to have was over a long time ago; I don’t want her back here dragging up the past. I have two children and a business to concentrate on, and even forgetting about that, I know she will never forgive me. What I did to her was unforgivable.

  I still don’t forgive me.

  Clay, Amelia, and I shuffle along with the rest of the people that are waiting to pass their tickets to the lone person that is standing at the large, wooden double doors of the theater. As we move forward, we hear someone whistle.

  My head snaps around to where the sound came from, searching for who the culprit is, although I should have known that only Nate—my best friend from col
lege and the kids’ uncle—would have whistled like that.

  “Wait up!” he shouts, waving his arms in the air frantically as he pushes through the crowd of people, earning him some dirty looks and a few choice words about pushing in front of them.

  “Nate,” I say, shaking my head when he comes to a stop in front of us. He always has to demand all of the attention anywhere he goes. “Do you have to be so… so...”

  He raises a brow. “So, what? Good-looking?” He swipes his hands down his chest, raising his brows up and down in their own dance.

  Amelia snorts and turns around as we make it to the door, holding her hand out to me for the tickets.

  I stare at Nate for a beat longer, my eyes narrowing on him before I pass Amelia the tickets and she hands them to the woman who punches a hole in them, nodding at us to go ahead.

  As we make our way inside, Nate is still listing off things about himself, none of us taking notice of him as we walk up the stairs, finding a seat halfway up and in the middle, right in front of the stage.

  “Where’s your mom?” he asks, searching for her as if she’ll turn up at any second.

  I run my hand down my face, already irritated with him being here. “She’s away in Japan, sourcing new material,” I answer, but what I really want to say is that I wouldn’t have wanted her here anyway.

  He nods his head and then shouts, “I can’t wait to see this!” Causing more heads to turn toward us.

  “Will you stop?” I grind out, leaning over Clay as I stare at Nate with murder in my eyes. I’m on the edge, balancing on a thin beam, ready to fall off at any second.

  His eyes widen and he holds his hands up in the air in surrender.

  Leaning back, I shake my head and let out a breath. Why it couldn’t be only Clay and me here, I don’t know. I feel like I’m losing more and more control over everything lately, and I don’t like it one bit.

  Nate suddenly claps his hands together and I turn my head slowly to face him, watching as he opens the backpack he brought with him, pulling drinks and candy out.

  “What the…”

  “What?” He snaps his gaze to mine. “I’m not paying the prices they charge at these things.” He scoffs like it’s a ridiculous notion.

  “I… I can’t even…”

  “Do you have peanut butter cups, Uncle Nate?” Clay asks.

  “Do I have them?” He raises his brows, a smirk lifting the side of his lips before handing him three packets. “Of course I do!” He hands him a can of soda and a packet of chips as well before continuing to pull more things out of the bag.

  What the hell kind of bag is it? A Mary Poppins bag? I can only imagine what he’ll pull out next.

  He finally settles back into the dark red, velvet covered seat after handing each of us something to eat and drink—although I refused—before popping a straw in his own drink and making a slurping noise that has me gritting my teeth.

  “Nate!” I narrow my eyes at him as he lets the straw drop out of his mouth, his eyes wide and innocent.

  “What?”

  “Must you be so goddamn noisy?” My voice is practically a growl and I know he can see that I’m on edge, yet he’s still pushing it.

  He points at his chest, mock outrage on his face before looking around at a smirking Amelia before turning back to Clay and me.

  “Yes, you.” I shake my head, cursing under my breath and taking Clay’s open can of soda from him before he knocks it over.

  Nate makes the slurping noise again and I whip my head back to face him, giving him a death stare. I swear, if he doesn’t stop it then I’m going to shove that straw so far up his—

  “Sorry!” He places his drink down, holding his hands up in the air before winking at Amelia.

  He’s doing it on fucking purpose.

  “You’re such a child,” Amelia tells him.

  “I know.” He smirks, proud of the fact and then starts to tell her all about the new addition to his office, some kind of running track that an intern came up with. He’s practically bouncing up and down in his seat when the lights go dark and the music starts to thrum throughout the theater.

  Silence reigns around us as the dark red curtains start to pull open and a spotlight is shined on the stage.

  “When is Izzie on?” Clay asks, trying his hardest to whisper as he leans closer to me.

  I look down at the program that was left on the seat, trying to find out when Izzie will be on and finally finding her name on the second page near the end.

  “She’s on eighth with her group,” I whisper back to Clay.

  He rolls his eyes, popping another peanut butter cup into his mouth and watching the young girl on stage as she twirls around, her dress flowing around her and then whipping to the side as she comes to a stop.

  We sit and watch, counting down the dances until Izzie comes on, my stomach fluttering with nerves at seeing her in her first big show. The last time I was in a theater like this, it was to watch Natalia’s show not long after we got married.

  I swallow against the dryness of my throat as the images of her dancing on the stage and me sitting in the chair, still consumed with anger over the situation rained down on me. Things were so different back then, if only I had—

  My thoughts are ripped from me when I see Izzie; arms wide, her feet pointed as she dance-walks across the stage and gets into her starting position.

  The dark blue and green costume that she’s wearing is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen her wear and her hair is up in a bun, slicked back to her head. Her eyes scan the theater, and I know she’s looking for us. I want to wave my arm in the air and stand up to show her where we are, but I refrain, knowing that all it will do is cause her to lose concentration on what she’s doing.

  Her arms lift up and down to the beat of the music, making the flowy material she’s wearing at her wrists move with her. She twirls and leaps up in the air to the haunting beat of the music, her timing impeccable. She lands on one leg, her other leg stretching behind her at a ninety-degree angle as she dips her head to the floor, extending her leg up to the ceiling.

  There’s two beats before the other girls in her group walk out of the wings. She joins them as they all dance in a circle, their arms and bodies moving to the deep bass beat that echoes around us, the seats vibrating with its intensity.

  She moves to the middle of the circle, her arms extending above her head before she lets them float down gently, matching in time with the cello that is playing behind the beat before she dips to the floor, her arms moving back above her head as her back bows and she rolls over.

  I watch her intently, a lump forming in my throat at her ability to tell a story through her fluid movements.

  She stands up, her head turned toward the ceiling as the circle comes to a stop and another dancer comes from the left wing, heading into the middle next to Izzie. She opens her arms wide, making all of the little dancers fall to the floor just before the spotlight turns off and the stage turns black.

  Goose bumps spread across my skin as I watch Nate, Amelia, and Clay stand up, clapping and whistling. I can’t get up, I’m still sitting here mesmerized by her and caught in my memories of the past.

  “That’s my niece!” Nate shouts.

  His voice brings me out of my own head and I stand, clapping loudly. I’m so incredibly proud of her; she dances like it’s her life, like it’s all that she is—just like her mom used to. At the age of five, I had no idea that she could dance like that. No matter how many times her teacher tells me that she’s talented and should have private lessons, I didn’t think anything of it.

  I thought that she wanted to earn more money; the name Carter bringing dollar signs to her eyes, but now I can see that she was right; my Izzie is amazing.

  Once the show is over and all of the dancers have given a bow at the end, I make my way down to the stage, Izzie spotting me right away and running down the stairs, barreling toward me.

  “Did you see me, Daddy!”

>   I pick her up, holding her against my chest as I spin around to face Amelia, Nate, and Clay. “We did! You were amazing, pumpkin!”

  “Do you think?” she asks, her voice a whisper and her brows drawn down into a frown.

  “I don’t think,” I say. “I know!” I kiss her cheek, my eyes misting over as I stare at her, seeing Natalia in her eyes. “I think your teacher is right.”

  “She is?”

  “Uh huh. You need more dance classes.” I frown and clear my throat, realizing that I’m making the decision for her. “That’s if you want to, of course.”

  “Yeah! I do! I love dancing so much!”

  She pulls me closer, her little arms wrapping around my neck before she leans away toward Nate.

  “I can’t believe what my princess can do,” he says, pulling her to his chest in the same way that I did. “You looked just like your mommy.”

  My head whips around to him as I hear my name being called, but I ignore it, focusing on what Nate is saying.

  “Did you like it, Uncle Nate?”

  “Yeah, I did!”

  “Mr. Carter?” I spin around at the soft voice and come face to face with Izzie’s dance teacher.

  Her dark brown hair is up in a bun—much like all of the students—and she has lightly-applied makeup gracing her face, the focus being on her dark blue eyes.

  “Miss Zoe.” I nod, meeting her gaze as I shake her hand but my attention’s not really on her.

  “What did you think of Izzie’s dancing?”

  I turn to face Izzie who is now being cuddled by Amelia, a giant smile on her face as she talks to her before turning back to Nate.

  “She’s amazing,” I tell her.

  “She is, isn’t she?” I turn back to Miss Zoe. “I was wondering if you had time to think about those one-on-one classes that I mentioned a few weeks ago?”

  I widen my stance, catching sight of all the other kids as their parents meet them off the stage. There’s so many dancers here of all capabilities, yet it’s Izzie she sees something in.

  “Let’s do them.”

  “Great!” Her lips lift into a smile before her gaze meets Izzie’s. “I think a forty-five-minute session after her normal dance class would work out really well.” I nod in reply as she takes a step toward Izzie. “You were incredible, sweetie.”