Page 139 of The Perfect Mistake

I’ve heard from Connie that her father rarely stays in the apartment the entire family once lived in. After she left for college, and he retired, it became a place only visited on major holidays.

Sam walks close beside me. He has a starched shirt on, the collar crisp against his neck, and a pair of blue chinos. It almost looks like his school uniform.

I know my role here. I’m to help with the kids, but as I glance at Alec and spot the tenseness in his jaw, I wonder if it’s not to help him, too.

His brother had flown in from London. Nate’s the first to greet us, swinging Sam up into his arms and ruffling Willa’s hair. She pushes him away in response, and he laughs.

“You used to love it when I did that.”

“No, I never have,” she announces.

He chuckles again. “Well, you were younger then.” He and Alec hug in that one-armed, half-assed way that grown men often do.

“Connie’s not coming?” Alec asks.

Nate shakes his head. There’s a wry expression on his lips, and his gaze flicks quickly to me before returning to Alec. “No. She said Dad didn’t invite her.”

Alec lets out a soft groan. “His stubbornness will be the death of me.”

“She’s standing her ground. It’s cool to see,” Nate says. Then he gives me a proper hug. “And you brought the lovely Isabel. It’s always nice to see you.”

“You, too,” I say. In some ways, he’s very much like Alec—the suits, the confidence, the Connovan composure—but he’s the smiling one, the charming version.

Alec walks ahead with the kids to where voices rise. Nate and I follow, walking past a giant grandfather clock that ticks with rhythmic sounds.

“I know this family can be a lot,” Nate says. “Constance, Alec, our father… maybe even me.”

That makes me smile. “Maybe?”

“I’m willing to concede that I might have a flaw or two, yeah. Don’t tell my siblings.”

“I’ll take the secret to my grave.”

He nods. Runs a hand over his jaw and looks ahead to where Alec is now talking to his father. The nervousness that has been living inside me for days, a silent and unwelcome partner, reaches a new level.

I’ve never met this man, but I’ve heard plenty about him.

“Alec is loyal to the bone,” Nate says, “and he doesn’t do anything lightly. But he’s not one to open up easily. Never has been…”

I nod. “Yeah, I’m learning that.”

Nate chuckles. “I think he’s worth it, though, if you stick it out. Not that I’ve ever dated him. I’m stuck with him for a very different reason.”

That makes me chuckle. So Nate suspects we’re dating, then? Alec must have told him. My laugh bubbles over stronger than I’d anticipated. Heightened by the anxiety and the somewhat uneasy atmosphere, no doubt, which makes the men in the room turn.

David looks like an older version of his sons, separated by decades and a few inches. His hair is gray, his eyes steely. He glances at me briefly before looking back to Alec.

Right. I’m just the nanny to his grandchildren… not as his son’s date. Because I’m not his son’s date. Nor am I Alec’s girlfriend, or partner, or any kind of word that would signify a future. Not yet.

The dining room table is laden with beautiful decorations. It looks like it could host a family of fifteen, rather than the six of us who are currently here. Something about it feels so decidedly different from the Thanksgiving dinner I’ll be going to tomorrow at my parents’.

The sounds, the setting, the constant questions, the emotions, the arguments that will ensue.

We sit down around the table. I’m seated on the end of the table between Sam and Willa, ready if either needs me. Alec is on Sam’s other side and Nate is opposite him. Which also means David is on the other end of the table… in my direct line of sight.

But the kids behave brilliantly. It’s like they know they’re at their grandfather’s, and different rules apply. The three men discuss business as we cut into the turkey, into sweet potato mash, and gravy. Staff regularly refill our glasses and keep the plates on the table overflowing.

It isn’t until we’re halfway through that their father asks the question.

---