Page 21 of The Perfect Mistake

None of the other nannies have ever caused this. They were employees. I spoke to them about the kids, the practicalities, and they reported to me. And none of them ever sat on my couch in tiny shorts and a braid that would look good wrapped around my—

What the hell is wrong with me?

“I’ll turn off the TV,” she says. “Sorry, I wanted to be closer to the kids’ rooms in case they woke up again. You know, before you got home.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say again. “What are you watching?”

She sinks back on the couch. “Um, Gilmore Girls.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a TV show. About a mother and a daughter who live in this small, idyllic New England town.”

I grip my glass and walk closer to the couch. Her voice has the same calming, soft tenor it always has. She even talks gracefully, I think. Just like she dances. I can see her moving in my mind’s eye, in the emptiness of that dance studio, with nothing but sunlight illuminating her form. “Tell me more,” I prompt.

Her dark eyebrows rise. “About the show?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. It has a large cast of side characters, including the mom’s parents. They’re rich and traditional while she’s not, so there’s constant conflict there. And then, there are men, of course.”

“Men,” I repeat. There’s a space beside her on the couch, but that’s a line I shouldn’t cross. I take another sip of my drink instead.

She turns to me and nods, a smile on her lips. “Yeah. Both the mom and the daughter have love interests. They’re both young—the mom was a teen mother. So there’s a lot of intrigue. Fans can be Team Jess, or Team Logan, or… I can’t imagine you really want to hear about this.”

“I don’t. But it’s nice to—” I cut off, and clear my throat. Hear you talk? Seriously, what is my problem? Everything, apparently, since I go against my better instincts for a second time.

I sit down next to her on the couch. “So, you like this show?”

“Yeah. I’ve watched it before, but it’s nice to rewatch.” She’s looking at me, but I keep my eyes on the screen. Take another sip of my drink.

We sit in silence for a few long minutes.

“How did tonight go?” she asks gently.

I want to avoid the question. Glancing down at the whiskey in my hand, I hate myself for pouring it. Things shouldn’t get to me anymore. I don’t have time to feel.

“As good as it could’ve.”

“Family dinner…, right?” There’s a faint smile in her voice. “Sorry. I spoke to Connie this morning.”

The two of them being friends is going to complicate things. I always knew that, and I still hired Isabel. But I need to make sure I never forget it. “Yeah.” I twist the glass around. “The wedding party is soon.”

“This weekend,” Isabel agrees. “I take it ‘Operation: Convince Dad’ hasn’t gone well.”

That makes me scoff. “That’s what Connie called it?”

“Um, I might have said that.” Her voice is tentative. “So, not good, huh? I’m sorry.”

It’s said so earnestly that I glance over at her. Isabel’s dark-brown eyes are steady on mine, waiting. She knows most of the story already. Connie married the son of Contron’s biggest competitor. He’s involved in his family business. Connie works for us.

Our father took it as a very particular kind of betrayal.

“No,” I say. “It didn’t go great. My dad still considers Connie’s husband a… Nevermind. He won’t say it to either of their faces, of course, but attending their wedding party is more than he’s willing to do.”

My voice has hardened by the end of that statement. He’s being obstinate, recalcitrant, incompassionate.

He’s being everything he taught us to be, and I hate him for it.

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