Page 45 of The Perfect Mistake

Okay, so she definitely knows who I am. I rack my brain to figure out if I recognize the face, but I can’t place it. “Yes,” I say. “Work has been busy.”

She nods knowingly. “Of course, how couldn’t it be? I read about the recent acquisition of that tech start-up, by the way, in the Business Digest. Contron seems to be doing great this year.”

My eyebrows lift. “Yes, it is.”

“I work in investing. Well, my husband and I both do. Marvin Sullivan? Maybe you know him.”

“The name doesn’t ring a bell, I’m afraid.”

Her smile doesn’t falter. “Oh well, I’d love to introduce you at some point. We like to host—our dinner parties are legendary! I always say, Marvin, let’s not go overboard this time, but then we’re standing there with six dozen oysters and a too-large guest list.” She laughs and puts a hand on my arm. “Really, you should come to one. We only invite interesting people, so there’s always someone to talk to.”

I glance over at Willa. She’s still getting her face painted. “I appreciate the invitation,” I say. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Francis’s hand drops, but her smile remains in perfect place. We’re joined by two other women, slinking effortlessly on either side of Francis. The hair on both is carefully groomed and their smiles even more so.

“Alec,” the blonde one says warmly. “I didn’t know you’d be here!”

Fuck. Am I expected to know these women, too?

“It was a last-minute decision,” I say, glancing over at Willa again. How long does it take?

“Well, we’re all glad you came,” the other one says. “It’s nice to see fathers getting involved in their children’s activities.”

“It definitely is,” the blonde one retorts with another smile in my direction. “Lord knows my ex-husband can’t be bothered.”

Francis nudges the blonde woman softly. “This is Evelyn. She often comes to my dinner parties, actually.”

“Oh yes, I do!” she says. Her eyes glitter. “Are you coming to the next one?”

Jesus.

“Most likely—”

Not.

But I don’t get the final word out, because another person comes up close beside me. Isabel. Her dark hair brushes against my arm.

“Hi,” she says. Her voice is clear and soft, a sharp contrast to the sultry tones of the women in front of me. “The movie is about to start.”

“Oh, well, in that case, you’ll have to excuse me, ladies. I need to get my daughter and some drinks.”

“Of course, we’ll let you go,” Francis says. But then, she does the complete opposite. Her eyes land on Isabel instead. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Francis.”

“Isabel. It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” she says.

Evelyn—was that her name?—looks at me. Her voice is still warm. “Alec, I didn’t know you were bringing someone.”

No, and why the hell would you? Before today, I’ve never spoken to you in my life. Unless I chatted with her at the last parent-teacher conference? I have no memory of the small talk I endured then, only of the information that actually pertained to my kids.

Isabel stiffens beside me, and the words the blonde spoke finally break through my brain fog. Date. They think Isabel is my date. The realization is like cold water dumped over my head.

“Isabel is my children’s new nanny,” I say. “She’s doing an excellent job, and they wanted her to join us tonight.”

The women all exchange polite smiles. But there’s a tension in the air that wasn’t there a few seconds ago, and it feels thick enough to cut with a knife.

Isabel shifts from one foot to the other. They’re looking at her like… oh. Fuck. Now they think I’m sleeping with the nanny. Most of the parents at these events employ babysitters and nannies, but they don’t go to events with them.

“Have a nice night,” I tell the women. Isabel and I get Willa in silence, and she chats happily as we grab a few sodas. A rainbow decorates the left side of her face, spanning toward her forehead, and she looks so happy about it that it’s worth the cajoling I’ll need to do later to get her to wash it off.

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