Page 13 of The Perfect Mistake

Great.

Not nervous at all.

It’s been ages since I babysat. I must have been seventeen or eighteen at the time. Now, I’m twenty-five. Lots of things have changed since then.

The bell rings, and the doors of the school open. Uniformed children pour out en masse. The smallest come first, and I crane my neck to look for Sam. He’s in kindergarten, and I should be able to spot him…

“He’s the one with the giant blue backpack,” Mac says. “To the left.”

Oh. There he is, with a mop of auburn hair so similar to Connie’s, and yes, a too-big backpack. His uniform consists of navy shorts and a light-blue button-down. He looks like a little scout.

He’s talking to a friend as they head toward the gate. Showtime. I move through the crowd.

“Sam?” I ask with a smile. “Hey. I’m here with Mac to pick you up.”

He looks up at me with hazel eyes and a mouth that’s shaped like an O. For a second, it’s hard to imagine he’s Alec’s son. He’s all soft cheeks and round glasses.

“Okay,” he says and falls in step beside me.

Well, that was easy. “I’m Isabel. It’s nice to meet you.”

He nods and then he sees Mac. His legs speed up until he reaches the driver.

“Hey, buddy,” Mac says and holds up a hand. They high-five. “Got your homework?”

Right. They do this every single day.

Sam gets into the car without protest and happily accepts the granola bar I give him, per the instructions in the brief.

Willa’s next. I recognize her the second she comes out of the school. She’s wearing a plaid skirt and white button-down like all the other girls, and her brown hair is in a ponytail. She’s talking to a few other girls her age, and they’re walking close, heads bent together as they chat.

I wave hello.

She spots me. Her eyes are unreadable before she turns back to her friends. It’s another five minutes before she walks toward Mac and me.

“Hi, Willa,” I say. “I’m Isabel. I’m—”

“The new nanny. I know.” She steps past me.

“That’s right. I’m a friend of your aunt Connie.”

Willa looks at me with a blank expression. “Really?”

“Yes, really. We’ve been neighbors for years.”

“What does she look like?”

“Your aunt? She’s got hair like your little brother’s, she’s a bit taller than I am, and has green eyes.”

Willa doesn’t acknowledge my response. “Have you met my dad?”

“Yes, several times. I saw him just yesterday at his office.”

She frowns, and for a second, I think she’s about to say something else, but she just turns on her heel and walks to the car. The kids don’t seem to have a problem picking out which black car is theirs.

The drive back to Alec’s apartment is uneventful. Sam talks to Mac in happy tones, telling him stories from his day that only occasionally actually make sense. Willa looks out the window while sitting perfectly still.

I wonder how many times they’ve done this. Had a new nanny walk into their life and pick them up from school.

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