Page 9 of The Perfect Mistake

“Cancel most of my plans and start interviewing replacements. That’ll take at least a week, too, if not longer.” I rub the back of my neck. A tension headache is setting in at my temples. Great. I’ll have to ask my housekeeper to help with babysitting duties, and that’s on top of her already long days running the apartment and cooking meals.

“Do you have to go through the whole vetting process?”

I give Connie a withering glare. “I won’t leave my children with a random stranger.”

“Of course not, that’s not what I’m suggesting… Just that, is a written test and a physical exam really necessary?”

“I have never asked for either.”

“Just about,” she says. Then her face lights up. “Okay, I have an idea. It’s a unique solution to this problem, but I think it would work.”

I lean back in my chair. “All right. Tell me what it is, so I can dismiss it.”

“Promise you’ll let me finish.” She taps her nails against the folder of papers with rhythmic precision. “You know my friend Isabel.”

Surprise ripples through me, but I mask it behind a tight expression. That name is the last one I would have expected to come up in this conversation. She seems to be everywhere lately. At the studio… And in thoughts my mind has entertained since seeing her last week. The memory of her dancing in the sunlight intruded at the most inopportune times.

I cross my arms over my chest. “What about her?”

“Her injury means she can no longer dance. At least not for the next few months, so she’s in the market for a job.”

Ah. Maybe that’s what she had cried about. Not just the injury, but the realization she wouldn’t be dancing again. Judging by what I’ve seen, that’s a fucking travesty.

But I shake my head. “I only hire live-in nannies.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem for her at all,” Connie says.

“I doubt she has the right expertise. You know I only hire people with a lot of experience in childcare. Isabel is a dancer.”

“She has two younger siblings, so she has experience,” Connie says. “She’s also the calmest and most responsible person I know. Willa wants to learn ballet, right? Isabel can teach her. She might be the only nanny Willa will tolerate.”

It makes a modicum of sense. Even I can see that.

But it should still be a non-starter. Accepting this option will invite trouble of the worst kind, into my home. Getting thoughts of her out of my head will be impossible if she’s sleeping a few rooms down from me.

The suggestion shouldn’t appeal to me.

It shouldn’t.

“She’s your friend,” I say. “Since when do we mix business and pleasure?”

That stumps Connie for a moment. She leans back, eyes thoughtful. But then she nods. “That’s a good thing, here, since I can vouch for her. But it’s not like the two of you are friends. Your relationship will be strictly professional. It’s the perfect solution,” Connie says.

The image of Isabel dancing flashes through my mind again. The way she’d felt in my arms as I pulled her to her feet. Her tear-filled brown eyes. Her soft voice.

The final argument isn’t one I can articulate. Not to anyone, and especially not to my little sister. I can barely do so to myself. She will be a temptation. A beautiful, intriguing temptation who’s been beguiling me for years.

But I’ve met beautiful women before, and it’s never thrown me off. It won’t now. Not when it’s a woman far too young for me, my sister’s best friend, and an employee. I’ve never been a slave to my emotions, and I’m not about to start now.

Not to mention, I’m not looking for any kind of personal entanglement. My wife died five years ago, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that relationships are costly. When they inevitably end, they’ll take everything out of you. Your peace, your sanity, your happiness… and your heart.

Resolve hardens my spine into steel.

“Call her,” I say. “Can she be here for an interview this afternoon?”

My sister smiles and reaches for her phone. “On it.”

Odds are Isabel won’t last more than a week anyway. What’s the worst that can happen?

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