Page 37 of One Sweet Lie

“Can’t you let us sit in a private VIP booth away from everyone else?” I begged. “It’s not like anyone has to know we’re there, and Sasha wouldn’t tell a soul. My boss is being an utter jerk, and all I need is twenty minutes with some adults and some hard liquor.”

“I doubt the kids you’re nannying would enjoy this environment at all.”

“So, if I bring along some toys for them, you’ll let us in?”

He hung up.

FOURTEEN

HARLOW

Twenty-Eight Dirty Diapers Later

Irefreshed my savings account for what had to be the umpteenth time this morning.

Look at all that money, Harlow. You’re doing this for the money, and for your future bakery. Fuck your sanity right now, just focus on the money.

“I think Miss Hawthorne is broken, Uncle Brooks.” Olivia’s soft voice was coming from somewhere. “She’s been talking to herself for over an hour now.”

“Has she said anything insightful?” His voice filled the twins’ nursery.

“Not yet. I’m taking notes, though.”

He let out a low laugh, and I hated—HATED—how my body instantly turned on against my will. How it couldn’t seem to understand that the man who was making my life a living hell should never be allowed to arouse me in any way.

“Can you ask her where she got those unicorn cupcakes she brought over during her interview?” Olivia asked. “I’ve orderedfrom like eighty bakeries so far, and none of them have come close.”

“Why can’tyouask her?”

“I did. She spouted off a long list of ingredients and instructions,” she said. “You might want to send her back to the agency before the twins wake up. She looks like she’s about to crack.”

“I’ll consider it,” he said. “Can you give us a moment alone, please?”

The next thing I heard were her soft Chanel flats clacking down the hallway.

“Miss Hawthorne?” Mr. Dawson moved in front of the rocking chair.

I tried to look away from him, but he bent down low and looked into my eyes, making it impossible.

“Do I need to have my doctor come see you?” he asked.

“Only if he can prescribe a week off for me.”

“He can’t.” He smiled at me, and I was convinced this was a dream.

He’d never looked at me this way before, and he actually sounded genuinely concerned.

“Why are you home so early?” I asked. “It’s two o’clock in the afternoon.”

“Because I’ve been thinking about what you said to me.”

“I’ve saida lotof things to you.”

“Yes, well…” He brushed strands of hair off my forehead and tucked them behind my ear.

My heart raced at that simple touch, and I swallowed hard.

“Taking care of children is a very hard job,” he said. “So hard that I had to hire someone like you to help me do it.”

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