Page 15 of Mind Pucked

The two of us had a major disagreement when he wanted Preston to be declared dead. I told him it was too soon. Well, I didn’t just tell him, really. I screeched it at him and even went as far as threatening to punch his nose and break it.

I’m not proud of my behavior, but I still stand by the fact that it was probably too soon. It made it way too easy for detectives to dismiss everything they found at the site of the accident.

“He’s okay.” My mother shifts uncomfortably, looking away and using that uncomfortable high-pitched tone of hers. As if it willget me off the topic. Doesn’t she know it just makes me even more interested in whatever she’s hiding?

“Well, I wish you’d elaborate, but I doubt you will. How about you tell Dad that I’d actually like to see him every once in a while, can you do that?”

She nods, picking at fingernails that definitely don’t need it. If she keeps doing that, the false nails will just pop right off.

“Well, I just wanted to drop by and give this to you. Your father and I have somewhere to be. In fact, he’s got a doctor’s appointment. I’ve got to take him.”

I raise my eyebrows. My father’s not the type to go to the doctor unless it’s something serious. “Something wrong?”

She looks down and shakes her head. “No, of course not. He’s just been carrying a little bit of weight about…”

She trails off, never finishing what she meant to say. Instead, she gets up and gives me a hug, stilted at best, and then leaves.

I blink at the doorway for a few moments after she leaves, my brain trying to catch up with what just happened.

Breeze in and breeze out. The way my mother’s always done for my whole life and with all the people she knows. But I have to say—I did miss her and my father while I was away. It’s nice to know they still care, even if sometimes it feels like they treat me like I was second best to Preston.

I’m about to go into the kitchen to make some lunch, a late one at that, when my phone starts to ring. I go to look at it, and see that it’s Jackson. I immediately pick up the phone, trying to figure out how to make my voice sound not at all nervous and definitely excited for the job.

Good Lord, Amelia, you’re overthinking this.

“Hello?”

“Is this Amelia?” he says. His voice is husky, almost sexy, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s perpetually angry.

“This is she.”

“This is Jackson, from the nanny interview. Hayden’s father.”

I catch myself nodding along to each explanation he gives. It’s as if he thinks I don’t remember him. But maybe he thinks I interviewed for multiple nanny jobs. I shouldn’t take it personally.

“Yes, it’s good to hear from you.”

“If you’re still interested, I’d like to offer you the job taking care of Hayden. But the catch is that I need you to start within the next week. Are you available?”

I try not to jump for joy. This doesn’t only fix all my money problems, it gets me one step closer to finding out what happened to Preston. “Yeah, I’m free to start right away. Is there anything specific you need from me?”

“No. Just know that technically the first day will be a working interview. You’re hired, and I’m not talking to anyone else, but I just have to be careful.”

He doesn’t say the rest, but I know how protective he is from talking to Quinn and from observing Hayden’s behavior. It’s interesting that Hayden is supposedly so traumatized by what happened when she was so little. It makes me wonder what secrets I’m going to uncover.

Well, I’ll get to dig deeper down the rabbit hole now. “Absolutely. That’s not a problem.”

“How’s Wednesday?”

“That’ll work.”

Before I can thank him, he’s already hung up. Figures.

I run the conversation back in my head, as well as the interview. I was never exactly close to Jackson. And due to our age difference, I wasn’t as close to Preston as I would have liked to be during most of the time that Jackson was around.

Jackson must not know who I am. He’s not giving me any reason to make me believe that he does. Of course, this will help me out, because he’ll trust me more so I can get more information. But I can’t say it doesn’t upset me just a little bit that there’s not even an inkling of any idea who I might be, especially considering my last name. But then again, Williams isn’t exactly an uncommon last name.

Before I put my phone down, it buzzes, letting me know I have a text message. I unlock it and take a look, seeing that it’s from Brooke, my best friend.

---