Page 52 of Architect's Christmas Nanny

Take the win,she reminded herself. There were so many people out there who would have loved the chance to be part of a creative writing program. And thanks to her savings over all these years when she had food and housing with Brad and Josie, she could afford to participate.

Only a truly greedy person would moon over Brad instead of being grateful for everything that was going right. For heaven’s sake, he had even helped her land another job with hours that were perfect for going to school at the same time.

And she was inspired and writing again. For the first time in forever, the words were flowing out of her.

Her phone rang and she slid it out of her pocket, smiling when she saw it was Rachel.

“Rachel,” she said, picturing her little sister on the other end of the call, probably with tired eyes, and chubby baby Duncan on her hip. “How’s the little guy?”

“You got in,” Rachel yelled happily.

“I did,” Jillian said, smiling and hugging herself a little. She had sent Rachel a quick text today, but hadn’t expected to hear back. “I’m not really sure why though. Might just be that they need some older students.”

“You’re not even thirty yet, big sis,” Rachel laughed. “You barely count as older. It’s a lot more likely that they just love your writing and they’re glad to get another shot at you.”

“Maybe so,” Jillian said, feeling gratified.

“I’m just so glad you’re writing again,” Rachel said, her voice softer now. “I feel like everything is coming together for you.”

“I thought so too,” Jillian admitted. “And most things are really great right now, so no complaints.”

“Brad,” Rachel said, the sudden seriousness in her tone letting her know it wasn’t a question.

Jillian normally wanted to protect her sister from the struggles in her life. Rachel had plenty on her plate with the baby to care for and her husband away.

But today she craved her sister’s advice, or at least to know she was on the other end of the call, listening. They had relied on each other all their lives. And right now, it felt like only Rachel could truly understand the pain and confusion she felt.

“I can’t explain it,” Jillian said, pacing from the window toward the fireplace as she gave in to her desire to confess. “Things felt different yesterday. I mean, they’ve been feeling different ever since I got here, but yesterday… Yesterday I felt like he was seeing the real me for the first time, not as Josie’s nanny, but as myself, as a woman.”

“Wow, okay,” Rachel said, sounding like she was taking her seriously. “What made you feel that way?”

Rachel would never say it out loud, but Jillian was pretty sure that her sister felt like Jillian’s feelings for Brad werewrapped up in the family they had both craved as kids, or maybe that she was feeling things for him because she didn’t get out enough to meet other people. Hearing her tone now was all the encouragement she needed to keep opening up.

Though she didn’t exactly have solid evidence for her theory.

“I’m not sure,” Jillian admitted. “I guess it was the way he looked at me. Normally, he doesn’t make a lot of eye contact, but yesterday it was like he was trying to see into my soul.”

“And you said he wanted to talk to you?” Rachel asked.

“He went to get Josie settled and told me he wanted to talk afterward,” Jillian went on. “And he had thislookin his eyes. I can’t explain it—it was like he was excited and grounded all at once.”

“What did he say?” Rachel asked.

“That’s just it,” Jillian told her. “When he came back down, he said we could talk later because he had to do some work.”

“Well, maybe he did have to work,” Rachel suggested. “From what you say about him, he’s always working.”

“He used to be,” Jillian said. “But it was supposed to be different here.”

“True,” Rachel said. “But sometimes it’s hard for people like Brad to just turn off that part of themselves. Did he seem disappointed not to be able to talk?”

“No,” Jillian said, shaking her head at the memory. “His face was closed off again, like the last week never happened.”

She ran her hand along the wooden mantel, wondering what Rachel was going to say. Her little sister wasn’t the kind of person to ever sayI told you so.But it had to be hard to watch your big sister wasting away in unrequited love with someone for all these years while you got married, started a life, had a child…

“He’s scared,” Rachel told her instead.

“Of me?” Jillian said, surprised. “I don’t think so.”

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