Page 100 of The Nanny Goal

“Harper has volunteered to host it at her house. I’ve got the decorations organized, but I could use some help on the menu planning.”

“I’m in. Do you want to come over for dinner one night while the team is away this coming week?”

“One night?” Shannon teases. “You might find yourself feeding me every night.”

I laugh. “Dinner isn’t Inessa’s favourite time of day. You might find it exhausting.”

She gives me a scrutinizing look. “Will I?”

I shrug. “Some do.”

“But you don’t?”

“No,” I say, surprising myself. “Maybe it’s because I’ve been spending all day with her? So I get the good stuff, too? But I can see how she’s tired, I get thewhyof tantrums. She doesn’t have the vocabulary yet to explain her big feelings, and even if she could, a lot of what she wants just isn’t possible.”

“The world doesn’t cater to the whims of two-year-olds,” Shannon says dryly.

“Deeply unfair.” I look at my sleeping charge. “She’s really very sweet. Especially at lunch time, if you can swing that instead of dinner.”

Shannon giggles and nods. “Noted. But I don’t mind a glimpse into a challenging dinner hour, either.” A lovely glow blooms from deep inside her, softening her expression. “We talk about kids, you know. Or at least one kid. I’m not in a rush, obviously.” She waves down at the ice. “I need Max to be fully out of my life first. There’s some family court legal stuff that is going to take longer than I’d like. And Russ is thinking he might retire next year or the year after, so…if we wait until then, he’ll be more hands-on. But I look forward to learning about things like tantrums.”

My mouth has fallen open. “Shannon!”

She laughs and nods. “I know. I know I know I know.”

“I’m so happy for you both.”

“One thing at a time.” But her expression is now so blissful, after what was a really hard day.

I press my hand to my chest and sigh.

She smiles. “What about you?”

“What about me?” My voice shakes a little, worried that I’ve revealed too much of my feelings for Alexei.

“What comes after Switzerland?”

I exhale in relief. “Oh.”

Her eyebrows arch up. “What did you think I meant?”

“Nothing. Um…” I shrug. “I’m not sure. It depends how long I can work in Europe for, which depends on how well my placements go. Switzerland is just the first step down a path that hasn’t fully revealed itself yet.”

“That’s exciting.”

“It really is. I like tackling short term projects. It’s what I thought being a personal chef would be.”

“But it wasn’t?”

I shook my head. “I mean, I did get hired for some one-off events, but the bulk of the market in Minneapolis was more about regular customers, and…” I shrug. “It stopped being exciting. People wanted the same things over and over again, and I’m not the right chef for that.”

“Cooking for a hockey player must be hard, then.”

“Not at all. Alexei isn’t a client.”

I hear myself say it at the same time she does.

She doesn’t react to that, just waits.

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