Page 137 of Nine Week Nanny
I've spent weeks deliberately not looking her up, not asking Angela how she's doing when I see her at Seabreeze, not calling in favors to track her down. The photos destroyed her career asthoroughly as Chris was hoping they would destroy mine. The board doesn't care about my personal life as long as the balance sheets are trending green.
The driver stops at the entrance. "Enjoy your dinner, sir."
I nod, gathering my briefcase with its folder of projections and proposals. Twenty minutes to review them again before the investors arrive.
Twenty minutes to remember why any of this matters.
I step into the kitchen,the low hum of the fridge a welcome greeting after the silence of my early morning flight. The scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, stronger than I usually make it.
Light pours through the windows, catching dust motes swirling in lazy patterns.
Hart sits at the kitchen island, iPad propped against the fruit bowl, reading glasses perched on her nose. She looks up and offers a small nod.
"Morning, Pope. Early flight,” she says as a comment, not a question. “There's coffee if you want some."
"Thanks." I grab a mug from the cabinet. "When did you make this?"
"About twenty minutes ago. Val's still asleep upstairs. Late night with the parrot rescue fundraising call."
I laugh to myself and pour the hot, dark liquid, letting the warmth seep into my palms. "Appreciate you both staying with Lennon."
"No trouble." Hart swipes at her screen, then takes another sip. "We're heading out around ten. Val's friend is opening that gallery in Delray Beach, and we promised to make an appearance."
Footsteps creak overhead. They're soft and measured. I recognize them immediately as Lennon's morning shuffle. It sounds like he got up for the bathroom and went back to bed.
"How's he been?"
Hart looks up, his expression careful. "Quiet yesterday. Didn't want to do much. Margaret dropped him off here after Seabreeze, and we let her go early. I know I always appreciated an early Friday."
My chest tightens. "Thanks for that. I know he loved hanging out with you guys."
"You know it means so much to your mom. I'm glad you asked us to come instead of asking the nanny to stay."
I nod, swallowing against the knot forming in my throat. This is my family, as crazy and mismatched as we are.
Hart sets her iPad down. "He asked about you before bed. Wanted to know exactly when you'd be back."
"I told him I'd be back this morning."
"I can tell he misses you when you're gone." Hart's gaze is steady, neither accusatory nor particularly sympathetic. "You're his hero, you know."
I drain half my coffee in one go, ignoring the burn.
"I should grab a shower before everyone gets up.."
Hart nods, returning to her iPad. "Take your time. Val made a casserole and left instructions on the fridge."
I gesture with my mug in acknowledgment and head for the stairs, the weight of the quiet house settling over me like a too-heavy blanket.
I walkbeside Lennon on the damp sand, my shoes dangling from one hand while he darts ahead, scanning the shoreline. Theafternoon sun casts long shadows across the beach, turning the waves to liquid gold at their crests. He's been collecting shells for nearly an hour, his concentration absolute.
"Look at this one!" Lennon drops to his knees, carefully extracting what looks like a broken sand dollar. "It's perfect."
"It's missing half," I point out.
He turns it over in his small palm. "That's why it's special. You can see all the parts inside."
I sit down beside him as he begins arranging his treasures in a line. The wind carries the scent of salt and sunscreen, and for a moment, everything feels right. Simple.
