Page 4 of The Homemaker
“You’re welcome, Mr. Morrison,” I say with a confident smile.
As soon as he’s out the door, Vera rolls her eyes. “He won’t be gone long. He schedules two business meetings a week. The rest of the time he’s either golfing or in his study glued to his computer until the stock market closes for the day. Anyway …” She flicks her wrist and rattles off a long list of things that need to be done to prepare for Blair and her fiancé’s arrival.
After I commit them to memory and return the last clean dish to its spot, Vera slides on her sunglasses and hooks her purse over her arm. “And please remember,” she says just as I head toward their bedroom to make the bed and tidy up the bathroom and closet.
“Yes?” I turn.
“Your job title is house manager. And if Blair asks about your attire, please tell her it’s your preference.”
“Of course, Mrs. Morrison.”
“Blair wouldn’t understand a hiredhomemakerdressed like a housewife from 1950.”
“House manager it is.” I knew this job wouldn’t disappoint.
Chapter Three
Murphy
The heart has a flawless memory.
Plan accordingly.
I don’t knowwhy Blair agreed to stay with her parents for the summer. She and her mom can plan the wedding via phone, text, and video chat. Not that I’m complaining about returning to Minnesota. It’s my favorite place on Earth, but Blair and her dad constantly exchange barbs.
“Be nice,” Blair says, blowing out a long breath before opening the car door.
“Are you talking to me?”
She opens one eye. “No. I’m giving myself a pep talk. You’re fine. My parents love you because you’re annoyingly agreeable.” She grins and steps out of the white Mercedes SUV, adjusting her tight jeans and pink sleeveless blouse.
I open the back to retrieve our luggage. “You used to call my agreeabilityendearing. What happened?”
“Babe, I want you to agree with me, not with my father.”
“I don’t agree with your father. See? Look at me being perfectly agreeable with you.” I set the suitcases on the ground and close the back.
“Staying out of my arguments with my father is the same as agreeing with him in his eyes. He thinks if you agree with me, you’d say as much. So feel free tosay as much.”
“And risk him kicking me out of his golfing foursome this summer?”
Blair leads the way to the front door, flipping her long, blond hair over her shoulder along with a scowl for me as her rhinestone flip-flops scuff against the pavers.
I laugh. My fiancée is fiery and sexy as hell, but around her dad, she’s a nuclear warhead.
“Who’s that?” She stops a few feet from the front door, slides her sunglasses down her nose, and glances to the right.
A woman in a yellow dress and white apron, armed with pruning shears, snips pink roses and deposits them into a small bucket. She sets the shears on the ground and squints at the clouds while adjusting her silky, auburn ponytail.
“How would I know?” I ask.
Blair drops her hand from her forehead and opens the door for me.
“Darling,” Vera coos, opening her arms to Blair.
“Hi, Mother.”
“How was the drive?” Vera asks.
