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Dylan looks less than amused. “Did you just compare taking care of your dog to watching my kid? An undisciplined dog, might I add.”
I huff in annoyance. “Is your opinion of me so low that you seriously doubt my ability to look after your daughter for a few hours each morning? Lola means a lot to me, and I would never do anything to jeopardize her safety. You should know that by now.”
Evidently, I said something right because he visibly relaxes, even if only a little.
Johanna silently watches our exchange with a bemused expression.
“Daddy, please say Marlow can be my new nanny, pretty please?” Lola implores.
“Yeah, Dylan, pretty please,” I add with a smirk.
“This is going to end in a disaster,” he mutters under his breath. “Fine. But it’s only temporary until the agency can find a long-term solution, got it?”
“Got it,” Lola and I say in unison.
I’ll just have to prove that I’m as capable as any professional nanny. Lola already likes me, so at least I have one thing going for me.
“And Waffles stays at your place. I don’t want him destroying my house while I’m at work,” Dylan says.
Lola frowns but doesn’t argue.
“That’s fine,” I agree.
“Can you start in the morning?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Oh, thank you, Daddy.” Lola throws her arms around Dylan’s waist. “I’m so excited I could burst.”
Her enthusiasm means everything.
Johanna leans in to whisper in my ear. “Don’t worry, Marlow. Once Dylan sees how wonderful you are with Lola, he’ll be begging you to stay.”
I ignore the nagging suspicion that she’s not talking about me being Lola’s nanny.
7
DYLAN
I PACE THE LENGTH OF the floral runner in my entryway, stopping at the edge before turning around and striding to the other end. It’s 5:55 a.m., and I told Marlow to be here by 6:00 a.m.
This is a terrible idea.
I temporarily lost my sanity last night when I saw her walking by herself in that ridiculous pink puffer coat of hers. My protective instincts kicked in, prompting me to suggest she choose warmer outerwear and stress the importance of being more alert of her surroundings.
That should have been the end of it, but naturally, my mother misread the situation, assuming my actions had a different meaning. Which led her to agreeing with the silly notion that Marlow should be Lola’s nanny. I’m sure she’s hoping that our being in close proximity will lead to something more. She’s going to be sorely disappointed when this doesn’t work out how she envisioned.
While I might have misjudged Marlow, I have reservations about her watching Lola. She openly acknowledged her lack of experience with kids, and I can’t get past the comparison she made between caring for my daughter and taking care of her dog.
Frankly, if the nanny agency hadn’t reached out yesterday to tell me that it could be months before they can find a replacement for Kendra, I wouldn’t have agreed to give her the position, even temporarily. However, given my current predicament, I’m not in a position to turn down her offer. It’s just not feasible for me to work from home indefinitely right now.
Which brings me back to my original thought. This is a terrible id—
A light tap on the door brings my pacing to an abrupt stop. I open the door to find Marlow on the porch with a floral satchel slung over her shoulder. She’s wearing a bold pink, purple, and white color-block sweatshirt, and matching pants paired with her silver sneakers. Her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, secured with a shimmering red scrunchie.
She’s gorgeous.
A thought that plays on an endless loop in my brain, overpowering any semblance of logic. And I am uncharacteristically nervous that this woman is now invading my personal space.
