Clover offers a sympathetic smile. “Some people just come out like that, I think. Independent and in a hurry. Sometimes, I wish I weremorelike that. I mean, I have goals and dreams for my life, but I take my sweet time getting around to the action plan part.”
“Well, you’re still young,” I say, with a sympathetic smile of my own. “You have plenty of time to implement an action plan. You don’t have to be in a hurry, either.”
Her lips quirk. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Kate.”
I wince, making her laugh. “Please, no Mr. Kate. I can still be Dean, right? That isn’t against the rules?”
“Sure,” she says, still grinning. “You’ll only be Mr. Kate when you’re giving me wise old man advice.”
I exhale a huff of laughter. “Got it. I’ll be sure to keep that to a minimum then. I already feel old enough, and definitely don’t have much to offer on the wisdom front.” I push back from the table. “Come on. I’ll show you the apartment, and you can spend the rest of the day settling in. I can cover the girls’ routine after naptime.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, rising to follow me, collecting her cane from where it’s leaned against the wall. “I don’t mindstaying until four-thirty. That’s the deal for days when you aren’t gone overnight, right?”
“Yeah, but I want you to have some time to get your space ready,” I toss over my shoulder as I collect her suitcase from beside the door.
I had to push it against the wall to get in, an Ava-bolting deterrent I couldn’t help but admire.
As we cross the yard toward the detached garage and the apartment above, the January air feels cold after the warmth of the kitchen. The magnolia by the gate still holds a few brown leaves it never dropped in the fall, currently rattling in the wind. It’s a good day for staying cozy inside, and I’m looking forward to a lazy afternoon with the girls before practice starts tomorrow.
Clover follows me into the garage to the staircase at the back, humming beneath her breath as she notes the Honda Civic parked beside my truck. “Is this the car I’ll be using?”
I nod. “Yeah, do you think that’ll be okay? It’s older, but still runs great. I held onto it after I got the truck, so I’d have something more kid-friendly. It’s easier to get to the car seats and boosters with something lower to the ground.”
“This will be great,” she says. “The other family was going to give me a minivan, but I was nervous about parking it. I’ve never driven something that big. But my old car was a Civic, so this’ll be perfect.”
“Perfect,” I echo, leading the way up the stairs, noting that Cloverdoesseem to handle them fine. Thankfully, it doesn’t look like a second-story is going to be a problem with her cane.
Inside, the small apartment sparkles, even in the dim light of the increasingly cloudy day.
My mother did a great job decorating in here. The sitting area to the right has a fresh couch cover and African violets on the coffee table. The bed to the left has new sheets, a new duvet cover, and matching violet throw pillows. At the back,the kitchenette and dining area are outfitted with a small coffee maker and a “welcome basket” filled with coffee, snacks, and sachets of lavender for the drawers.
Eliza Kane has never met a task she can’t complete in record time, and with class and style. I miss her already.
I don’t, however, miss all the things she would have had to say about me being hot for the new nanny. I didn’t say anything on the way to the airport, but if she’d been around the two of us for even a few minutes longer, she would have guessed something was up. She’s as sharp as she is efficient.
And no matter how much she loves fun, she wouldn’t approve of this situation.
Not even a little bit.
Another reason to keep how well I know Clover a secret. I don’t want my mother feeling obligated to come back to New Orleans. She’s already done enough. She has a life of her own she needs to get back to, and I need to get on with mine.
And to do that, I need a nanny, so…we’ll make this work.
Even if it’s awkward for a while.
I set the suitcase on the bench at the foot of the bed, doing my best not to look at the mattress or think a single thought about how much I wish we’d had a mattress Saturday night. If we had, I could have followed up that first orgasm with my mouth between her legs, shown her how much I love to?—
Cutting the thought off with a too-loud clear of my throat, I turn back to Clover, hands propped on my hips. “So, the bathroom’s through the door there, past the kitchen. The showerhead’s a little low for someone as tall as you are, but I can get my plumber in to replace it if it’s a problem. Just let me know.”
She waves a breezy hand. “It’s fine. I’m not worried about it. I’ll get clean, one way or another.”
“No, really,” I insist. “Let me know if it’s uncomfortable, and I’ll get it fixed. It’s no problem.”
She nods. “Okay, I will. Thanks.”
“Okay, and…what else?” I mutter, glancing around. “There should be milk and a few other things to drink in the fridge, but if you want to add anything to the grocery order for Thursday, let me know.”
“You don’t have to cover my groceries, Dean,” she says gently. “That’s not part of our contract. But Iwillprobably have a list of things to get for the girls. Once I know them a little better. Can I get that to you tomorrow afternoon, maybe?”
