Page 42 of The Billionaire’s Nanny

The refrigerator hummed against the far wall. Nothing else in the room made a sound. Out past the glass, the path lights were on in the courtyard. The blue binder was out with tomorrow's list from the chef folded under the corner of it. Lucy had read that list at six, and by now, she could have recited it.

Carrington walked into the kitchen at ten to ten, still in the shirt she'd worn to her sister's house. She hadn't changed, which meant she hadn't planned on coming back down at all. The jacket was gone. One cuff was folded under to hide the seed dust in it, neatly, as though that fooled anybody.

"You didn't have to cook," Carrington said.

"I know," Lucy said. "You're getting food anyway."

Carrington stopped at the end of the island. She looked at the pan, then at Lucy’s arm. Then she was around the corner of the island with Lucy's wrist caught in both hands under the light.

Something crossed her face, gone before Lucy could name it. "When did you do this?"

"Ten minutes ago."

"There's a kit in the cupboard behind you."

"It's just a burn. It's been under the tap for a minute, and it'll be gone by Thursday." Lucy left her arm where it was. Carrington's thumb rested an inch clear of the pink mark, but Lucy could feel the heat off her hand anyway. Lucy wanted to kiss her so badly her jaw ached. "The pan won. I've made my peace with it."

Carrington let go and laid both palms on the counter.

"Sit down," Lucy said.

Carrington sat on the stool at the corner of the island. Lucy slid the plate across with a fork beside it, then leaned her hip against the counter opposite. Carrington ate all four eggs in about four minutes, faster than she ate in front of anyone. She never mentioned the burn again.

"That was good," Carrington said.

"It was eggs."

"It was still good."

Lucy cleared the plate and rinsed it. Then she dried her hands, took the strawberries out of the refrigerator, and set the container on the marble with a paring knife and a board beside it.

"For Grace's lunch," Lucy said.

Carrington looked at the board for a second. "How does she like them?"

"Halves. Not quarters. And the green part off, all of it, or she won't touch any of them." Lucy leaned back against the sink. "She'll eat four, bring two home, and tell you she ate all six."

Carrington took her rings off and lined them up on the counter. Then she started on the strawberries, slowly, and cut every one of them to the same size. She rinsed her hands when she was finished and dried them on the towel Lucy had hung up. Then she pushed the stool back and stood up.

"I'm going to the study to work for an hour," Carrington said. "You should go to the cottage before the path lights go off. It's black out there after two."

Lucy shut the tap off. "You'll be in there four."

"No, only one."

"You've said you’d work an hour twice before. Both times, the lamp was still on at two." Lucy dried her hands and hung the towel on the oven rail. "Nothing on that desk will be different on Thursday."

"The meeting with the owner of the shop on Fenwick is tomorrow." Carrington became colder and more polite at once. She only did that when she was about to lose an argument and hadn't admitted it to herself yet. "Agatha has a forty-minute meeting with the owner, who had already turned down multiple offers. There's a page from Devika I haven't read. If I read it tonight, I can call Agatha at seven and brief her before she goes into the meeting. If she gets it wrong, we don't get a second meeting. That woman has been saying no to people like me since before I owned anything worth signing for."

"That's a real reason," Lucy said.

"It's the only one I have."

"It's also not why you're going in there." Lucy walked around to the end of the island. "It's one page. Read it at half past six and call her at seven."

Carrington sat with her palms down on the counter. She didn't answer. Lucy looked out the window and saw a moth was knocking against at the nearest path light, getting nowhere with it. She looked back at Carrington, who tucked the stool back under the overhang with two fingers, said goodnight, and left through the hall.

Lucy stayed where she was, listening to her climb the stairs. Halfway up, Carrington stopped for four or five seconds, then she kept going.