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Sophie followed my gaze. “It came with the house,” she blurted. “The pumpkin farm delivers them every year as soon as they are ready. Daddy forgot to cancel it again, even though my Grammy and Pop-pop reminded him to.”

The way she said it was too fast and seemed rehearsed, which told me she’d probably overheard the conversation between them.

“They are beautiful pumpkins,” I said.

Sophie shrugged, the way kids do when they’re trying to act like they really don’t care.

“They’re just pumpkins. Besides, we don’t celebrate Halloween,” she said.

When I looked at her expression, I could tell that even though they didn’t celebrate Halloween, she still wanted it, even if she’d learned she didn’t.

She walked over and took my hand, guiding me toward a leather chair. I took a seat, and she perched herself on the edge of the sofa across from me, her feet dangling.

“Daddy got a call.”

I glanced at my watch.

“How long has he been on the call?”

“Half an hour. He works a lot,” she said with a sigh. “Did you know Velociraptors were close to the size of a turkey?

“I didn’t.”

“And did you know that the best cookies in town come from Ms. Shelly’s bookstore?” She said, looking up at me with wide eyes.

“What! Why not from a bakery? There’s a fantastic one in town,” I said.

“Nope. The cookies from that bakery are gross. Ms. Shelly doesn’t skimp on chocolate chips.”

I smiled. “Are you talking of The Book Nook on Main Street?”

“Yes!”

“I thought so. I love that place.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “You’ve been there?”

“Yes! I go every Tuesday. At this time of year, Ms. Shelly always saves me one of her pumpkin bars, and she always has a list of the new romance books she thinks I might like.”

“Maybe I could go with you. Do you think she would have any books on dinosaurs?”

“I think she might, and maybe if we ask nicely she may even have a pumpkin bar for you too.” I winked.

Sophie smiled at me for the first time since I arrived. I was sure she probably thought I was only another nanny in the rotation. I was about to say something when I heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Sophie’s expression changed, and the moment he stepped into the room, I swore the temperature dropped.

Everett Stone walked into the room, still holding his phone to his ear.

“I don’t care what the board thinks, Mark. The acquisition closes in Q1 or it doesn’t close. I’m not…” He paused, glanced at me, then at his daughter. “I’ll call you back.”

He hung up without a goodbye and slid his phone into his jacket pocket. It was a little past eight on a Sunday evening, and he stood here in a charcoal gray suit that was perfectly tailored and didn’t have a single wrinkle anywhere. The man looked as if he had walked off the cover of a fashion magazine. He was tall, with chiseled features and broad-shoulders, his dark hair going silver at the temples. His eyes were the same gray as Sophie’s, but where hers held curiosity, his held nothing.

He stood over by the fireplace and looked at me the way someone would look at a resume they’d already decided they were going to reject.

“Miss…?”

“Wilde. Ember Wilde.”

“Miss Wilde.” He didn’t move, didn’t offer his hand. “I got your file from the agency. Three years of experience, all temporary placements, not a single long-term position. That doesn’t look very good, does it?”