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Chapter 1
Rene Olsen was desperately stepping on the gas pedal to her worn out red Chevrolet Caprice which was chugging along the street, slowly and painfully, dog-tired.
“Come on, you old clunker, don’t fail me now!” she pleaded, talking loudly to her car, with no sympathy in her jaded voice.
Even though she firmly believed that it really wasn’t the car’s fault that she had started later than she was supposed to and that the traffic was unusually busy for this time of day. Sometimes, things just didn’t want to go your way.
She drove faster than she was allowed in the cul-de-sac, but Rene didn’t care. She couldn’t afford not to get this job. She would be on time for the interview or die trying. So, she kept pressing on that poor, battered gas pedal as if her life depended on it, because, in her mind, it really did. There was too much at stake here. That job would be hers.
She kept looking at the houses, hopeful for number 63, the number that might bring long sought peace of mind back into her life.
“Fifty two,” she read the numbers out loud, as if the sound of her own voice would soothe her jittery fingers that kept drumming a silent song on the steering wheel, “fifty three, fifty four, fifty six…”
She was gripping at that steering wheel just a little too hard, which was a habit she couldn’t shake, no matter how hard she tried to. Now, the mock leather was starting to peel off and the unsightly traces of the inside stuffing were peering out. A sore eye among sore eyes.
“Sixty two,” she welcomed the long-awaited number with a look of delight on her face, seeing the next number in line to her left.
She parked a little clumsily, between two cars, listening intently to the sound of her dying car. She needed a new one, even she, a complete car amateur, could see that. But, her wallet was refusing her reasonable demands. Besides, she had more important things to worry about than money, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. Money would solve most of her issues and only once she had it could she focus on anything else.
She had to be her best self now. Her happiest self. Her most confident and reliable self. That was what her employers asked of her as a nanny to their children and their demands were more than reasonable.
She needed this job desperately. That’s why she was ecstatic when she got the call from the agency about this opportunity and that she should head out there as soon as possible. A time was arranged and here she was. Apparently, the guy was a hard-working, single dad, who needed someone to take care of his little boy for a few hours every day because of his new job. She wasn’t really clear on all the details yet, but it sounded like a good opportunity, one that might allow her a second job somewhere else, if her schedules aligned. She wholeheartedly hoped they would.
When the car was finally parked, she checked herself in the rearview mirror. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, she rarely did,
just a dash of mascara and chap stick. Her hair was up in a loose bun. She was planning on washing her hair last night, but ended up reading until late and when she realized what time it was, she was too tired to even get out of bed, let alone get to the bathroom and wash her hair.
She looked presentable. She wasn’t a knock out, by any means, but people always kept telling her that her charm was unbeatable, so she always played that card when she really wanted something. She’d definitely be playing it today.
Winking at herself in the mirror and thinking positive thoughts, she grabbed her little purse and got out of the car. When she slammed the door, she could actually see the car shaking a little, as if it would fall apart any minute.
“Just hang on a few more days,” she begged silently.
She walked over to the house numbered 63. The yard was partly manicured, partly a mess of children’s toys and sandbox, with diggers and trucks, and all sorts of kids digging paraphernalia. She smiled. It was to be expected. What surprised her though, was that manicured part of the lawn. How did the dad manage to keep it untouched by little hands and feet?
She walked up the three marble steps, and stopped in front of the door. The house was simple, but eye-catching. Its outer walls were white, with yellow frames around the windows and grey lines at the bottom. The little verandah had a wicker table, two chairs, and a swing big enough for two people. The big pillows looked soft and cozy. She already imagined herself drinking coffee, sitting there while the little boy was playing in the yard. The thought gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling, one she hadn’t had in a long time.
Bravely, she pressed the button and an unfamiliar sound started playing. A second later, there was a pitter patter of small feet rushing over and then a loud, whiny voice shouted from the inside.
“Da-ad! There’s someone at the do-or!”
She smiled again at the elongation of the two words. So sweet, so childlike. She shifted the weight of her entire body to the right foot, then back again to the left. Somehow, it was difficult to find the right position. This feeling stemmed from the inside and had nothing to do with the way she was standing.
A few more seconds passed and the door unlocked, revealing a strikingly handsome man. He looked at her wonderingly, as if he wasn’t expecting her. His beard was a few days old, but it didn’t made him look unkempt. On the contrary, he reminded her of those Calvin Klein underwear models, with just a dash of that lumberjack vibe. She half expected the wind to start blowing his way, and he’d strike that pose, waiting for the cameras to start flashing.
Rene swallowed heavily. Her throat was dry, as if she hadn’t had a drink of water in days. Then, she smiled as confidently as she could and hoped he wouldn’t see through her, and realize what a nervous wreck she was.
“Mr. Hyde McGallan?” she chirped sweetly. “I’m Rene Olsen. The agency arranged for our interview…”
“Oh, Ms. Olsen, yes!” he quickly nodded, opening the door wide.
She could see that he was wearing light grey sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt. It rested perfectly on his chiseled chest, as his strong, upper arms invited her in.
“Rene, please,” she smiled, taking a step in.
Immediately, she noticed a peeping set of eyes just behind the next door, but the moment she looked that way, the eyes got startled and hid inside the room, slamming the door shut. This wasn’t the first time that she was facing an introverted child. It was never a problem, as Rene herself had always been an introvert herself. One never really grew out of it, despite what some psychologists tried to convince her of.
“That’s Parker. He’s a bit shy,” Hyde explained, raking his fingers through his curly dark hair, which was cut so that most of it was falling to his left side, and part of it, over his eyes. “But, he’s a really nice kid,” he added quickly, as if trying to find a justification for this behavior, which might appear rude to some.
“I’m sure he is,” she smiled in an effort to show him that there was no need to explain anything.
Some kids were just introverted by nature, like grown-ups. She met many such cases, and always knew the right way to approach the child so that he or she would eventually open up to her. Whether it was her charm, or simply her calm manners, she would always eventually make a connection with the child. So, she wasn’t worried.
She wasn’t worried about Parker, that is. But, there was something worrisome about this whole thing, and that was the fact that she found her employer, Hyde McGallan, incredibly handsome. If someone had asked her to, she would actually sign a document that stated he was the most handsome man she had ever met and she doubted anyone would ever top him. She could almost feel the palpitations of her beating heart at the tips of her fingers as she looked at him prepare coffee for the two of them, in his cozy, rustic kitchen.
It was mostly wood, but that warm kind of wood, which makes you feel like you’re in a cabin, deep in the woods - far away from the civilization, but still close enough to have the basic necessities such as indoor plumbing and electricity. A lack of those could quickly remove all romance from even the coziest places in the woods.
The coffee machine he had was nothing that could be found in a cabin in the woods. It looked like something he stole from a Starbucks. A huge silver monster of a machine, which could make three coffees at the same time, it stood in stark contrast with the warm wooden tones that surrounded it. Somehow, they stood in some pleasantly weird connection, complementing each other.
“Here you go,” he said, setting before her a dainty little coffee cup with a plate.
Rene smiled. The aroma that spread all around her was soothing, and she knew this was probably the reason why so many people tend to be in such a good mood first thing in the morning: that perfect cup of espresso.
“Sugar?” he asked.
“Oh, no, thank you,” she shook her head, pulling the cup closely towards her.
He sat down opposite her and took a small sip of coffee with his eyes closed. Rene could swear that she heard a little murmur of pleasure escape his lips. His tongue licked the remnants of foam from his upper lip, then smacked itself against his upper teeth. She was amazed that she even heard that and even more amazed that she found that action arousing.
