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"What's the big deal with this coffee, anyway? It's good, but not life-changing," I say.
Leaning in, Lacey's smile turns thoughtful. "It's not just the coffee. It's the people-watching," she shares, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Everyone has a story." She pulls out her sketchpad, showing me detailed drawings of patrons, each engrossed in their coffee ritual.
"This woman," she points at a sketch, "her scarf tells a story. The way people dress, it's like glimpses into their lives. And I love to capture that."
I glance down at my simple outfit.
"So, what's my story?" I ask.
"You're a man who takes care of himself, that's obvious. And there's definitely some mischief in you," she says, her smile tinged with sadness. "The rest? I'm still figuring out. But it's bound to be interesting."
Her grin returns, laughter in her eyes, but we're interrupted by a barista.
"One oat-milk, iced vanilla latte for you," he says, placing the drink down. Then, recognizing me, he exclaims, "Holy shit. You own the Seattle Storm, right? Huge fan!"
After a startled selfie with him, I gather my things.
"Are you okay?" Lacey looks concerned.
"Yeah, just a reminder that breaks aren't really breaks for me. But hey, made his day," I say, getting ready to leave.
We exit into a silent walk home, me cursing the constant spotlight that comes with my role.
Chapter Six
LACEY
By the time we get to Aidan's massive house, he's frostier than he was back at the café.
Aidan's place? Seriously impressive. It's a sprawling mansion with perfectly manicured lawns and an entrance that could belong in a Hollywood movie.
Walking in, it's like entering another dimension. The foyer is huge, with towering ceilings and gleaming marble floors.
Aidan leads me to his spotless kitchen, where two women are chatting by the quartz-topped island.
Wrapped in his chilly post-café mood, Aidan introduces us. "Lacey, meet Carrigan and Jessie," he says, then ducks out for a shower.
Carrigan is the housekeeper, her smile genuine and warm. Jessie, the personal assistant, seems permanently attached to her clipboard. Both are the epitome of warm welcomes and efficiency.
"Nice to meet you, Lacey," beams Carrigan.
"Thanks for having me," I manage, feeling a bit out of my depth in all this luxury.
Jessie hands me a hefty stack of papers. "Just sign these, and we'll get you settled in."
Flipping through the paperwork, I'm hit by the sheer load of information about my new gig as Aidan's daughter's nanny.
Jessie gives me the grand tour, detailing my duties and where everything is. It's a lot to take in, and I find myself wondering what it's like to live with such opulence.
But I'm here for a reason. To care for a child whose dad's too wrapped up in his world. Suddenly, the glamour fades, replaced by the weight of responsibility.
Jessie's tour ends with a kind, "It's a lot at first, but you'll get the hang of it."
I nod, impressed by the seamless operation of Aidan's household.
When we get to Grace's summer schedule, I'm all ears, ready to plan our fun. But I'm floored by a calendar crammed with tutors, piano lessons, and language courses, leaving little room for play.
"Wow," I say, trying not to sound dismayed. "That's quite packed."
