by Tia Louise
“Oh, sorry, No. I was just thinking about…” I can’t tell her what I was just thinking about. What’s wrong with me? “Have you had dinner?” Her expression is slightly startled, and I hasten to add. “We’ve all eaten, but you’re welcome to help yourself if you’re hungry.”
“Oh,” she exhales and smiles, seeming relieved. “I already had something. Thanks.”
It feels so stiff and formal. I’m not sure what to do to ease the tension. “Eleanor has gone to bed.” After sulking around the house all evening, I don’t add. “Lillie is still awake. She wanted to show you her room… And yours.”
“Okay!” Ruby seems as eager as me to do something, anything to get out of this foyer, where we’re awkwardly trying to pretend like we’re not checking each other out.
I lead the way through the open living room, with the large kitchen and dining area to the right and Lillie’s playroom on the opposite end to the left. My daughter is still happily chattering away with her dolls.
“Travis,” Lillie speaks with an exaggerated southern accent, shaking a doll in a pink dress at a sitting Ken. “When a woman says lay-tah, what she really means is not EVAH!”
What is she saying? I start to make some sort of apology, when Ruby laughs. “The Princess and the Frog!”
She drops her backpack at my feet and leaves her suitcase, going to where Lillie sits on the floor and kneeling beside her.
“Ruby!” My daughter jumps up and hugs her, holding out a doll in a green dress. “You want to be Tiana?”
“Sure!” Ruby takes the green doll and shakes her at the pink one Lillie’s holding. “Lottie, don’t eat all the beignets.”
“Give me napkins!” My daughter grabs five tissues out of the box on the floor and shoves them under her doll’s arms. “I’m sweatin’ like a sinner in church!” I cough a laugh, and she keeps going. “My prince is never going to come!”
“Lottie, wait!” Ruby calls after my daughter, who runs to the small daybed. “Calm down and take a deep breath.”
“I just have to wish harder!” Lillie looks up at the ceiling. “Please please please please…”
Ruby goes to where my daughter is chanting, and they continue this scene. I’m stuck at the door, watching as they bond over some crazy movie scene I don’t know.
Satisfaction filters warm through my stomach. This is good… better than good.
I watch as she smooths a silky, sand-colored curl off Lillie’s shoulder. “Wishing is fun, but you have to work hard to get what you want.”
Lillie puts the doll down and turns to her, and I don’t think they’re playing anymore. “Did you have to work hard to get what you wanted?”
Ruby smiles. “I’ve worked hard, but I’m not finished yet. I still have things I want.”
Interesting.
“I like your hair.” Lillie crawls around the bed to thread her fingers in Ruby’s long ponytail. “You’re like Mulan.”
“Mulan is Chinese. I’m half Korean.”
Lillie’s eyes widen. “What’s that?”
“It’s a whole different country. We can talk about it later.” Ruby looks back at me, where I’m silently watching, wondering where she’s been all my daughter’s life. “I didn’t know if it might be bedtime?”
“Yes,” I snap out of it, straightening. “I’ll show you your room.”
Reaching down, I slide out the handle on her rolling suitcase and lift her backpack from where she left it at my feet.
Ruby hurries to stop me. “I can carry my bags.”
“You’d better let me. Your room’s on the third floor.”
“We’re at the very top!” Lillie grabs her hand, practically skipping. “All the princesses live in the top of the castle.”
“Is that so?” Ruby smiles down at her, and the two take off ahead of me.
Lillie chatters all the way up the stairs, and I follow, feeling better about this situation by the minute. Lillie acts like Ruby belongs to her, leading her up the stairs and down the hall to her room.
Ruby gasps as she steps inside, looking all around the same way she did in the foyer. “It’s beautiful.” She looks back at me. “And so big!”
I can’t resist. “That’s what she said.”
Ruby snorts a laugh, but my daughter frowns. “That is what Ruby said?”
“It’s a joke.” Ruby smooths her hand down Lillie’s hair, and I place her backpack on the queen-sized bed against the wall.
The room has been furnished and empty since we bought the house. I look around at the white walls and sand-colored comforter on the bed with tan pillows. White cordless shades cover the windows, and the French doors facing the front drive are covered with long, white sheers. Even the bathroom suite is all white.
“You can change the décor if you’d like.”
She goes to the beige-wood corner desk. “It is a bit monochromatic. Maybe after my first month?”
Lillie takes her hand. “Come see my room!”
I stop them before they leave. “I’m heading downstairs.” Turning my attention to Lillie, my voice gets serious. “No more playing. Brush your teeth and get ready for bed. Lights out in ten minutes.”
“Okay.” Her bottom lip pokes out, and I scoop her up in a hug.
“Goodnight, princess.”
She melts and gives me a hug then starts wiggling to get down. I release her and straighten to catch Ruby’s eyes on me.
Her expression is a mixture of curiosity and something more… desire? I don’t know. Hell, maybe it’s just what I want to see there. I can’t stop these feelings of desire from flaring up.
I will stop them.
“I’ll be awake a bit longer if you need anything.” I leave them, stopping by my bedroom to kick off my shoes before continuing down to the kitchen for a drink.
5
Ruby
Remington Key has perfect feet.
After watching Lillie brush her teeth, reading her a princess picture book, singing as much as we could remember of “Almost There” from The Princess and The Frog, and saying the “Now I lay me down to sleep” prayer, I left my new little charge snuggled soundly in her bed.
Then I returned to my giant room and unpacked my folded clothes into drawers and hung my few blouses and skirts in the large closet. My toiletries are arranged in the large bathroom, and all I need is a glass of water for bed.
Lillie’s right. Descending the enormous staircase, past the second-floor landing, to the first, I can’t help feeling like I’ve been whisked away to some castle like one of those princesses.
I’m in the kitchen searching for a glass, when I notice my boss standing in the lamp-lit living room, looking out the French doors toward the man-made lake in the center of this posh gated community.
He’s still wearing those sexy, loose jeans and that pale blue button-down, untucked. A crystal tumbler is in his hand, and his feet are bare on the hardwoods. It’s on, Jamie Dornan.
Nope. I put the brakes on that and tell my hormones to take a rest. As Tiana says, I’m almost there. No distractions. But when he turns and sees me watching him, I swear, my entire body flushes as hot as his hazel eyes.
Blinking fast, I force a smile. “She’s adorable.”
A smile ghosts across his lips. “She’s always had a lot of personality.” His brow quirks. “You’re no slouch in that department. How did you know all of that stuff she was saying?”
“What can I say?” I do a shrug. “I’m a sucker for Disney princesses.”
“You’ll be her favorite person in the house.”
My stomach is tight and tingly. “It’ll come in handy when I have to make her eat broccoli.”
“She actually loves broccoli. Dipped in ranch dressing.”
“Little weirdo.” I’m thinking how much I like this kid already until he laughs, and my jaw drops. My face flushes. “I mean… I didn’t mean it like that. Your daughter is not a weirdo. I actually love broccoli myself—”
“It’s okay.” He hold
s out a hand. “It is weird for a kid to like broccoli.” He takes a step away from the window, toward me. “So? What do you think? Got any questions?”
“Um…” I look around the large living room, the soft white sofa and huge flat screen television over the wide, dark fireplace. “You have such a beautiful home.”
“Think of it as yours while you’re here.”
“Right…” I wonder how long that will take. “I guess… do you need me to make breakfast in the morning?”
“Just for Lillie… and you, if you eat breakfast. Eleanor does her own thing, and I usually grab a yogurt or a power bar.”
“Should I make coffee?”
“We have a Keurig.”
“Right.” Easy enough… “I saw preschool is at eight to noon. Do I make lunch?”
“Again, just for the two of you.” He smiles. “Dinner’s really the only meal we eat together. Eleanor has a private chef who comes three times a week. She’s very particular about her diet… Our diet.”
“Ah.” I nod. “Explains why she’s so thin.”
We’ve been moving closer as we speak, and now we’re in front of each other. I can feel the heat radiating off his skin. I can smell the earthy fragrance of his cologne—sandalwood, leather, and soap. I remember it from the bar when he caught me.
“She’s very particular about a lot of things, but I’m hoping to ease her into her own place.”
I think about my own mother. “Let me know how that goes.”
“I guess you’ll be here to witness it.” The dimple in his cheek causes the space between my legs to heat. Our breath is warm, and we’re so close. My lips are full and heavy, and if I lift my chin, I’m certain his would dip, and our mouths would caress…
Or maybe I’m daydreaming.
Stepping back, I do my best to break the spell. “I’d better go on up. Morning comes early.”
His eyes hold mine, warm and inviting. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Jesus take the wheel, if I told him what I need right now…
“Thanks.” I’m retreating fast, while I still can. “And thanks for the job.”
“You’re helping me, remember?” He smiles, and that dimple almost scrambles my brain.
“Right. Although, it looks like you’ve got everything pretty much under control.”
“Things aren’t always how they appear.”
He can say that again. I turn, leaving as fast as possible without running. If I stay here, so close to him one more minute, I’m not sure what might happen.
In my room, I strip off my leggings and toss the chambray shirt on the back of a chair. I grab a notebook from my backpack and crawl into the super silky sheets, beneath the thick duvet, and bend my knees.
At the top of the page, in all capital letters, I write GOALS. Under it, I make a numbered list.
1. Get my own place.
2. Pay off my credit card.
3. Save for new career options.
Yes. This is what I need to do. Focus on my goals. This is how I’ll resist the temptation sleeping one floor below me and not fuck this up.
“Penny cakes!” Lillie sits on the stool across from me with a plastic cup of orange juice in one hand and a fork in the other.
I frown, studying the box of pancake mix. Mix with water, drop onto hot griddle, flip when bubbles appear.
I take a sip of coffee. I’ll have to get up earlier for this. It sounds so easy, but I’m not convinced. “Let’s just have go-gurt and toast today.”
Her little lip pokes out, and even pouting, I swear, she’s the cutest thing. Leaning forward, I speak softly, our faces close. “Remember how Tiana can cook anything in New Orleans?”
Her pout turns to a big smile, and she nods excitedly.
“I am not Tiana. I’m more like… Lottie.”
Her shoulders drop, and I nod, pressing my lips into a frown. “But I’ll learn. Maybe we can learn together?”
Her excitement returns. “Yes!”
“In the meantime…” I pass her a plastic pouch of yogurt and pull a loaf of bread out of the small box on the counter. “Go-gurt and toast. I’ll put some peanut butter on it.”
That satisfies her, and Eleanor breezes into the room wearing beige pants and a navy sweater with a neat Chanel scarf tied at her neck.
“Good morning, Lillie, Ruby. I trust you slept well?” She places a mug in the Keurig, pops in a pod, and hits the brew button. “Sorry I had to turn in early. I was very tired. Guess I’m getting older.”
I don’t believe that for a second. She’s studying me like one of those predator birds, searching for signs of weakness. Too bad she’s not going to find any.
“No worries.” I smile as I spread peanut butter on Lillie’s toast—all-natural, of course. “Lillie showed me my room.” I wink at my little charge as I hand her the toast. “Remi filled in the rest.”
Her eyes narrow, and I know what she’s thinking.
I’m just going to let her think it, too.
“Ready to go to school?” She turns to her granddaughter, who’s stuffing toast in her mouth and nodding. “My goodness, Lillian, that’s not what you’re wearing is it?”
For a moment, I’m confused. Lillie is dressed in a sea green skirt, made of layers of thick, sparkly tulle and a white tee with a glittery Make Waves and a blue-green-lavender mermaid. On her feet are iridescent silver Uggs.
“Ruby said I could!” Lillie cries.
“I’m not surprised.” Eleanor sneers at my outfit.
“What?” I glance down at the flowing purple skirt I’m wearing with a white tee that says Stay Gold on the front and black converse tennis shoes. I put on light makeup, pink lips and mascara with just a touch of blush.
I’m very nanny-chic, if you ask me.
“I’m confused.” I look up at Eleanor again. “Is she not supposed to wear those boots to school?”
I imagine she’ll be running and jumping and climbing and doing whatever else little kids do all day with their friends. Maybe tennis shoes are more appropriate.
“I placed out a lovely smocked dress for her to wear last night, and her black patent Mary Janes and lace socks.”
“Oh…” I did see that. “I thought that was for Sunday.”
“Yesterday was Sunday.” Blue eyes level on mine. “Lillian has many nice dresses. At the rate she’s growing, she’ll hardly get to wear any of them before they’re too small.”
I pinch my lips together, thinking. When she got dressed this morning, Lillie was very excited about putting her outfit together.
I think she’s adorable in it.
Still… this is our first crossing of swords and how I handle it is going to set the tone going forward. I choose my words carefully, keeping my voice level, firm, and not aggressive.
“I imagine it’s hard to run and play in those dresses and shoes… And I don’t think they show off her personality.”
Eleanor’s gaze narrows. “Lillian is four. Her personality is still ours to mold.” That statement makes me bristle. “Besides, Oaklawn is a very prestigious school. She should look the part.”
Now I understand what she’s worried about, and I remember my mother’s complaint. Eleanor wants Lillie to look like a catalog model and not a real, live four-year-old. I also see what Remi vaguely referenced in our earlier conversations.
“I think Lillie’s outfit is adorable and perfect for a day at preschool.” I’m not backing down.
“She looks like a vagrant.” Eleanor’s annoyance is barely hidden.
Remi walks in the room at that exact moment, looking fine as always. “Morning, ladies.” He goes to the Keurig, oblivious to the tension crackling in the air.
“Daddy!” Lillie rocks on her stool, finishing her toast, and seeming about as oblivious as her dad. “I’m eating toast.”
“What’s that? Peanut butter?” He tweaks her nose. “You’re a little peanut butter.”
“I am not!” She cries, giggling.
His
smile turns to me, and damn, it’s the same as last night—interested, focused, irresistible. “Did you sleep well? Got everything you need?”
Hardly. I feel the heat in my cheeks, and I don’t want to respond to him this way in front of Eleanor. Especially not in the middle of a power struggle.
“I’m good.” I take a sip of cool coffee. “Everything is perfect.”
Eleanor takes advantage of our fizzy moment to reassert her power. “Lillian, go to your room and change. Now. We don’t have time to waste.”
Lillie whines and looks to me for help. My eyes go to Eleanor’s, and I pick up my car keys. “You’re right. We don’t have time if I’m going to meet her teacher. We need to leave now.”
“She will not go to school dressed this way. She looks like a… a—”
“Mermaid princess!” Remi scoops his daughter off the stool into the air.
He’s wearing a short-sleeved tee, and the muscles in his arms line and flex. As if that wasn’t enough, Lillie’s tummy peeps out, and he lowers her to his mouth for a loud, sloppy raspberry.
“Dad-day! Dad-day!” Lillie screams, laughing and squealing so shrill, dogs cry.
A smile splits my cheeks, and damn him. I might have just fallen in love in that moment.
He laughs and lowers his daughter in his arms. Her cheeks are pink and her laughter contagious. “You’d better get out of here before you miss the first bell.”
“No!” In a flash, her little face goes serious, and she wiggles to get out of his arms. “I’ll have to move my monkey!”
I have no idea what that means, but Lillie grabs my hand, pulling me to the door. I snatch my bag off a nearby chair. My keys are in my hand, and I look to see if Eleanor is still planning to ride with us.
“Have a nice day, Lillian, I’ll see you this afternoon.” She turns on her heel and stalks off in the opposite direction.
A smile teases my lips, and it takes all my willpower not to do a little fist pump. At the same time, I know this isn’t over.
Oaklawn Preschool looks more like an expensive boarding school than a school for kids five and under. It’s another new addition to accommodate the wealthier families moving into Oakville from Charleston—much like Eagleton Heights.
