The Nanny & Her Scrooge

by DeAnna Talcott

  At the time it had seemed so innocent, even silly. She had gone along with his hare-brained kissing idea, only because she didn’t want to argue. Not there, not in front of a hundred curious onlookers. She had never anticipated her reaction—not in a million years. She’d expected a chaste, affectionate kiss and wound up experiencing an intimacy so profound it had left her shaken.

  Of course, it was all a mistake. He’d upended her hormones with his brusque manner and kind ways—it was a deadly combination, that was all there was to it. A business deal that had gone over the edge because they’d mixed in a little pleasure.

  Last night, they’d left soon after their fateful dance, and he’d dropped her off at her mother’s condo with strict instructions to be ready because he’d pick her up at 8:00 a.m. today. He wanted to discuss the game plan for bringing Madison into his home. Nicki fully expected that when he arrived he’d be the tyrant she’d met yesterday.

  In a way, she regretted it. He had been nice during dinner last night, if only for a little while.

  Snagging a deep breath, Nicki swung her legs over the side of the bed, and reminded herself she didn’t have a choice. It didn’t matter who she was dealing with—the tyrant or the tolerable family man—she needed the job.

  Jared Gillette was five minutes early. Nicki opened the door with one hand and finished buttoning her blouse with the other. It was an action she regretted, particularly when Jared’s assessing gaze raked her front.

  “Come in,” she invited, purposely ignoring his automated male response system. “I made coffee. Can I get you some?”

  “Actually, I…” Jared frowned, and trailed a look over her bare feet. “I thought we’d go to my place, but I can see you aren’t ready.”

  Nicki wiggled her toes. Flirtatiously. Each toenail, painted cranberry-red, rippled over the plush green carpet. What in the world had gotten into her? Had her subconscious found some kind of perverse way to goad the man? “I just need to put my shoes on,” she apologized needlessly. “I know you said eight o’clock, but I guess I thought we’d be staying here to talk.”

  He nodded, grimly, as if he were a man with a purpose, a man in a hurry. “I wanted you to look over Madison’s room, as well as yours. I expect we’ll have to make some appropriate changes, and I want to discuss your duties.”

  Nicki padded into the kitchen to unplug the coffeepot and grab her shoes.

  Without invitation, Jared followed. “That coffee does smell good,” he allowed, his gaze straying to the half-filled carafe.

  At the counter Nicki swiveled and automatically reached for a coffee cup. What the heck? She wouldn’t make him ask. She could have given him a dishwasher-safe mug, but chose instead one of her mother’s bone china favorites. As she filled it, she figured it would serve as an introduction: Jared Gillette, meet my soft-spoken, kind-hearted mother.

  She offered the cup to him, quickly moving her fingers out of the way so they’d never have the opportunity to touch. She glanced up at him then, and realized his attention was not on the fine china. His eyes drifted over her mouth, lazily, as if he were considering the intimate kiss they had shared last night.

  Nicki immediately turned away. She pulled out a kitchen chair and yanked on her socks before stepping into her tennis shoes. She didn’t want to second-guess Jared Gillette, or his kisses. Yet, from the corner of her eye, she kept track of him as she brought an ankle to her opposite knee to tighten her shoelace.

  He leaned against her counter, sipping the coffee. “Good coffee,” he remarked, but his gaze slid down the curve of her jeans. Finally tearing his eyes away, he looked over the cup, to the opposite wall, to the framed family photos. “Is that you?”

  “Mmm, yes. That’s the life event thing. Mom and her little girl.” Nicki was acutely aware there was no father in any of the snapshots that chronicled her life; she wondered if Jared would notice. She was six when her father had walked out on them. Shortly thereafter, all photos of him had mysteriously disappeared—just like her father.

  Nicki tied her shoes and stood, pulling on a sweater before she grabbed her light blue jacket.

  Seeing that she was ready, Jared frowned, then downed his coffee.

  He escorted her outside in record time. Nicki paused on the steps, looking for his Lincoln. He gestured to a dark green Corvette. “I thought I’d drive something more casual today.”

  “Oh. Nice. A car wardrobe.” Nicki wanted to bite her tongue off. The man couldn’t help it if he wallowed in money. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make that sound like—”

  “Don’t apologize. There are days the Lincoln makes me feel stodgy. This is one of them.”

  She took in Jared’s leather jacket, his sweater and slacks, knowing he was anything but stodgy. He opened her car door and Nicki slid into the bucket seat.

  They drove for several minutes in silence. “You’re quiet this morning,” he finally said. “You aren’t thinking of backing out of our arrangement, are you?”

  An uneasy feeling prickled over Nicki’s scalp. The fact was, she’d considered it more times than she wanted to count. She fiddled with the strap on her watch, using the moment to avoid a direct answer. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, that’s all.”

  He shot her a questioning look.

  “Hey,” she explained, lifting both shoulders, “a lot happened in the past twenty-four hours. I got fired from a job, got hired for a job. I saw you at work, and at home. I felt like Cinderella standing on the street corner, and then later like the belle of the ball at the Yuletide Gala.” Nicki intentionally avoided any reminders that she posed as his girlfriend—or the ill-fated kiss they’d shared. “All in all, it was a little bit much and it left me with a lot to think about.”

  He turned onto Lyman Avenue, the Corvette wheeling the corner. “Last night’s kiss didn’t have anything to do with your lack of sleep, did it?”

  Nicki stiffened. “Of course not. My mind was on something entirely different.” She went on, “I never planned on staying in Winter Park. I kept thinking about how staying could affect my plans.”

  “Oh. Really?” He didn’t sound convinced.

  “My mom moved here a couple of years ago, to take a receptionist job, but then her health started failing. I came back to take care of her, and I figured when the lease was up, I’d close up the condo and move back to Florida. Then the car became an issue, and—”

  “I know. We’ve got to do something about that,” he interrupted. “I expect you to have transportation.” A second slipped away. “It never occurred to me. You can drive, can’t you?”

  “Of course I can drive,” she said indignantly, pulling back, convinced he hadn’t heard a word she’d said about her mom or why she was here or anything.

  “I mean, can you drive well? Because if Maddy’s going to be with you—”

  “My car died, I didn’t kill it,” she stated emphatically. “I don’t have a glove box full of speeding tickets, and I’ve never been in accident. But the car’s twelve years old, and I’m just not sure whether to fix it or junk it. It needs a new alternator, new shocks, brakes, tires, and—”

  “That bad?”

  “According to the mechanic.”

  “Junk it,” he said decisively. “I’ll make arrangements for you to drive my SUV. That’ll be the safest for you and Madison anyway.”

  Nicki was momentarily stunned into silence. “Do you…collect cars or something?”

  “No, I just believe everything has a purpose.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed dryly, “this Corvette really serves a purpose.”

  He snorted. “It’s my hurry-up car.”

  “Your hurry-up car,” she repeated.

  “My hurry-up-and-live-a-little car,” he informed her. “And today I feel like I’ve been given a license to live a little, now that I’m getting my daughter back.”

  He meant what he said; Nicki knew that. Still, as he turned into gated drive of his home, she tried to picture what kind of father
he would be. Would he keep his daughter at arm’s length, dismissing her to Nicki and forgetting she even existed? Or, would he be constantly looking over Nicki’s shoulder, criticizing her, and lambasting her for any indiscretion?

  Either option was a daunting possibility, especially for someone who had lived the life Nicki had.

  The estate looked different in the early morning light: quiet, sedate, and perfectly manicured. Nicki guessed Madison’s arrival would certainly take the edge off the old-money look of affluence and station. Still, she couldn’t imagine a youngster doing cartwheels on the front lawn, or blowing bubbles on the front steps. She couldn’t conceive of shrieks and giggles echoing from one end of the family room to the other, not when Jared came home with a headache and a briefcase of troubles.

  He’d be impatient and surly, and they’d all run for cover.

  Oh, brother. Her imagination might be in overdrive, but common sense told her this job could be even more short-lived than the last one.

  “Come on. I want to show you Madison’s room,” Jared said, easing the Corvette into park.

  Nicki followed him in the back door, and through the family room. Little had changed from the previous night, except that she noted the jacket of his tuxedo was carelessly tossed over the arm of the couch. An irresistible vision of Jared, his wide shoulders and lean length highlighted by satin lapels and black-button studs, flitted through her mind.

  She followed him into the center hall, then stopped short. The foyer was grand, with a brilliant chandelier that dropped down into a circular cavity created by the winding, oak staircase. Jared’s heels clipped across the black marble floor.

  “Living room’s in there,” he indicated. “And the dining room, my office, and the library’s beyond.” He headed up the stairs, ahead of her. “Madison’s room really hasn’t been touched since Sandra moved out. The crib’s still up, and her toys are still on the shelves. I’ll need you to use your best judgment in what goes and what stays. I can arrange for someone to pack everything up for you and remove it. But I want it done as quickly as possible.”

  Nicki took a deep breath, suddenly wary of making these decisions. “Don’t you want to oversee some of this? Maybe you have some special things you’d like to keep, for her, or yourself, or—”

  He paused on the landing and turned toward her, his eyes one shade darker than she remembered. “I got up early this morning and took care of that. From here out, use your own discretion. This is a new start, and I want to make sure she falls in love with this room. You can get new furniture, and anything you need. But, most of all, I want to make sure that she feels safe and secure, like she’s finally come home again.”

  “Okay,” she said carefully. “I’ll do my best.”

  He moved down the hall, then reached across her to the last door and pushed it open. Nicki caught her breath. Mullioned-glass windows opened onto a balcony that overlooked the back lawn. The room, hopelessly romantic, and done in ivory and white, had gentle touches of peach and blue pastels. Overhead, above the crown molding, the arched ceiling was a swirl of wispy clouds and chubby cherubs.

  It was every woman’s dream, to have a nursery like this for her firstborn. It pulled at her heartstrings, to think of cradling a baby in this magical, whimsical room.

  Nicki slowly stepped inside, pensively trailing a hand over the arm of a rocker. Her attention shifted from the shelves of books and toddler pull-toys to the play table and tiny chairs. “Oh, my. This is incredible. Absolutely incredible.” She twirled in the middle of the room, taking in all the details. “I can’t believe you want to dismantle this room,” she said. “It’s too wonderful.”

  Jared leaned against the door frame. “That part of my life is over,” he said curtly. “This is the only room in the entire house Sandra and I redecorated—and it’s a nursery. For babies and their mothers. I won’t have any more children passing through it, because I have no intention—and certainly no inclination—of having more children. I’m not ever making the mistake of marrying again.”

  Nicki’s heart inexplicably clenched, and she stopped moving. Something seemed so wrong, so final, about his declaration.

  “The bottom line is that Madison’s outgrown this room,” he went on. “Time to throw out the old and move on with the new. Do whatever you have to do. Just don’t bother me about it.”

  Nicki glanced over her shoulder at him, sharply, sensing his flip replies were a cover. For what? she asked herself. Regrets? Pain? Guilt? Over a marriage that didn’t work out? Or a sense of loss over the father he’d never been?

  She looked back up at the ceiling. “Can I at least save the ceiling?” she asked, simultaneously trying to strike both the awe and the pleas from her voice. “It’s so beautiful. I feel like I’ve been transported to some European chapel.”

  Jared lifted a noncommittal shoulder, and his eyes hardened. “Suit yourself.”

  “I mean…you don’t want me to redo this room with cartoon characters and bunk beds, do you? You don’t want posters and a black light?”

  He choked and a reluctant smile pursed his lips. “It just needs to be different, is all, something a child would enjoy. I want Madison to want to stay.”

  Nicki nodded, and beat back the urge to pull the string on the yellow duck to watch him wobble and quack. She longed to nudge the tiny cradle, too, where a dolly, dressed in a frilly white gown and bonnet, was propped against a lacy pillow. She imagined sitting back in the rocker, a youngster on her lap, as she savored the beautifully illustrated children’s books.

  “My room is across the hall, on the front of the house,” Jared said, interrupting her thoughts. “The family always preferred this wing because it was quieter.”

  “It’s a lovely home,” Nicki said. Mansion, she silently revised. “I suppose you grew up here?”

  “For the most part,” Jared replied. “Your room’s at the other end of the other wing. I apologize for it being so far away, but I figured you’d need the largest suite.” He moved out of the doorway and started down the hall, obviously expecting her to follow.

  Nicki took one last, lingering look at the magnificent nursery, then hurried after him. “Thank you, but I don’t need anything that fancy, or that large. Just an ordinary room will do.”

  “No, it’s already settled,” he said, never breaking stride. “Look it over. If you think of anything you need, let me know. Or if you think you’re going to have trouble getting your belongings to fit, we can arrange for storage, or—”

  Nicki caught up with him, and waved away the suggestion. “No. It’ll be fine. I travel light.”

  His eyes flickered, as if he were filing away the bit of information. “There were some nice pieces of furniture in your condo. I thought—”

  “No. Nothing of sentimental value,” she said quickly, knowing she couldn’t very well explain that after her dad left them they’d lost the house, and taken a small apartment, eventually putting all their extra things in storage. Later, everything in it had gone to the highest bidder when her mom had failed to make the payments on the storage unit. Her childhood memories had been carted away in cardboard boxes, by folks who relished the bargains of a single mother’s misfortune. It had been a cruel lesson in “only the strong survive.”

  He paused, his hand settling over the doorknob of a closed door. “I think you’ll be comfortable here,” he said, pushing the door open. Nicki stepped inside. “My mom had these rooms refurbished after she lost my dad, hoping all her friends would come and visit. It’s not,” he emphasized, “the maid’s quarters.”

  Nicki bit her lower lip, trying not to smile. This room, as his probably did, faced the front. The view from the windows was parklike. Evergreens and shade trees and statuary lined the huge expanse of lawn and circular front drive, with the wrought-iron fencing separating the estate from the street and boulevard.

  “There’s an efficiency kitchen in here.” Jared slid open a paneled pocket door, calling her attention away. “A turnaroun
d, really. Good enough for breakfasts and a midnight snack, I suppose.”

  Nicki gaped at the small, state-of-the-art refrigerator, sink, dishwasher, espresso machine and microwave. “It’s all I’ll need,” she stated.

  “Well, I’ll expect you to eat your meals with Madison. Use the kitchen downstairs whenever you want, but I’ll warn you, the kitchen is my housekeeper’s domain and she’s protective of it. If you make a mess, you’ll answer to her. I won’t run interference for you.”

  Nicki nodded. “Thanks, I’ll remember that,” she said, backing from the doorway. There was a luxurious bath next to the tiny kitchen, and a huge sitting area separate from the bedroom. “This is lovely,” she remarked, taking in the damask-covered chairs, the cherrywood coffee tables, and gilt-edged mirrors.

  “Lovely, but I have a feeling it’s not your style,” he remarked pointedly.

  It wasn’t. Not at all. Nicki preferred warm oak and the comfort of country styling to this kind of elegance. “It’s more than I need,” she said honestly, “and far more than I expected.”

  “The offer stands. You can bring in whatever you want.”

  “Thank you.” It was an offer easy enough to accept because Nicki knew she wasn’t bringing any more than the bare necessities from the condo and she wasn’t going to be here long enough to object to anything. This was one more transition in her life. She needed the money, the change of pace, and the sense of family. As she eased out of her old life, it would be a diversion to ease Jared into his new one. Maybe, for just a little while, she could feel as though she belonged.

  “I’m going to the store early today,” he announced, breaking into her thoughts. “And I want you to go with me. Look things over. I expect you to start making decisions on everything from Christmas presents for Madison, to sheets and towels for her room. I’ll arrange for you to have carte blanche to pick out whatever you need.” His gaze lingered on her blue jacket. “Is that understood?”

  “Yes. But if you don’t like my choices—”