The Nanny Bargain
Page 3
“Have you had breakfast?”
Tori noticed she didn’t include Sawyer in the query. “Before the crack of dawn, but thanks for asking.”
“Do plan to join us for lunch. Eleven thirty.”
“I’ll do that.”
Still standing in the doorway, Therese briefly touched her fingertips to the door’s polished wood, then raised a delicate brow at Tori. “You do recall our house rules?”
Ah, yes. The apartment door should remain open at all times when hosting male guests.
“I do. Thank you.”
While Tori hadn’t dated since Heath’s departure, she was in no hurry to again, so that wouldn’t be a problem. But although Sawyer’s unexpected presence wasn’t anything close to a date, she wasn’t convinced either Ray or Therese was particularly pleased with his putting in an appearance on her first day in their household.
Which didn’t exactly reflect the lay of the land that Sawyer had led her to believe.
* * *
Leave it to Therese to put him in his place in front of Tori. But what had he expected? He’d made himself scarce, then here he came barging back into their lives bearing gifts right smack on the day they’d acquired a new—and attractive—nanny.
No, not nanny. Childcare giver.
When the twins’ grandmother departed, he snagged a couple of paper towels from the dispenser above the counter. “Let me get that mousetrap out of here. You’ll want to clean the cabinet and put stuff in there.”
“But if there are mice...”
He reached into the back of the cabinet with a paper towel and pulled out the trap. Inspected it. Wrapped it up, then stood. “The cheese is hardened. It’s been there for quite a while with no takers. Ray probably forgot it was under there.”
She gave him a relieved smile. “That’s good.”
He glanced at the door still open to the hallway, amused at Therese’s unsubtle allusion to “house rules”—as if she thought he’d attempt to put the moves on Tori if left alone behind closed doors?
While Tori had called to let him know she’d applied for and then gotten the job, he hadn’t seen her since early last week, and she looked prettier this morning than he remembered. Pale blond hair framed her face, accentuating expressive eyes, and that smile she’d flashed in his direction a time or two made his breath catch. Was that why he’d shown up on her doorstep this morning with the excuse of dropping off a new game for the boys?
He looked down at the wrapped mousetrap in his hand, then back at Tori. “I don’t suppose you noticed that Landon can stretch the truth if it suits his purposes?”
Invented. Fabricated. Made-up. Nobody liked you to use the blunt word liar these days.
“I did notice. To my knowledge, science hasn’t proven anything of the sort as he claimed. I have no doubt there are people who are allergic to mice.”
“That’s something he’s gotten into since coming to live here. He cites studies or claims he saw it on some TV documentary. Makes it sound real legit. If you didn’t know better...well, you’d swallow it hook, line and sinker.”
“Why do you think he does it?” She looked at him earnestly, as if expecting him to have all the answers.
“I expect, for the most part, to buffalo his brother. There’s some competition there. Maybe he thinks he can win Therese’s and Ray’s approval, too.”
“Do they call him on that behavior?”
“I imagine they do when they catch him at it. I’m glad you picked up on it right away.”
He’d had the wool pulled over his own eyes more than a few times until Landon started in about some “fact” related to trapshooting that had absolutely no basis in reality. But he’d sounded so credible, knowledgeable, and someone who wasn’t a trapshooter would have let it slide by.
“I’ll make it a priority to work with Therese and Ray to get that habit nipped in the bud.” She frowned slightly, as if this issue was something he should have made her aware of in advance. “Is there anything I need to know about Cubby?”
“Nothing of that nature.” Or at least he didn’t think there was. But it wasn’t as if he’d seen the boys on a regular basis since their parents had died. Only enough to know that they weren’t fully the same kids they’d been a year ago. Which was why it would be good to have Tori here, an objective observer. “He can get emotional. Tends to play Therese with tears, which irritates Ray to no end.”
She nodded, but didn’t look surprised. Had she seen some of that during her interview and follow-up meetings with the Selbys?
“So,” he said, determined to broach the next subject. “Do you have a feel for when you might start at the Outpost?”
“Would you mind awfully much if I got through a week here before we make that decision? It may take a while to determine what schedule works best for the boys, the Selbys and me.”
While he needed her to start deep cleaning and organizing at the Outpost as soon as possible, readying the place for what he hoped would be a busy season, that would be one less week he’d have to pay her.
“Okay, then, we’ll talk a week from now.”
“Which brings up something else you need to know...” She lifted her chin slightly, as if expecting to be challenged on whatever she was about to say. With a glance to the open door, she lowered her voice. “I won’t be accepting your proposed dollar addition to the hourly wage the Selbys offered.”
He drew a quick breath. She was holding out for more? He hadn’t anticipated an underhanded maneuver like that.
“I’m not sure I understand,” he said carefully, “what you mean, Tori.”
She clasped her hands together, looking more sweetness and light than the hardheaded negotiator she apparently was. “It simply means that I won’t accept monetary compensation that obligates me to you. Not beyond, I mean, what you pay me as your employee at the Outpost.”
“Hold on a minute.” She wasn’t asking for more money, she was ditching her “obligation” to him altogether? “I thought when we last spoke that you understood—”
“That you were buying my services as a snitch?” Her smile was entirely too perky. “I understood that clearly, Mr. Banks. Which is why I almost walked away from this job opportunity you presented. That is, until I had time to rethink a few things.”
He frowned. He’d been snookered.
To his irritation, she laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll look out for the twins and it won’t cost you a dime. Think of me as a human smoke detector. If there’s anything that concerns me about the safety or welfare of Cubby and Landon, I’ll quietly sound the alarm.”
“But you won’t be—?”
“Reporting to you? Nope.” She shrugged, as if that settled it.
His gaze flickered to the open door to ensure they were still alone.
“But...” Despite his reluctance to make an issue of something he’d picked up from his friend’s mother, he couldn’t help countering her smile with one of his own. “I can make sure the Selbys won’t retain you for long.”
Wariness lit her eyes. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Could be I’m not entirely sure you’re trustworthy.” He folded his arms. “Surely you don’t think I’d recruit you to look after my brothers if I didn’t do my homework, do you?”
As realization dawned, her pretty mouth dropped open with a sound of protest. “I can explain. That was a long time ago. And I was only—”
“Seventeen. I’m confident nothing of that nature will ever happen again. But the Selbys are quite conservative, you know, and getting arrested for trespassing and disturbing the peace might not sit well with them. A potentially bad influence on their grandsons.”
A multitude of emotions sparked in her eyes. Lips now pressed together, she looked momentarily down at the floor, most likely gathering her thoughts. Then b
ack at him.
“Court records for a minor would have been sealed. So how did you...?”
“You’re not the only one who has friends in Jerome.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve known this all along but are going to use it now to throw a roadblock in my working here? I’m serious that I’ll involve you if I feel something jeopardizes the boys.”
“You need this job, though, don’t you?” he said softly, watching her closely. Apparently, from what he’d learned from his friend’s mother, a relationship breakup was what had sent her flying to Hunter Ridge in the first place, and he doubted she’d want to return to her hometown if she could make a go of it elsewhere. “You need the housing benefit, too, if you intend to stay here.”
“I—Yes, of course, I need both housing and a job. I’ve made no secret of that. But I don’t want to feel like an informer on people with whom I’m building a relationship. People I’ll be living with under the same roof.” She folded her arms, a reflection of his own stance. “And if you put in a bad word for me with the Selbys, in a small town like this whatever you tell them could get around. Make it difficult for me to find another job.”
He had her now. “It could.”
For a long moment, she dared to glare daggers at him. But when her expression abruptly softened, his gut tightened in uneasy anticipation of her next response.
“The other day you as good as said you didn’t have any viable alternate candidates,” she said smoothly, watching him like a kitten at a mouse hole. “I got the impression I was your last hope.”
She had him there—and had the nerve to smile at that insight. It was true he didn’t know anyone else in town who might be sympathetic enough—and discreet enough—to help him out. Or at least no one who’d be available for childcare duties.
“So where does this leave us?” Tori’s challenging stance eased as she unfolded her arms, apparently assured that she’d played the winning hand.
He had to hand it to her. She had pluck.
While he could be pigheaded here because she refused to cooperate with him across the board, that would be cutting off his nose to spite his face. He needed her in the kids’ household.
He squinted one eye. “A compromise?”
“We both have a horse in this race, don’t we?”
“Guess we do.”
“Bottom line, though, is that, outside of my work at the Outpost, I don’t want to take money from you or to otherwise be obligated to report to you.” She quirked an engaging smile. “So take it or leave it.”
Chapter Three
Even to her own ears, that didn’t sound like much of a compromise on her part.
And standing her ground was a risk—a foolhardy one perhaps—given that Sawyer had exercised due diligence before recruiting her. While she could explain the situation to any reasonable person—she and a group of high school friends had staged a protest when an out-of-town developer managed to circumvent local laws and was preparing to raze a historic building—Sawyer was right. The Selbys might not take an arrest lightly.
Nor did it sound as if he’d be interested in hearing her side of the story. Besides, didn’t Grandma always say wrong is wrong, and having a reason for doing it didn’t make it right?
Sawyer’s assessing gaze locked on hers as she held her breath, preparing for another reminder that with a few well-chosen words he could ensure she wouldn’t retain this job—or land any other job in town, for that matter.
But he didn’t respond. At all.
“So,” she said hesitantly as the silence stretched between them. “You’re good with that?”
“It looks as if I’ll have to be, doesn’t it? That is, as long as you alert me to anything significant that could negatively impact my brothers.”
“You have my word on it.”
“And you have mine to keep my mouth shut, as well. Assuming, of course...”
“I said you have my word.”
He nodded. But despite the grudging settlement between them, she held no illusions that he was pleased about this turn of events. Even though they’d only recently become acquainted, it was clear Sawyer Banks wasn’t a man who liked to have his plans thwarted.
Nevertheless, a prayer of thanks winged its way Heavenward. Sawyer didn’t seem to personally hold her teenage infractions against her and had agreed not to share them with the Selbys as long as she kept her part of the bargain.
She wanted this job. How often in the past week had she relived her encounter with the orphaned Cubby and his grandfather at the ice cream shop? Recalled how it had hit too close to home? She wanted to be here for the little guy and his brother. She needed to be here to hold them and hug them when tears flowed. But she had no intention of sharing with Sawyer her impressions of that chance—or divine?—meeting or what convinced her to change her mind about applying for the job.
He wouldn’t understand.
“What did Ray and Therese say—” Sawyer’s gaze probed “—when you told them you’d also be working part-time at the Outpost?”
He hadn’t initially been pleased last week when she insisted that she’d tell them before accepting any job offer. “They were good with it.”
He looked at her doubtfully.
She didn’t attempt to elaborate. Couldn’t, in fact, because there was nothing else to tell except that Therese and Ray had exchanged a look, the significance of which she didn’t understand. Then Ray nodded and thanked her for telling them.
That was it.
So why did Sawyer seem to think they might not be pleased?
“Is there something you’re not telling me about your relationship with the Selbys?”
“What makes you think that?”
“You weren’t thrilled when I told you I was going to be up front with them about plans to work for you, and now you’re doubting me when I told you they didn’t have any problems with it. Obviously, you anticipated they might.”
“What can I say? It’s awkward. You know, their daughter being married to my dad. Me being a half brother to the product of that union. Me being an age most would expect the twins’ father to be. I’m part of the family, yet not really. It’s hard to figure out how I’m supposed to fit into the boys’ lives. Into Therese’s and Ray’s.”
She could see how that connection would be a problematic one, for the Selbys and Sawyer alike. Definitely complex. Maybe that’s all there was to the tension she’d sensed this morning. Nothing more.
Ready to move away from unsettling topics, she nodded to the wad of paper towels in his hand, her nose wrinkling. “Thanks for disposing of that. I hope I won’t need it.”
He laughed. “Naw. I think you’ll be fine.”
“I’ll remind myself of your words if I hear any rustling in the kitchen during the deep dark hours of the night.”
He lifted his hand that held the trap. “Call me. Any hour. Day or night. I’ll be on your doorstep.”
Her cheeks warmed as their gazes met.
“I’d better get going.” He moved toward the door to the hallway. “I have errands to run before I open up shop this morning and I need to let you get to your unpacking.”
“Lots to do.” She motioned to the stacks of boxes. “I guess I’ll talk to you next week, then?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Yeah, it was a plan alright. That is, unless she needed the mousetrap reset after all...
* * *
Sawyer had barely climbed into his crew-cab pickup when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, then grimaced. Kyle Guthridge.
“Yo, Sawyer.” His friend’s west Texas drawl echoed in his ear despite the fact the man had lived in Arizona since he was twelve. “Got your phone message that you’ll be late on tomorrow’s payment.”
At least
he had the generosity of spirit not to say “again.” Sawyer cringed inwardly, acutely aware of the risk his longtime friend had knowingly taken in extending the loan, probably one his wife had loudly protested.
“My apologies, Kyle. Temporary cash-flow problem. But I’ll be able to make a deposit by the end of next week and will drop off a check then.”
“I totally get the cash-flow issue and don’t mean to badger you.”
“It won’t happen again.” But this was the second time in four months. He prided himself on his integrity. His financial responsibility. But since early last summer he’d been hammered by one unbudgeted expense after another, most related to building maintenance. Plumbing. Electrical. And who’d have thought a new roof and replacing a furnace large enough for a retail space would cost that much?
That series of events had led him to approach a few buddies for personal loans rather than the bank where he’d taken over Grandpa’s mortgage payments on the Outpost. But he’d sell his pop-up camper or his fishing boat before he’d allow a payment to be delayed a third time.
“You’re not badgering,” Sawyer continued, embarrassed for his friend at having to speak up as much as he was for himself. “We’re friends, but we’re also businessmen.”
“That we are.” Kyle paused. “I don’t suppose you’re going to the play at the church next Friday night, are you? Annie and I are taking the kids. Family friendly. You could bring the check with you. That would save you a trip to my place.”
Kyle lived a distance out of town, off a branching series of dirt roads that weren’t well maintained in the winter months. But a church play geared toward youngsters? Not exactly high on his couldn’t-wait-to-do list.
“I won’t be able to swing that, but you’ll have your check on Friday. Guaranteed.” He wouldn’t drop the check off in advance of making the deposit, though. Kyle had been known to get preoccupied—okay, absentminded, to be more accurate—and giving it to him early could risk premature cashing and bouncing of the check. “Thanks for the extension.”
“You’re welcome, buddy. Have a good rest of your week.”