The Summer of Sunshine and Margot

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The Summer of Sunshine and Margot Page 30

by Susan Mallery


  Sunshine reached for another chip.

  Margot glared at her. “This is where you offer advice.”

  “Hey, I’m not good at relationships. I mean I’m totally team Margot and I wish you the best, but it’s not like I have experience making things work. I usually find a guy, sleep with him and then if he invites me to fly around the world, I disrupt my life for the next six or eight weeks, get dumped or leave, then start all over again. Do you really want me telling you what to do when it comes to your love life?”

  “I guess not.” Margot sighed. “I blame our mother.”

  “I do, too, but seeing as she died and, before that, neither of us had seen her since we were toddlers, it’s not particularly helpful. Although you should probably tell Alec you love him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because falling for someone who isn’t Dietrich is a really big step and acknowledging your feelings sends a message to the universe.”

  “I’d rather win his heart,” she muttered, then tilted her head. “Wait. Should I want to win his heart? Or should he offer his heart? Are there rules for any of this?”

  “Again, asking the wrong person.”

  “We’re hopeless,” Margot said with a sigh.

  “Yes, but we look good and seriously, what else matters?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The following Saturday morning, Sunshine headed for Santa Monica. It was early—barely after seven. Morning fog had rolled in so she knew the beach would be deserted and the sidewalks empty. No one purposefully went to the beach on a foggy morning—except her.

  She had a plan—she was going to have breakfast at a cute little coffee shop she’d always liked, read the paper, then walk on the beach. Today was going to be about relaxing and recharging. Not that her schedule was especially difficult, but a little “me time” was always welcome. Plus, Declan was leaving on a business trip and would be gone about ten days. While he was away, she would be on Connor duty 24-7.

  She exited the freeway and quickly found parking. She walked into the coffee shop and was immediately seated at a small table by the window. She glanced at the menu to see if it was as she remembered and saw nothing had changed. Her California Scramble was still front and center. The kids’ section was also the same.

  Her gaze dropped to the smiling cartoon zoo animals in the margin and lingered on the second item from the bottom: Pancake-orama. The twins had always loved that breakfast, one with blueberries and one with bananas. How many Sunday mornings had she and the twins walked over to have breakfast while their parents slept in? Parents with high-powered careers and little time for or interest in their daughters.

  Sunshine had done her best with the girls, right up until she met a guy on a motorcycle who had offered to take her to Texas and teach her to rope a steer. A couple of drinks, a good time in bed and before she’d thought things through, she’d quit her job and she’d been gone.

  She’d left with almost no warning, texting Elle, the twins’ mother, who’d been in Paris at the time. Or was it Rome? Their father had called to scream at her that he couldn’t get out of a meeting to go get his daughters and that he had plans for the night. He’d threatened to sue her. Each of the girls had texted to ask where she was and when the guilt had gotten too bad, she’d dumped the phone in a trash can in Arizona and had never looked back.

  Sunshine realized she hadn’t anticipated the memories joining her for breakfast. She probably should have thought that through before driving down here. Or maybe she’d subconsciously known what would happen and had accepted she had to deal with her past, the ugly moments that she couldn’t atone for. She’d been wrong to leave the way she had. Not just the twins but the other kids she’d looked after. She’d left Texas for London nearly a year after she’d left Santa Monica for Texas. All that might be behind her, but the shattered lives still bore scars.

  She realized she couldn’t stay for breakfast. Not now. She was too embarrassed, too ashamed. She should have picked a different beach and a different coffee shop. She collected her bag and as she stood, she came face-to-face with a furious woman on the other side of the plate glass window.

  “It is you!” Elle screamed. “Oh my God!”

  She started to open the restaurant door but Sunshine hurried to meet her outside where at least the conversation wouldn’t disrupt everyone’s breakfast.

  “How dare you show up here?” Elle demanded as Sunshine approached. “You’re disgusting, you whore. You left them. You left my daughters—you disappeared with no warning. You didn’t even have the courtesy to tell them yourself. You never answered their texts or explained. They were devastated. They cried for weeks. I had to put them in therapy to get over the fucking nanny.”

  Elle’s eyes were wild. Saliva flew with each word. She was small, but still appeared threatening. “I had to fly home from my business trip and their father missed work because of you. I will hate you forever. You’re a horrible, selfish person and I hope you die alone. It’s one thing to screw with my life, but you hurt my children and for that you should suffer.”

  Before Sunshine could figure out what to say or if it would be better to simply bolt, Elle slapped her hard across the face, then stalked away.

  Sunshine stood alone on the sidewalk. She knew everyone in the restaurant was watching her, everyone had heard. She wanted to say it wasn’t that bad, but everything Elle had said was true. She had left the girls with no warning, hadn’t gotten in touch with them. She’d left children before, but not like that. Never so cruelly.

  She walked to her car and got inside, then rested her forehead on the steering wheel and began to cry.

  * * *

  By nine-thirty in the evening, Declan started to get worried. He hadn’t seen Sunshine all day and while she was welcome to do what she would like on her days off, she usually made an appearance.

  He told himself she could come and go as she liked. That it was possible she was spending the evening with her sister, or maybe she was out on a date. Or possibly right this second she was in some guy’s bed, having the time of her life. It wasn’t his business—not any of it. Only he didn’t want to think about her out on a date and he sure as hell didn’t want her doing it with a random stranger, or even someone she knew, for that matter, unless that someone was him, which it couldn’t be and, damn, was he messed up.

  Connor was in bed, the house was quiet and Declan didn’t know what to do with himself. He paced the long hallway leading to his bedroom, then decided to check the garage one more time. Maybe she’d come home when he’d been putting Connor to bed or something.

  He pushed open the door and saw that her car was parked next to his. The cracks and pings of cooling metal told him she hadn’t been back very long. Relief eased some of his concern. She was home and therefore all right. Fine. He would read for a bit before calling it a night himself.

  Only he couldn’t seem to make his way back to his bedroom. Something in his gut said there was a problem, although he had no idea why. He had never been very emotionally intuitive.

  Still, he found himself heading for the kitchen. Sunshine wasn’t there, nor was she in the family room. That left her bedroom which was completely off-limits. He didn’t go in there, ever, and he wasn’t going to start now.

  He turned to walk purposefully toward his room, only as he went by the windows, he saw her in the backyard. She was stretched out in one of the chaises on the patio. It was dark, it was cool and she’d never done anything like that before. Even knowing he should stay out of whatever it was, he opened the back door and stepped outside.

  “Hey,” he said as he approached. “Did you just get back?”

  “I did.”

  Her voice was low and soft and he couldn’t tell anything from her tone.

  He hesitated for a second, then sat on the chaise beside hers, angled to face her, his feet on the concrete. It
was dark enough that he couldn’t see much of her face so he had no idea what she was thinking.

  “Did you have a good day off?” he asked, really wanting to know that she was okay so he could retreat to his room and entertain himself with inappropriate fantasies about what could never be.

  “It was peachy.”

  She turned as she spoke and the light caught her profile. She was crying.

  Concern almost had him pulling her into his arms before he reminded himself to stay where he was and communicate through his words.

  “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “Oh, you know. The usual. My past caught up with me and slapped me really hard.” She touched her cheek. “In this case, literally.”

  He couldn’t figure out what she was saying. “Someone hit you?”

  She looked away. “I’m fine, Declan. Or I will be.”

  Now he could hear the tears in her voice, the thickness of the pain, whatever it was.

  “What happened? Tell me. Or tell me to go away and I’ll leave you alone. Sunshine, I want to help but I don’t know what to do.”

  She drew in a breath. “You really don’t want to know. Trust me. I’m not who you think. I’m a terrible person. You should fire me. I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s true. I can’t be trusted with anyone’s kids.”

  “Now you’re not making sense.”

  She looked at him. “Do you remember when you interviewed me and asked about my references? How everyone said I was the best nanny ever, if only you could get me to stay?”

  He nodded, not sure what this had to do with whatever was bothering her.

  “That’s not the half of it. That in no way describes what I’ve done.” She pulled herself forward on the chaise, so she was sitting facing him, their knees nearly touching.

  “I’m good with kids,” she said, staring at her lap, her hair hanging down, shielding her face. “Really good. Probably because I like hanging out with them. I enjoy their company and being involved with their lives. When you’re a nanny, that’s the job description—to get involved. Most contracts are for a year and everyone knows that. But telling a kid you’ll be gone in a year doesn’t mean anything to them. When you’re five or eight or ten, a year is a lifetime. It’s a faraway place and it’s not today so it doesn’t matter.”

  She brushed away tears. “There are ways to handle leaving. You start having the conversation about a month before. You get them ready. You deal with the acting up, the crying, the begging. Or so I’ve been told. Because I’ve never done it. I’ve never left the way you’re supposed to.”

  She looked at him, her expression stark. “I leave. That’s what I do, Declan. What I’ve always done. I meet some guy and decide he’s the one and take off, usually with nothing more than a quick note or a phone call. My grandmother left my mother. My mother left us. And I leave them.”

  She turned away. “It’s the worst part of me. It’s the dark ugly side everyone wants to keep hidden, but it’s right there for all to see. It’s in my personnel file, for God’s sake.”

  He tried to make sense of everything she was saying. He heard the words but couldn’t reconcile them with the woman he knew. “What happened today?”

  “I went to Santa Monica. There’s a breakfast place I know—it’s a silly little coffee shop, but I always loved it. I used to live with a family nearby. They had twin girls. They were only seven and so adorable. Elle, their mother, is a lawyer who does a lot of international work. Their father’s in banking. They were this power couple who were never home and had little or nothing to do with their kids.”

  She looked at him. “That makes it worse, you know. The parents who aren’t involved, because then I’m all the kids have. I’d never experienced it before, until the twins. They were so lonely and sad and they bonded with me instantly. I stayed for nearly eight months and then I met a guy.”

  She twisted her hands together and shook her head. “It happened like it always happened. He was great and I fell for him. After a couple of nights he invited me to go with him to Texas. He was going to teach me to rope a steer. I thought it was love, so why not? I wrote the girls a note and I left.”

  The tears returned, slipping down her cheeks. “Just like that. I walked out on them and broke their hearts. I ran into Elle today and she said they were so devastated, they needed therapy. She called me names and she’s right. I was so thoughtless and awful.”

  She wiped her face. “That’s why I’m trying so hard to be different. I don’t want to be that person anymore. It’s wrong—I know it’s wrong. I get it now and I’m trying, but how do I make it right from before?”

  “Do you want to talk to the twins?” he asked.

  “No. I mean of course I do, but it would be selfish. I’d feel better, but I suspect they’d only feel worse. I don’t want that.”

  He didn’t know what to do with all that she’d told him. While he knew she was telling the truth, he couldn’t reconcile the woman in front of him with the stories she told.

  “Would you walk out on Connor?” he asked.

  “What? No! Of course not. I love him.” The tears flowed faster.

  “But one day you’ll have to leave.”

  Something he didn’t want to think about, but it was the truth. She wasn’t going to work for him forever.

  “I’ll do it the right way.” She grabbed his hands and stared into his eyes. “Declan, I swear to you. I swear. I won’t hurt him. No matter what.”

  “I believe you.”

  Without thinking he reached for her. He meant to maybe hug her or something but what he did instead was pull her onto his lap. She came willingly, settling on his thighs and burying her head in the crook of his neck where she cried so hard, her body shook. He rested one hand on her hip and rubbed her back with the other. He ignored the heat of her, the curves, the scent and thought only of her pain.

  “I want to be better,” she told him, raising her head and sniffing. “I want to be proud of myself.”

  “How are you doing on that?”

  “I don’t know. I thought I was making progress until today. I’m trying to be a better person, with college and not dating inappropriate men and working to be the best nanny I can be.”

  “You’re doing all those things.”

  “But what I did before. I can’t fix that.”

  “We’ve all done things we’re ashamed of. The point is to do better when we know better.”

  “I think for a lot of people the point is to not screw up in the first place.”

  “Very few of us have that luxury.”

  She sighed. Her breath was warm against his neck. He became less aware of her emotional pain and more aware of how she felt in his arms. It wouldn’t take much to shift her so she was straddling him. He wanted that—the feel of her hot crotch against his dick, her arms around him, her mouth on his.

  He wanted her naked, in his bed. He wanted to touch her and taste her and pleasure her, and then he wanted to fill her until she came and then he wanted to do it all again. Yup, he was an asshole. Here she was, baring her soul to him, and all he could think about was getting laid. His gender sucked and he was the suckiest member.

  She straightened and slid off his lap. For one heart-stopping second he thought she was going to hold out her hand and invite him into her bed.

  But instead, she gave him a trembling smile. “Thank you for listening to me and not judging me.”

  He carefully stayed where he was, needing the darkness to hide the physical proof of what he’d been thinking. “I would never judge you.”

  “I know and I appreciate that. Good night, Declan.”

  “Good night.”

  He waited a good two minutes after she’d gone inside. He wanted her in her room with the door closed before he moved. His erection throbbed as desire pulsed through him. He told himse
lf he was bigger than the need but he knew he was lying. Once again he would head to his room, get in the shower and do the deed. If he couldn’t have Sunshine, then he needed to find someone else he could fall for. Someone who could be a part of his life. He was the kind of guy who wanted a partner, not a party. Enough time had passed and he was ready to move on. He had to—starting now.

  * * *

  “I never thought of learning more languages,” Bianca said, sounding both intrigued and apprehensive. “I speak passable Spanish and about the same amount of Japanese.”

  Margot looked at her client. “You speak Japanese?”

  “Some. Basic conversation.”

  “You speak Japanese and you never thought to mention it to me?”

  “Why would you want to know?”

  “I don’t know—it’s an unexpected factoid.”

  “Oh, if you say so. I picked it up while I was working in Japan for a few months. I did a series of commercials. I took Alec with me, of course. We had such a wonderful time together.”

  After all these weeks, Bianca still had the ability to surprise her, Margot thought, both impressed and bemused. They sat on the sofa in the guest room, her laptop on the coffee table where they could both see the screen.

  “Any other languages?” she asked with a laugh. “Or odd skills I should know about?”

  Bianca laughed. “I don’t think so.” She pointed at the screen on Margot’s laptop. “So you think I should learn German and French.”

  “They would be the most useful, given where you’ll be living in Europe. With your acting skills and your ear for accents, you’ll probably pick them up quickly. You could impress everyone by learning Russian, but only if you want to. I don’t think it’s really going to be that helpful.”

 

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