: Chapter 4

“So, what do you want to know?” Margot asks as she plays with the pillow she placed in her lap.

She offered to give me a quick tour of the upstairs and we ended up in her room which is practically spotless. Not at all how I kept my room when I was sixteen which was like a tornado had ripped through it at all times. I get the feeling that Margot may be more mature than the average sixteen-year-old, and I wonder how she got this way.

“Well, first, I want you to know that I realize that you’re older and may not need the same level of supervision,” I tell her. “I also know that you’ve been doing a lot to help your dad with your siblings and I want you to know in case he hasn’t told you, that it doesn’t go unnoticed.” She nods and I continue. “I lost my mom when I was fifteen as well, so…I get some of the things you may be going through.” I clear my throat in preparation for her protest. “Or maybe I don’t, but I’m available to talk about that…if you want.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I don’t need another shrink.”

“And I’m not licensed to be one. At least not yet,” I tell her as I shake my head. “But in case you wanted to talk to someone who also went through her most important teen years without their mother, I can commiserate.”

“Is this the spiel where you tell me you want to be friends?” she asks and it’s the first glimpse of that signature sixteen-year-old girl attitude.

“No, I’m too old to be your friend, and I’m going to assume you are in no shortage of them.” I narrow my eyes at her. “You strike me as the popular type.” Genetics have been good to her. Naturally tan with a dusting of freckles and gorgeous glossy hair with natural highlights that women spend thousands of dollars trying to obtain.

A smile pulls at her lips. “So, what are you then…if not my nanny or my friend.”

My eyes meet hers and I can see the guard she has up. I wonder how hard it’ll be for her to let me in. “I don’t know yet. I’m going to let you decide the kind of relationship you want us to have.”

“Me?”

“Sure.” I shrug. The biggest pressing concern I think there is with Margot is the boyfriend and the possibility of her sneaking out, but if I’m living here, my presence will fix that on its own. I don’t need to explicitly tell her I serve as her personal warden.

“Okay…” she says reluctantly, like she’s not exactly sure of my angle.

“So, your dad says that you’re a cheerleader and have practices every day after school?” She nods. “And until now, you’ve been coming home after school to relieve your uncle who picks up your siblings?”

“Right.”

“So, given that I’m here now and you aren’t forced to come straight home, what will you do with that free time?” I ask her.

Her eyebrows pinch together like she’s contemplating the answer. “I don’t know. I…like spending time with Isla and helping her with her little bit of homework.”

“Oh, well…that’s lovely. I’m sure she enjoys that time with you.”

“She does.”

“Are you close with your siblings?”

She nods. “We have to be. We’re all we’ve got.”

“Well, you have your dad.”

She chuckles. “Sure, but you’re here because a lot of the time our dad is not. Yes, we’ve got him in the general sense but not always for day-to-day stuff. I forge his signature on half of all of our things for school.” She clears her throat. “I mean, he knows,” she clarifies. “I tell him when I do. It’s just easier.”

“Probably a lot on you though.”

She shrugs. “It’s okay.” And a part of me wonders if she really thinks that or if she’s just trying to make things easier on everyone else.

“Do you know why your brother is acting out?”

She snorts. “No. I told him to stop, and no offense, if I can’t get him to, no one can.”

“Fair, but you have to have some idea?”

“Isn’t the obvious answer that he wants attention from our dad and misses our mom?” She shrugs and her lips form a straight line.

“Of course, I just wasn’t sure if there was more to it. Maybe something at school that your dad isn’t privy to.”

“No, school is where the Kincaid kids thrive.” She laughs. “We all excel and have friends. SJ acting out is a new thing but he’s still the smartest in his grade. They are practically begging my dad to move him up a year but that would move him to middle school and I honestly think my dad just hasn’t been ready to have us at three different schools yet.” I detect a hint of resentment in her voice and I wonder if she’s among the people begging him to move her brother up.

Our conversation is cut short when Isla comes bounding into the room excitedly and hops on the bed between me and Margot. She’s wearing an orange short-sleeved sundress with an orange hat backward and two low bun pigtails sticking out beneath it. I’m surprised not to see sunglasses but I suppose the hat serves as her accessory today. “Hi, Ellie! When did you get here?”

“Not long ago. I was just getting to know Margot a little.”

“Do you want to have a tea party?” she asks swinging her feet.

“Well, I’m not staying for much longer today, but how about on Monday when you get home from school?” I ask her, not wanting to blatantly tell her no while also giving her something to look forward to.

“You’ll be here?” she asks enthusiastically.

“I will be here.” I nod.

“Daddy says you’re going to live here now. Does that mean we can have sleepovers?”

Margot chuckles and tugs on one of her buns. “She’s not here for play. She’s here to help, Isles.”

She gives me a little pout and just as I’m about to tell her that sometimes we can have sleepovers, their father appears in the doorway.

“Daddy!” Isla hops off the bed and runs straight at him. He scoops her up and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Hi, Princess. Listen, I have to run to the office to grab a brief, but I should be back in an hour or so.”

Isla immediately frowns and begins to kick her feet. “But you said we could get ice cream!”

He sets her down and kneels in front of her. “And we still can…” My heart squeezes in my chest over the fact that he looks just as disappointed as she does.

“Nuh uh, last time you said that, you weren’t back to tuck me in!” Remembering he called her the happy-go-lucky child, I’m wondering what exactly constitutes that in his eyes.

“I won’t be that late, I promise.”

She huffs and puts her hands on her hips. Instantly, I watch him remove them, keeping her hands encased in his. Okay, so he keeps the sass in check. That’s good. “I have to go, Angel. I’m sorry.”

“Can Margot take me?”

He looks up at his eldest daughter and she nods; I’m guessing this is how a lot of these conversations go. “Sure, honey.” He stands up and looks at Margot.

“There’s a football game tonight, so I’m cheering,” Margot explains.

“What time?”

“Eight,” Margot says and he sighs.

I’m guessing even he thinks he could be gone a little longer than the hour he promised.

“I can…stay a little longer,” I tell them. “Just in case Margot has to go before you’re back.”

His eyes meet mine and I can see the relief in his eyes from just that one sentence. Like he’s not used to things ever being that easy. “Let’s talk for a minute before I leave,” he says waving me toward the door.

“Do you want to come get ice cream?” Isla grabs my hand and squeezes.

I turn toward her and her sister. “No, I think I better stay here with your brother. Kids that are grounded don’t get ice cream,” I tell her as I follow their dad out the door. I see he’s changed since I got here, making me think that he probably just received a call requiring him to leave. He’s not in a suit, but he’s definitely in business casual with black slacks and a gray polo.

“I’m sorry. I was not expecting this and I’d ask River to stay but…”

“It’s absolutely not a problem. I’ll be here in two days anyway,” I tell him as we make our way down the stairs and toward his office. The house isn’t obscenely large but just big enough that I may get lost the first few times I go exploring.

He closes the door behind me and instantly hands me a key and a folder of his own. “Just codes for things and details about the kids. Isla has a nut allergy and while I think she’s growing out of it, she does get a stomach ache or a little itchy and uncomfortable if she comes into contact with it.”

“Does she have an EpiPen?”

“She used to but we’ve never needed it. Her mother was very good about…all of that.” I shift nervously in my seat and I wonder if he’s confused by my response because he continues speaking. “Margot and SJ are both really good about paying attention as well and even Isla knows certain things to stay away from or to ask if she’s not sure. You won’t have to—”

“No, that’s not it. My last family had a child with a severe nut allergy to the point that I carried one of his EpiPens. I just…you said their mother was good and that Margot and SJ are but you didn’t say you are.” I blink at him. “And now I’m thinking you’re going to be offended that I asked.”

He clears his throat. “We’ve had two instances since she moved in. Both times it was just me and her, so she’s not thinking to ask because I’m her dad and why would I not know what I’m feeding her? I wasn’t even thinking.” He swallows and I can see the guilt all over his face. I feel like shit for bringing it up and making him feel bad for something I know he beats himself up for. “I have antihistamines and she’s very good about telling you if something doesn’t feel right.”

“I see.” I nod. “Any other allergies?” I ask while I flip through the papers inside. Most of the information is things like their favorite foods and snacks, information on their after-school activities, bedtimes for SJ and Isla, and how long SJ can be on any kind of gaming console per day.

“No.”

“Mr. Kincaid—”

“Rowan,” he corrects for the second time.

“I think I’ll stick to Mr. Kincaid if you’re going to keep calling me Elianna,” I tell him with a small smile. Not to mention, I’ve never called any of the parents by their first names. It kept a line of professionalism I didn’t want to cross.

“Fine. You were saying?”

“I think you’re doing a great job. I don’t know exactly what it’s like to be a single parent, but I was raised by one for a while and I know it’s tough, and sometimes you feel like you aren’t doing anything right. You don’t ever have a second to breathe or I don’t know…have one hour to do something for yourself. I hope having me here helps you breathe a little easier.” I give him a small smile. “Even when you think I’m giving you a hard time.”

The smile reaches his eyes and while I’m happy to see him at ease, I wish the sight didn’t make my heart flutter. “I appreciate that,” he says.

I nod before standing up and then I’m out the door.

Hours later, Margot has left for the football game and their father still hasn’t returned from the office much to Isla’s annoyance. While the ice cream she got with Margot lessened the burn slightly, I could see the disappointment all over her face when it was time for her to go to bed and her father still wasn’t home. He FaceTimed her to say goodnight and apologized, promising they could do something the next day. She was more than thrilled that I was willing to read her two books before she went to sleep.

It’s now nearing eight-thirty and Sawyer is sitting in the kitchen while I put the leftovers from dinner in Tupperware dishes. I learned that none of the Kincaid children are picky when it comes to food and I was shocked that all three of them loved the four-cheese rigatoni I made. Margot even managed to eat a few bites before she left and threatened SJ not to eat it all before she got home.

For the other kids I took care of, I was used to making an emergency grilled cheese or chicken tenders if one of them wasn’t into what I made. I didn’t believe in being a short-order cook, but I don’t believe in sending kids to bed hungry if they honestly try what I make and genuinely don’t like it.

“So, what’s your story?” Sawyer asks as he takes a bite of ice cream. While I didn’t let him go with the girls to get ice cream earlier, Margot conveniently didn’t finish the majority of hers and offered it to her brother. I can’t deny that it makes me smile how sweet the three of them are with each other. I’ve nannied for more than a few families whose kids were at the age where they wouldn’t spit on the other if they were on fire, so it’s refreshing to see their dynamic.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I wipe the counters down.

“Where are you from? Did you go to college? Siblings? You got a boyfriend?”

I shoot him a look at his invasive last question. “Are you always so nosy?”

“Yes.” He nods as he taps his spoon against the ceramic bowl like he’s waiting for my answer.

“I’m from Ohio. I moved here for college and I went to the University of Maryland where I studied psychology. I’m in graduate school now to be a child psychologist. I have two younger sisters. One still lives in Ohio with her husband and daughter and my youngest sister is in her first year at Yale,” I tell him.

“Yale?” His eyes light up. “So, she’s really smart? Does she like it?”

“She does. Why do you ask, are you thinking about going there?”

He shrugs non-committedly. “My dad wants us looking at all the Ivy’s.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I’m ten. I don’t know what I want yet.”

“With the intelligence of what…a sixteen-year-old?” He shrugs again and I narrow my eyes at him. “Okay, boy genius.”

“You didn’t answer my last question.”

“Do you think that’s your business?” I ask while raising an eyebrow.

“Ummm, yes? Especially if he shows up here to take you out or something. That would be a problem for my uncle who wants to ask you out,” he says before taking another bite of ice cream.

I blink at him in surprise. “Did he put you up to this? Because you have no chill.”

“No, but I’m sure he’ll be curious.”

“Well, I am currently unattached,” I tell him. “It’s hard when I’m nannying anyway. Do you have a girlfriend? Or are girls still gross?”

“Not gross. There is a girl…in my class.”

“Oh?”

“She’s cool,” he says while not meeting my gaze and I resist the urge to giggle at his flamed cheeks.

“Is she the reason you’re acting out at school? For her attention?”

“Don’t shrink me,” he scoffs.

“Don’t avoid the question.”

The sound of the garage door opening stops our conversation and just before we hear the door open, Sawyer shakes his head at me as if to say not to say anything in front of his dad.

“This conversation is not over,” I say as I point at him and he rolls his eyes dramatically.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” Rowan says as he makes his way through the door carrying a stack of files under his arm that he did not leave with.

“Isla’s pissed,” SJ says through another bite of ice cream and I frown at him just in time for Rowan to respond.

“Don’t say ‘pissed.’”

“Well, she is!” He slides the bowl across the counter to me and I look at it and then back at him and then back at the bowl before raising an eyebrow at him. He sighs, reading my look before getting up and grabbing the bowl to rinse it himself.

“She was fine. We read a few books and she went down easily. No tears.” I smile at Rowan. “But you probably do need to make it up to her tomorrow.”

He nods and makes his way around the island in the center of the massive kitchen to open the refrigerator. “Thank you and thank you for staying.” He pulls his eyes away from the Tupperware and looks at me in question. “You cooked?”

“Yeah, and it was great,” Sawyer chimes in from the sink before he puts his dish in the dishwasher. “She said she’s going to make tacos next week.”

Rowan looks at me. “So, you’ve learned the way to my kids’ hearts is through their stomachs then?” He looks impressed.

“I am not that easy,” Sawyer says before he heads out of the kitchen. “I’m going to my room. Night, Dad. Night, Elles,” he says and I smile at the nickname he’s already created for me.

“I’ll be up in a bit to say goodnight,” Rowan calls after him.

After a few moments, Rowan peeks his head out of the kitchen toward the stairs, presumably to make sure Sawyer isn’t within earshot. “How did it go?”

“Oh! So smooth,” I tell him. “You have great kids, Mr. Kincaid. I know it’s only day one but believe it or not, I’ve found that the most important dynamic for kids is the one between their siblings. If things are good between them, everything else will fall into place. Margot said that they are all each other has.” I study Rowan’s reaction, wondering how he’ll take that and he doesn’t seem to flinch.

“That’s good. I’m glad they’ve had each other. My brother and I have always been close and I’m glad they have that.” He puts the bowl in the microwave.

“Do you have any other siblings?”

“No, just us.”

“He’s younger?”

“Yeah. He looks it, huh?” He chuckles and I shake my head. Yes, he does look younger and has fewer gray hairs and may be a bit more in shape due to the differences in their jobs, but Rowan looks distinguished and gorgeous and way more my type. He looks like a man who might moonlight as a model between his long nights at the office.

“Not necessarily, I can just tell from the one interaction I saw earlier.” I smile. “Perks of the job, I guess.”

He pulls his food out of the microwave and sits on one of the stools. “Did Margot say when she’d be home?”

“She didn’t, but I assume she has a curfew?”

“I mean she usually comes in before twelve,” he answers easily and without looking at me like it’s the most normal thing in the world for a sixteen-year-old girl not to have a curfew.

I furrow my brows curiously. “But she doesn’t have an explicit time to be home?”

“She usually just texts me if she’s going to be late, but once it gets to a certain hour, she usually just sleeps wherever she is.”

“Do you always know where she is?”

“I have her location and she knows better than to be somewhere late at night that I don’t know. I’ve thoroughly vetted all of her friends’ parents,” he says with a chuckle.

“Well, that’s good, but what if they’re out of town?” His fork hovers near his mouth and he looks at me like the thought never crossed his mind.

“Huh, I hadn’t thought of that.” He rubs his forehead.

“Remember what kids were doing when we were young?” I clear my throat. “Well, when you were young. I wasn’t even thought of, but you get what I mean.”

He gives me a look followed by a fake laugh. “Thanks.”

“If your system works, I won’t rock the boat for now, but there is going to come a time when she tries to come in the house at a ridiculous hour because, ‘I didn’t know when my curfew was,’” I say as I mimic Margot. “Teenagers will take a mile if you give them this much,” I add holding my thumb and index finger less than an inch apart.

“Noted.”

“Especially if she’s given all this free time since I’m here. You didn’t worry about that as much I assume because she had to be home to help. All I’m saying is I’m keeping my eye on her.” I cross my arms over my chest.

“I appreciate that,” he says. “A lot.” He clears his throat. “You’ve been here less than a day and I already feel like things are…easier.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” I smile and watch as his eyes drop to my lips instantly before he drops his gaze to his food.

I let out a breath, trying to ignore the tingly feeling shooting through me from just that look. “I should probably head out.”

“Right. Let me walk you out,” he says as he gets up from his stool.

“Oh, no, please eat. I’m fine. I don’t think any trouble will come from here to my car in this fancy neighborhood.” I giggle and he doesn’t move to sit back down.

“It’s dark,” he counters.

“It’s barely nine o’clock,” I argue back.

“God, you’re worse than SJ. Can you not argue with me?” He groans and the gravelly sound of his voice makes my nipples tighten in my shirt.

I have got to get this under control.

I roll my eyes and grab my jacket and my purse off the chair. “Fiiine,” I say as I walk toward the door.

I hear him behind me and before I can reach the front door, I see his hand dart out to open it for me. I wish on top of everything else this man wasn’t chivalrous. We walk down the stairs slowly in silence, only the sounds of nature surrounding us when his voice cuts through the air.

“I spoke with some of your references by the way.”

“Oh?” I say just as we hit the bottom step.

We are a few steps from my car when he speaks up again. “You got rave reviews. Everyone said that I’m lucky to have you.”