“No, no,
nooooo. I don’t want her — ”
The intercom went silent.
Maddy and Ella exchanged glances in the rearview mirror.
Maddy pushed the button. “Sounds like this isn’t a great time.” She put the big car
in reverse.
The soft tsking sound of Ella sucking her thumb came from the backseat. Maddy’s brow
furrowed. She’d been the nanny long enough to know this was a sign of stress or fatigue
in her charge — and there was no reason Ella should be tired. Was she pushing to Ella
too hard? Was she scarred for life by having to pee on the roadside?
Maybe I’m not cut out for this. I’ve got input from the therapist, teachers, my mom
and I still feel like I’m failing this kid.
Chapter 9
Asher’s first evening alone with Ella since Maddy had come to stay with them would
be easy. He was standing in the foyer when Maddy arrived downstairs and he got a whiff
of her. Perfume. She didn’t ordinarily wear it and he wrinkled his nose. It was a
nice scent, lightly floral, but he preferred her usual, natural scent. Wait — he knew
what she usually smelled like?
Her hair fell in gentle waves past her shoulders, gleaming. A short mini-skirt hugged
her body and was topped off by a tight, lacy, gray-blue camisole peeking out from
the form fitting cashmere hoodie. Tall boots with a low heel completed the outfit.
He couldn’t keep the disapproval from his face.
“Something wrong?” Maddy asked as she approached him.
He shook his head.
Maddy twisted her fingers nervously.
“Asher, are you sure … ” her voice trailed off as she caught his expression and
she laughed.
“I know. I know. You can handle one five-year-old girl.” She smiled and his heart
rate doubled.
What was wrong with him?
Why did he keep having to remind himself she was off limits? He liked her for Christ’s
sake. More than that, he needed her. Ella loved her. The libido would stay in check.
There were plenty of women available to him, but Madeline Anderson was not one of
them.
“Have a great time. We will,” he said dismissively, turning on his heel.
He stalked into the kitchen where Ella was coloring at the table.
She looked up. “Has Maddy left?”
“She’s in the hallway.”
Ella scooted out of her chair and rushed to find her. The child returned moments later
smiling, resumed her seat and finished coloring her picture, singing to herself.
He opened the fridge to find his Coke and sitting on the top shelf was a plate with
plain chicken, brown rice and broccoli covered in plastic wrap, a note on top.
The note instructed him to zap the plate in the microwave for thirty seconds. He rolled
his eyes, grabbed the soda, poured it out into a glass sitting on the island and found
another note.
“Bedtime: eight P.M. ”
He balled it up and considered setting the damn thing on fire. She didn’t give him
any credit. Then again, he
had
made a mess of things the first few weeks. He still wouldn’t win any parenting awards,
but he was improving. He didn’t need a series of notes coaching him.
“Ella, want to go out for dinner?”
Her eyes lit up. “Pizza?”
“Steak?”
She considered him. “With ketchup?”
“Ketchup,” he agreed, shuddering. It was criminal the way the child adulterated food.
He glanced at his watch. Almost six. They’d leave in a few minutes. He’d just brought
the soda to his lips when his phone rang. He inspected his screen. Ah, Spade’s new
producer. He’d been anticipating this call all day. “Ella, want to watch a show?”
He took the call as he set up the TV program for her in the living room.
When he finally got off the phone, he glanced at his watch again. Almost an hour had
passed. He collected Ella and her jacket, pulled on his own then snagged his keys
and phone. They were finally sitting down at the restaurant close to eight. Ella was
complaining and he remembered what Maddy had said about kids getting hungry so he
asked
nooooo. I don’t want her — ”
The intercom went silent.
Maddy and Ella exchanged glances in the rearview mirror.
Maddy pushed the button. “Sounds like this isn’t a great time.” She put the big car
in reverse.
The soft tsking sound of Ella sucking her thumb came from the backseat. Maddy’s brow
furrowed. She’d been the nanny long enough to know this was a sign of stress or fatigue
in her charge — and there was no reason Ella should be tired. Was she pushing to Ella
too hard? Was she scarred for life by having to pee on the roadside?
Maybe I’m not cut out for this. I’ve got input from the therapist, teachers, my mom
and I still feel like I’m failing this kid.
Chapter 9
Asher’s first evening alone with Ella since Maddy had come to stay with them would
be easy. He was standing in the foyer when Maddy arrived downstairs and he got a whiff
of her. Perfume. She didn’t ordinarily wear it and he wrinkled his nose. It was a
nice scent, lightly floral, but he preferred her usual, natural scent. Wait — he knew
what she usually smelled like?
Her hair fell in gentle waves past her shoulders, gleaming. A short mini-skirt hugged
her body and was topped off by a tight, lacy, gray-blue camisole peeking out from
the form fitting cashmere hoodie. Tall boots with a low heel completed the outfit.
He couldn’t keep the disapproval from his face.
“Something wrong?” Maddy asked as she approached him.
He shook his head.
Maddy twisted her fingers nervously.
“Asher, are you sure … ” her voice trailed off as she caught his expression and
she laughed.
“I know. I know. You can handle one five-year-old girl.” She smiled and his heart
rate doubled.
What was wrong with him?
Why did he keep having to remind himself she was off limits? He liked her for Christ’s
sake. More than that, he needed her. Ella loved her. The libido would stay in check.
There were plenty of women available to him, but Madeline Anderson was not one of
them.
“Have a great time. We will,” he said dismissively, turning on his heel.
He stalked into the kitchen where Ella was coloring at the table.
She looked up. “Has Maddy left?”
“She’s in the hallway.”
Ella scooted out of her chair and rushed to find her. The child returned moments later
smiling, resumed her seat and finished coloring her picture, singing to herself.
He opened the fridge to find his Coke and sitting on the top shelf was a plate with
plain chicken, brown rice and broccoli covered in plastic wrap, a note on top.
The note instructed him to zap the plate in the microwave for thirty seconds. He rolled
his eyes, grabbed the soda, poured it out into a glass sitting on the island and found
another note.
“Bedtime: eight P.M. ”
He balled it up and considered setting the damn thing on fire. She didn’t give him
any credit. Then again, he
had
made a mess of things the first few weeks. He still wouldn’t win any parenting awards,
but he was improving. He didn’t need a series of notes coaching him.
“Ella, want to go out for dinner?”
Her eyes lit up. “Pizza?”
“Steak?”
She considered him. “With ketchup?”
“Ketchup,” he agreed, shuddering. It was criminal the way the child adulterated food.
He glanced at his watch. Almost six. They’d leave in a few minutes. He’d just brought
the soda to his lips when his phone rang. He inspected his screen. Ah, Spade’s new
producer. He’d been anticipating this call all day. “Ella, want to watch a show?”
He took the call as he set up the TV program for her in the living room.
When he finally got off the phone, he glanced at his watch again. Almost an hour had
passed. He collected Ella and her jacket, pulled on his own then snagged his keys
and phone. They were finally sitting down at the restaurant close to eight. Ella was
complaining and he remembered what Maddy had said about kids getting hungry so he
asked
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