Chapter Nine
VIVI
I tap the marker against my chin, searching for something more personal to add to the dry-erase board in my kitchen. My “Reasons to Marry Jameson” list. Something that speaks to actual feelings rather than business strategy. The marker stays poised, but nothing comes.
My phone buzzes on the counter. A text from Genevieve Holiday.
Genevieve: He finally responded. Says he'll be back when the honeymoon is over, not a day before.
My stomach drops. I’ve been nannying Adeline for a week now, which puts me five weeks away from Jameson coming home. I was hoping that somehow he’d postpone—just a little longer.
Another text follows:
Genevieve: Fix this, Vivi. Or we both lose everything.
I set my phone face down, unable to look at it anymore. The marker squeaks against the board as I add one more item to the list:
He’ll keep his inheritance
But for now, the word I'm keeping is to a little girl and her uncle, waiting for me to take her to ballet.
The ballet studio is already buzzing when Adeline and I arrive. Mothers in designer athleisure crowd the viewing area, their whispers following me as I help Adeline with her shoes.
"Isn't that the Newport heiress?" one stage-whispers. "The one who left Jameson Holiday at the altar?"
"Who leaves a man that gorgeous?" another asks.
"Maybe some secret lover? I heard that there was a getaway car waiting," another whispers.
I focus on Adeline's laces, pretending not to hear. But she notices.
"Don't listen to them," she says fiercely. "They're just jealous because you're prettier than they are and you're going to marry my uncle instead."
"Adeline…" I warn.
"Oh really? And why do you think that?" Isla asks.
"Because Uncle Trey bought Vivi a new car," then Adeline slaps her hand across her face. "Oh right, I wasn’t supposed to say anything."
Isla's laugh carries across the studio. She's sitting in the bleachers. She and Berkeley got here before us and is clearly enjoying my predicament.
"Time for class!" I practically shove her toward the dance floor. "Go line up with Berkeley."
She skips off towards the other girls lining up along the balancing beam, leaving me to face the curious stares of Seattle's elite dance moms who overheard everything. I escape to Isla's side, pretending I don't see them watching me.
"Enjoying the show?" I mutter.
"Immensely." She hands me a coffee. "So…about this car situation."
"Don't start."
"A brand new Range Rover—same trim, color, and interior as the one that Richard took from you. That's quite a grand gesture."
"Hold on. How did you know that it's identical to my company car?" I ask, my eyebrows pointed as I side-eye her.
She just stares on at the girls across the room with a smirk. "Trey called Kaenan and asked."
I shake my head. The lengths he went to for me.
"But to be honest. I bet he would have gotten it right without Kaenan. Trey is incredibly observant, and when it comes to you, he doesn't miss a thing."
I shake off her words, though they land like she wanted them to.
"It's not that big of a deal. You're blowing it out of proportion," I say, taking Trey's stance when I tried to reason with him about buying me the car yesterday. “The car is just so I can drive Adeline around." But even I don't believe that excuse anymore.
"Right." She sips her coffee, watching the girls warm up.
"I do have to confess something, though," I tell her. It's been eating at me to have no one to talk to about this. I stare over at the other dance moms that seem to be chatting amongst themselves at this point and aren't close enough to be in earshot. "I sort of kissed Trey…on accident."
She nearly chokes and spins in the bleacher to stare straight at me. "You did what? When did this happen? How did he take it?"
"It was the night he took me home from Oakley's. He was reaching for the door, and I sort of … thought he was leaning in to kiss me," I admit, both of my hands wrapping around the warm to-go paper coffee cup.
"And?"
"And nothing. We agreed that nothing more can happen because of Adeline," I say, and I wipe the light mauve lipstick stain from the opening of my coffee cup. "He's right. She's already too attached to the idea of us together."
"But you want it to happen again."
It's not a question. She knows me too well.
"It doesn't matter what I want. In five weeks, I have to marry Jameson or lose everything.
To be fair, I don't even know Trey well enough to know if something between us would even happen if I was available to do anything about it," I show her Genevieve's text.
"He's finally surfaced, by the way. Still in Greece with Natasha. "
"Forget Jameson for right now." Isla's voice turns to reason. "Let's be honest for a second here. If you were available to date someone, do you really believe that you don't know if something would happen between you two?"
"I'm not sure if I would take the risk. I've had so many bad relationships. That was part of the appeal with Jameson."
"I know. You've had some real dud exes, and I get it." She nods. "But what do you really want?"
What do I want?
I want to keep my company and do what I promised my staff I would do.
I want to prove I can succeed without my father's influence.
I want to wake up excited about my life instead of dreading another day of corporate politics, power hungry board members, and a trust fund that will probably require any children that Jameson and I have to be forced into an arranged marriage just like he and his siblings.
I want Trey's hands on me again. His lips on mine. His voice in my ear telling me all the things he'd do to me if we didn't have to stop.
"What I want doesn't matter," I say finally. "Some of us can't afford to follow our hearts."
"That's dad talking." She squeezes my hand. "You're not that girl anymore, Vivi. You don't have to do what's expected."
But don't I? My entire identity is wrapped up in Newport Staffing. In proving I'm more than just a trust fund kid playing CEO. If I lose that, what do I have left? And how many people do I let down in the process?
"You should come out with all of us to the home game tomorrow night. I already told Trey I'd pick up Adeline so you might as well come out with us. Cammy got us Everett Kauffman's owner box."
"That sounds fun. I'll ask Trey tonight to make sure that's okay with him."
Then, in the corner of my eye, I see Adeline wave over at me.
"Watch this, Vivi!" Adeline calls from the barre. She executes a perfect pirouette, beaming with pride.
My heart squeezes, and I clap for her. Then I think about how it's not only Trey I can't have.
In just over a month and a week from now, I'll have to leave her, too.
Not in the physical sense. I'll still be around for girls' night at Isla's, birthday parties, and Little Hawks practices, but I won't be her nanny anymore.
No more chocolate chip pancake mornings and a little girl taking up my entire passenger seat with all of her backpacks and after school gear.
After what Trey said about people leaving her, the thought that I will be just another person to walk out of her life has heartburn rising in my throat.
The rest of class passes in a blur. Before I know it, Isla and I are standing from the hard bleachers, intentionally designed to hope that ballet parents won't stay, is my guess, and step down onto the wood flooring to wait for the girls as their instructor gives them all a hug, dismissing each one separately.
A woman steps up to us, giving Isla a tight smile, and then turns to me. I swear she looks familiar, but I can’t place her. "Did I hear that you're Adeline's new nanny?"
"Yes, I am … temporarily. I'm Vivi," I say.
"Theresa," she says, forcing a smile as if it's almost painful. Then I register her as one of the moms who practically chased Trey out to his car the day he saved me from my wedding, but I think I’ve seen her at Oakley’s in her jersey before too?
Now I see why Trey is concerned about accidentally sleeping with a dance mom or a teacher in this town.
"Temporarily? I see," she says, a real smile coming to her cheeks now as if she's already glad to see me go.
"It's too bad that Charlotte left Trey high and dry like she did.
I offered to fill in whenever he might need me, but he never called. "
"I can guess why," Isla mutters, under a fake cough.
"You okay there, Sis?" I say, slapping her back with a good amount of force a few times as if I'm helping dislodge a chicken bone from her lungs.
"Ouch!" she groans, stepping out of my reach. "You're hurting me."
"Anyway," I say, turning back to the ballet mom who offered to help with whatever he might need. I can read between the lines. "As you were saying?"
"I just didn't realize he found someone so quickly. How convenient."
I nod dramatically. "Almost like it was written in the stars—meant to be. The right place at the right time. That sort of thing."
Her smile fades quickly, and admittedly, I'm enjoying this too much.
"Right…" she says, trying her best to keep her lips from pursing with annoyance that I'm clearly in the spot she was hoping to wiggle her push-up bra and fake Hermes handbag into.
"Well, I'd love to get the girls together for a play date sometime.
We are available most days and are happy to come to you to make it easy.
I believe Trey just bought a house in the subdivision just down the road from us. "
Oh, so now she's a stalker. This woman is a level of creepy and desperate that I can now see why Trey was happy to bring Kaenan his cufflinks and was more than happy to give away ballet duties to me.
"We could bring dinner to lighten your load. I have a foolproof casserole that I know Trey would love. He’s off on Monday nights, right?"
"Oh God…" Isla mumbles under her breath.
Berkeley and Adeline run over to us after pulling over their jackets and track pants.