10. Declan
10
DECLAN
F ive minutes into my video interview with Ava Chase, I felt immensely confident in my choice to get rid of Olivia.
Ava was polished, prompt, and professional. We were on the same page about everything, from the importance of letting kids relax and enjoy their summer holiday, to the importance of shielding children from difficult adult subjects.
I smiled at the pretty woman on my screen. She wasn’t quite as friendly as Olivia, but I honestly liked that. Ava felt like what she was going to be—an employee who understood where the lines were drawn. She would be a lot more peaceful to live with than Olivia had been.
Fifteen minutes into the interview, I was running out of reasons not to hire her on the spot. She was perfect. Honestly, it was hard to believe that she shared so many similarities with Olivia.
Left-handed. Loved purple. Loved Olivia’s favorite picture book.
Something about that niggled at my brain. I couldn’t figure out what it was until it hit me.
Ava hadn’t disagreed with a single thing I’d said during this entire interview.
Olivia’s accusation rang in my mind. You don’t listen. None of you listen.
“…and that’s why I believe a live-in nanny is always the best childcare structure for every family,” Ava finished.
I tilted my head, deciding to test my newly formed theory. “I’m not sure I agree with that. Catie’s mom has never had a live-in nanny, and I think she did just fine.”
Ava paused. And then she gave a charming laugh. “Oh, of course, I don’t mean when the mom is available to be a full-time stay-at-home parent. But in all other scenarios, a live-in nanny makes all the difference.”
“Sinead’s a working mom,” I said.
Ava beamed. “We’re in total agreement. As you say, it’s a different scenario when a working or stay-at-home mom is available.”
Suddenly, it didn’t seem like such a coincidence that Sunny Day Childcare had been able to find another nanny who checked all my boxes.
I pulled up Ava’s resume, scanning the names of the people she’d worked for. It read like a who’s-who of rich and powerful parents. “Can you tell me about a time you disagreed with your employer over what was best for the child? How did you work through that?”
“I’ve been lucky enough to avoid those scenarios by choosing my employers carefully,” Ava chirped. “I’ve worked for amazing parents and guardians whose childcare philosophy I support 100%, so there’s never been a conflict of interest.”
I blinked. There was no possible way that was true. One of the families on her resume was a single-mom influencer who’d risen to prominence on Snug with a blog about something called Beyond Gentle Parenting .
Meanwhile, she’d also worked for famed venture capitalist Kevin Branson, who was my friend James’s cousin. Kevin was actually the first Branson I’d met, a few years back. He was a brilliant businessman, but not exactly the warm, cuddly type. Both Bransons could be blunt—sharp and decisive almost to a fault—but James had a big heart and a fierce devotion to the people he cared about. Maybe Kevin had a softer side, but I’d never seen any sign of it, not even when it came to his wife and kids. I knew for a fact that he thought kids these days would be better behaved if harsher punishments hadn’t gone out of fashion.
When my co-founder Anil Patel and I were building Snug, we’d never wanted to hire yes-men. We wanted to hire the best of best, who cared enough about their work to challenge us if we were wrong.
We wanted people like Olivia , I realized.
I’d been interpreting Olivia doing the one thing she knew would get her fired as proof of her arrogance, her defiance. But there was another way to look at it.
When faced with either protecting her job or doing what she thought was best for Catie, Olivia picked Catie.
Looking at the woman on the screen in front of me, I knew there was no way she’d be brave enough to take that risk. There was no point continuing this interview.
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Chase,” I said. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Excellent. I look forward to supporting Caitlin.”
I ended the video call without bothering to correct her about Catie’s name. I was confident in my decision, but fairness demanded I confirm my hunch.
I checked the time and texted James to see if he was up. The time change was more awkward than when I’d been in the States, but I knew he normally rose early. Do you remember a nanny who worked for your cousin? Ava Chase? Blonde, polished, agreeable…
James responded by calling. “Don’t go there,” he said as soon as I answered the phone, not really one to waste time on niceties. “I know she’s pretty, but trust me—you don’t want to date her.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course I don’t want to date her. But she interviewed for a job with me, as Catie’s nanny. The interview itself seemed to go well and she’s definitely qualified, but I’m still not sure. What are your thoughts? Is she good at her job?”
“Hmm…” James said, clearly thinking his response through. “Kevin liked her,” he admitted. “At first, anyway. From what I could tell, she’s reliable, smart, and works hard. But at the end of the day, I got the sense that she puts her own ambition ahead of anything else, including the kids she takes care of. She likes being close to power. That’s why she’s not there anymore. She got an offer to nanny for some Hollywood bigshot and walked away without looking back, just a week before Kevin’s daughter’s birthday.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, exactly. But wait, why are you only getting a nanny now? When we talked before, it sounded like you were hoping to get one lined up before you headed home. Did that not work out?”
“I found someone,” I admitted. “But there were some…problems.” I explained what had happened with Olivia. James’s response was less sympathetic than I might have hoped for.
“Sounds to me like you fucked up,” he stated, as frank as always. “So how are you going to fix it?”
A fter I hung up with James, I sent Sunny Days Childcare a brief message saying I wouldn’t be hiring Ava. James and I had agreed that what I needed to do was something different.
Something that involved swallowing my pride.
I went downstairs to try to smooth things over with Olivia. I still wished she’d consulted me before telling Catie the truth. But I could also admit I hadn’t always been in a listening frame of mind when Olivia tried to disagree with my childcare decisions.
With Snug I could listen to opposing opinions because being wrong in business happened to everyone sometimes. You listened, learned, fixed your mistakes, and moved on. But with Catie, I didn’t want to make a single mistake. And that meant I’d dismissed Olivia, instead of hearing her out.
As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I was surprised to hear my mum’s voice. She sat at the kitchen table with Catie. Catie was picking at a slice of soda bread, her face glum.
“What’s this?” I asked. “Why the sad face, Catie?”
Mum threw me an exasperated look. “Well, you fired her nanny.”
“What?” I shook my head. “That’s rubbish. We had a disagreement .”
Mum pursed her lips. “Well, she thinks you fired her. She was practically crying when she hugged Catie here goodbye.”
I felt carved out, unsettled. “She’s…gone?”
Fuck. I couldn’t believe she’d just leave like that. Without saying goodbye to me. Without giving me a piece of her mind.
Where the hell would she go? She didn’t know anyone in Ireland.
“She can’t go,” I said. “I need her.”
“You best get to groveling then,” Mum said. “She’s taking the bus to Dublin. If you leave now, you might be able to catch her.”
I started to leave, then turned around, crossed to Catie, and kissed her on the top of her head. “I’ll fix this, sweetheart. Promise.”
Then I raced out to go catch my runaway nanny.
W hen I screeched to a halt in front of the bus stop, I breathed a sigh of relief. Olivia was still there. She sat cross-legged on the bus-stop bench, eyes closed, head tilted back to lean against the back of the bus shelter. She didn’t open her eyes when I got out and slammed the car door behind me. She’d retreated to her own little world.
I was used to thinking of her as gregarious, perpetually energized, and open. I’d lived with her less than a week, but I already knew her emotions had a way of spilling over until they infected the whole house. Seeing her all contained like this…it felt wrong. I wanted to hurt the bastard who did this to her.
Except the bastard was me.
This isn’t about you , I reminded myself. This is about Catie.
“Olivia.”
Her eyes flew open, and she yanked her headphones out of her ears. She scrambled to her feet. “Declan. What are you doing here?”
“You’re the best nanny for Catie, and she deserves the best,” I said. “So you have the job until Sinead finishes rehab. No more trial period. It’s yours.”
Olivia didn’t say anything. No happy exclamation. No sassy comment about how she knew I’d come around. She just watched me.
I gestured to the car. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”
“Declan…” she said, making no move to gather up her things.
Shit , I thought. How badly had I messed this up?
“I’ll give you a raise,” I said. “Name your price.”
“It’s not about the money,” Olivia said, which was such an Olivia thing to say.
“Then what is it?” I asked, impatient. All I wanted was to move on, forget any of this had happened, but I knew Olivia wouldn’t let it be that easy.
She twisted her right hand back and forth around her left wrist. Like she was nervous about whatever she needed to say. “I can handle it if we disagree sometimes. But I can’t handle working for someone who doesn’t listen to me, or for someone who makes decisions based on what’s easy for them, instead of what’s best for the kid.”
I took a step closer to her. “I have never made a decision about Catie based on what’s easiest for me. I might have made mistakes. But that was never the reason.”
“Then why?” Olivia protested. “Why were you so intent on avoiding a difficult conversation? She’s tough enough to handle it.”
“Just because she’s tough enough to handle it doesn’t mean she should have to!” I took a breath, forcing myself to calm down. The last thing I wanted was a repeat of our last argument. “Look, I…you know my da died when I was a teen.”
She nodded, her eyes warm with understanding.
I rolled my shoulders restlessly, not wanting her sympathy, but knowing I needed to say this. I needed her to trust me enough to come back. “My mum was…she loved him so much, she couldn’t…so I ended up doing a lot of things that needed to be done. And all the adults around, they just said, ‘Be strong for your mum,’ and ‘You’re the man of the family, now.’” I stuffed my hands in my pockets and looked away. “I overheard my aunt once, asking if they were all putting too much on my shoulders. And my uncle just said, ‘he’s tough enough to handle it.’”
I hated to say it out loud, but Olivia needed to hear it. Maybe then she’d understand why I was so hellbent on protecting Catie. Maybe this way she’d understand me .
She took an instinctive step toward me, her hand reaching out, then falling to her side. “Oh Declan.”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I was practically an adult. And once we got through the first year, it got easier. I’m fine.” I flashed her a crooked smile, but she wasn’t fooled, and I felt my smile fade away. “The point is, I know what it’s like to have something horrible happen to your parent, and wish that you had the option to hide, to distract yourself and just be a kid a little longer. And Catie…she’s so young .”
Olivia reached out and touched my arm. “I know.”
“I may have over-corrected,” I admitted. Not easy or fun to do…but James had been right—it had to be done. I was slow to admit my mistakes, sure, but I wasn’t a lost cause. Not entirely, anyway. “Just a bit.”
“A bit.” Olivia’s smile was wry but gentle.
I cleared my throat. “Anyway. I’ll try to get my demons under control. And I will listen to you when you bring up a concern. I can’t promise I’ll always agree, but I’ll hear you out. So if you’re ready to come home—” I broke off as Olivia rose up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around me. I inhaled, startled, my hands settling tentatively on her lower back. She felt warm and feminine in my arms, and I tried not to notice her lavender scent, or soft curves, or… Fuck, it was no use. It was impossible not to notice Olivia. It always had been.
“You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone,” Olivia said firmly. “There should have been someone there to shield you, like you’re shielding Catie.”
My throat tightened. For a fraction of a moment, I felt like a young boy again. So damn powerless, so damn—no, I couldn’t go there. I wasn’t that boy anymore. He lived in the past, as did all those feelings of powerlessness. I was a grown man now…and, more than that, I was a powerful grown man.
“It’s really not a big deal,” I said, my voice gruff. “I didn’t say any of that to get your pity.”
“It’s not pity,” Olivia said. “It’s understanding.” She fell silent, then said, “My parents died when I was in high school too. Boating accident. They went out on the ocean with a friend and got caught in storm. The Coast Guard never found them.”
“Oh, a ghrá. ” My arms tightened involuntarily around Olivia. I’d been so busy thinking about my own demons that I hadn’t even considered Olivia could have some of her own. “I’m sorry.”
She kept her head tucked into my chest. “What’s that one mean?”
“Hmm?”
“ A ghrá. You haven’t used that one before.”
I froze. I’d used the term for “love” without thinking. It was a slip of the tongue, but Olivia might read too much into it if I gave her the literal translation.
Down the road, a bus lumbered toward us.
I released her. “It means friend,” I lied.
She tilted her head up, and Christ, she was pretty.
“You said a chara was friend,” Olivia pointed out.
“I did. So will you come back?”
Olivia smiled. This time her smile felt relaxed, settled. “Yes. As long as you keep your promise to communicate.”
I grabbed her suitcase and tossed it in my car. “I don’t think you’ll let me do anything else.”
The bus came to a halt in front of the stop, but I waved it on.
Olivia was coming home with me.