Chapter 1 #2
Time blurred from there. The general manager appeared.
The lifeguards were alerted. Danika called Bill, who was out of town.
She called Holly, who was also out of town.
Then, as Max stayed with a coach, she searched every room in the Club—from the main dining room to the ballroom to the library.
There was a bridal shower in the library at the time, and everyone had glared at her as she burst inside, but thankfully, the events manager, Aida, had quickly ushered her away.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find him,” she had repeated, squeezing Danika’s shoulder.
Aida’s kindness had felt so sincere, and for the first time that day, she felt less alone.
The search continued another half hour until some waiter finally heard crying from inside a storage closet and found Cooper
sitting among boxes of decorations. He had a cut on his cheek from trying to climb the shelves to reach the pinatas, but overall,
he was no worse for wear.
When Danika saw him, she cried. She was too relived to feel embarrassed. The shame only returned later as she struggled to
fall asleep that night. She had imagined the ladies gossiping after tennis, talking about Danika’s new job, her inability
to hire a nanny—how she couldn’t even keep track of her own kid. Some mother, they’d think, unclasping one of her final charms.
“You okay, darling?” Bill followed her line of sight to Robin Greene. Despite their issues, Bill still knew her best. He reached
for the bottle and topped her off as Danika said, “Of course.”
Bill leaned closer, whispering, “Once again, the power suit swings and misses.”
A smile tugged at Danika’s lips. They often joked that Robin Greene always showed up to the Club in her signature pantsuits
to remind everyone how important her job was—how important she was. Danika pressed her cheek quickly against Bill’s.
The night moved on predictably: The quartet played more pop covers, everyone ordered extra bottles, they brought out the flat
cheese plates. It wasn’t until the sun waned, turning the sky to a blur of peach and purple and pink, that people made their
way out to the deck.
Perfect, Danika thought as she noticed Robin and Mallory slip through the patio doors.
Danika and Holly followed suit and settled outside, hips kissing the railing as they stared out at the course.
While much of the Club’s decor was outdated and traditional—all classic, patterned carpets and dark wood paneling—Danika would admit the golf course was stunning.
She loved how the patchwork quilt of green and moon-white sand traps extended for miles to the east, slipped into the lake to the west. The way all the vibrant colors turned silver in the dimming light.
It was peaceful, quiet. You could barely even hear the party inside—or the pool out front.
Still, Danika could picture it perfectly: her boys and their new nanny swimming about, getting in their last cannonballs before heading toward their towels at the seven o’clock close. Yes, it was almost showtime.
Danika studied the horizon, feeling Zen and ready—yet, as she looked toward the top of the deck’s stairs, she realized it
might be better to move farther down the railing. This way, when the boys and nanny arrived, they’d have to weave through
more people to find her.
“Let’s scoot down a little.” Danika touched Holly’s elbow. “The idiot.” She nodded behind her toward Joshua Mike—the rich,
handsome, drunken asshole everyone despised. Even now, he held a bourbon in each hand while slurring Danika’s name. At least
this time his presence worked in her favor.
Danika took a few sideways steps through the crowd with Holly on her heels, but as she glanced over her shoulder to make sure
Joshua Mike was not following, she collided with someone. It happened so fast, she barely registered the tray of glasses crashing
to the ground, the girl in the white-and-black uniform exclaiming—the cool liquid splashing her neck. She scoffed as the liquid
began collecting in her cleavage and seeping to her navel, leaving a dark line down the front of her jumpsuit.
“Oh, shit,” Holly said as she pushed a single cocktail napkin to Danika’s skin, which was growing red with rage.
Danika glared down at the girl. She was crouched beneath them now, picking up large pieces of broken glass. Her dark brown
ponytail swung to the ground like a broom.
“I’m so sorry,” she said as she glanced up. Her face was pained and sweaty, but her eyes were a brilliant aqua blue. They
were so bright, Danika paused before her anger rushed back in.
“Why don’t you watch where you’re going.” Danika rounded her shoulders and pulled the silk away from her body.
“I’m so sorry,” the girl repeated as she stood, her tray filled with chunks of glass. Danika noticed a trickle of blood running
down her left index finger and, on instinct, she thought, Good.
“It’s just water,” she said. “I’ll get you a towel.”
Danika felt people staring now, but she couldn’t bring herself to look. This was not how the evening was supposed to go. Still,
her seething was cut short when—right on cue—her phone rang. She flicked her hand at the girl, dismissing her.
Danika’s chest seized as she turned away to answer. But within seconds, she loosened—the conversation unfolded exactly as
hoped: first, the nanny apologized, then explained that while the boys were dressed and ready to go, the keys to the Range
Rover were nowhere to be found, and did she happen to have a spare?
Danika felt a little bad inciting any panic in her new hire, but stealing the keys from the pool bag had simply been necessary.
“Oh, please don’t worry.” Danika pushed the phone against her ear, its screen clinking her diamond stud.
“It happens, and yes, I do have a spare. It’s no problem.
Come find us around back. Yes, follow the walkway to the pro shop and up the deck stairs.
We’re already outside.” She tilted her chin toward the lowering sun, the sheen of gold across the lake. “See you soon.”
As she hung up, Holly squinted at her, but Danika kept her head down. She tucked her phone into her bag, strummed the keychain
with her fingers.
“Oh, it’s nothing, just the new nanny,” Danika said as she finally returned Holly’s gaze.
Minutes later, she heard them before she saw them: First, Chat’s low, raspy laugh as he said, “Giddyup, hold the railing!”;
next, Max’s sweet, goofy cackle; and lastly, Cooper’s voice as he yelled, “Race you to Mom! Mom? Mom?” She felt their presence,
too—the hungry love she held for each of them.
Then, there they were, spilling out onto the deck in a flurry of colorful pool bags and floaties. The boys were tanned and
blond, just like Danika, and Max sat in Chat’s arms while Cooper clung to his side. And Chat, beautiful Chat, stood tall in
his dark-hair, six-four, megawatt-smile glory. Danika softened as she looked at him, shaken back to an old version of herself.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Chat said as they bumbled toward her. There was no way not to notice this trio—as expected, every head
turned—and Danika felt buoyed by the attention. Soon, this seed of gossip would take off, planting and spreading through all
of The Lake Club. “Did you hear?” people would say. “The Crawleys hired a nanny. A male nanny! A twenty-two-year-old living
with them for the summer! Can you believe it?”
Danika would once again be different and intriguing. There’d be a new, shining charm on her bracelet. Everyone, in their heart
of hearts, would be jealous.
“This is fancy.” Chat unabashedly surveyed the party, nodding in approval.
Danika laughed and folded the keys into his hand, letting her palm linger on top of his knuckles.
“Oh, no, it’s nothing. But thank you so much, Chat.
I’m sure the other set will turn up. Don’t worry about it.
” She squatted to kiss Cooper, the smell of chlorine and sunscreen clinging to his skin, and rose to fake bite Max’s chubby hand.
“We’ll see you at home. I’ll call a car soon.
” She leaned in. “This is wildly boring.”
“Whatever you say.” Chat flashed another perfect smile as he looked out to the party, up at the string lights. “Enjoy yourself.
And thanks again.” He raised the car keys, jingling them in the air. “I’ll protect these with my life.”
Danika felt like she was floating as she watched them go, and she couldn’t wait to turn and face the crowd—but then, someone
else appeared in Chat’s place: that clumsy waiter. She pushed a white monogrammed towel toward Danika.
“Apologies,” she mumbled before scurrying away.
Holding the towel, Danika felt irritated all over again. Her jumpsuit was dry. What was she supposed to do with this prop
now? At this point, it felt like one more barrier between absorbing into the party and fielding question after question about
Chat, her new male nanny—her manny, she’d tell them. They’d eat that up.
Danika moved to drape the towel over the deck railing. Yet, as she glanced down the banister, she tilted her head, surprised
to see Chat still standing at the top of the stairs. His eyes were locked on something—or someone—at the party.
Danika felt a strike of panic. Did he know someone here?
She had only allowed herself to hire him because he had zero ties to the community—well, zero idea about any ties to the community or their shared history.
She intended for it to stay that way. She’d even made him sign a slightly unorthodox contract, citing horror stories about other nannies as an excuse: He’d agreed to withhold details of their private life (Danika valued anonymity); to remain extra alert when at the Club (Danika had told him about losing Cooper and the other mothers’ judgy eyes); and finally, not to bring any significant others around the boys (the Clines’ daughter really had walked in on their nanny and her boyfriend, and Danika didn’t want any distractions).
He’d brushed it all off, said he was good at secrets, that he’d be on alert 24-7, and “Don’t worry”—he’d laughed—“I haven’t had a girlfriend in years. ”
Now, though, as he raised his hand in a wave, it was obvious he was trying to get someone’s attention. Danika bobbed her head,
desperate to see over the tops of people and find who he was looking at—but, a second later, Cooper yelled to Chat from the
bottom of the stairs, and he was gone, rushing down the steps and out of sight.
Danika pulled back, confused. She didn’t have much time to ruminate, though, because before she knew it, people were flocking
to her. Everyone wanted to know who he was, where he was from, where she had found him. Finally.
Danika straightened and focused, answering each question with enough information to satisfy and avoid suspicion while retaining
intrigue, as was her practiced nature. Still, the more she spoke of Chat, the more she found her limbs and heart growing instinctively
heavy. She scolded herself for this—she had promised herself that his presence wouldn’t derail her—but it was proving easier
said than done. Everything about him sent her mind careening back in time—back to a world and life she’d run from all those
years ago.