Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Belle listened to one of her favorite lists on Spotify, singing along to Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” while she folded clothes in the living room. “Ra-ra-ah-ah-ah. Roma-roma-ma.”
Pip giggled as she belted out that part of the song loudly, then turned her attention back to her drawing.
The little girl was sprawled on the floor, coloring a unicorn neon green while narrating an elaborate story about its secret spy career.
Belle might be a bit biased, but she would swear on a stack of Bibles that Pip was the smartest kid on earth.
She would never stop being amazed by the clever, creative things that came out of the adorable little girl’s mouth.
Belle was wrapping up her first week in Victor’s house.
She’d had nearly a month to get used to the idea of living somewhere else for the summer, since the day Vivian had knocked on the door to her bedroom in late April, asking Belle’s opinion about her leaving the country to finish her book.
Vivian had assured Belle that if she said no, she would be fine with that.
Not that Belle would’ve ever said no.
She’d not only worked for Vivian the past five years, she had also lived with her, Belle closer to Vivian than she was her own sisters.
Part of Belle’s compensation package included room and board.
It was one of the reasons Belle had jumped at the job when Vivian’s late husband, Phil, offered it to her.
After years of working two minimum-wage jobs at a time, just to be able to afford a shitty one-bedroom apartment in a less-than-desirable neighborhood in Baltimore, the idea of moving out of the middle of the city and to the suburbs sounded like heaven.
Phil had been a regular at the coffee shop where Belle used to begin six of her seven mornings a week, working as a barista. The two of them had become friendly acquaintances, always chatting while she prepared his coffee—an Americano with an extra shot of espresso.
Phil had been a science teacher at a local high school, so he’d typically share funny stories about his students or colleagues while he waited.
She’d reciprocated by telling tales about the little cuties from the preschool that was her second job.
From the time she’d graduated from high school until Phil basically saved her with his awesome job offer, Belle had worked from five to ten a.m. at the coffee shop, before walking next door to the preschool, where she toiled from ten to seven those same six days a week.
Phil often remarked that she worked too hard, even while complimenting her work ethic, wishing his students had just half of her drive.
She’d always reminded him that her work ethic was driven by her desire to have a roof over her head and food in her stomach, but he never let her diminish the compliment or humbly try to explain it away.
She’d been touched and delighted when he’d brought her a bubble gum cigar the day he told her that his wife was pregnant with Pip.
At the time, Vivian was just a name to Belle, as she’d never met Phil’s beloved, super-smart geneticist wife, who always seemed to be out of the country traveling for work.
While that day, they’d laughed and pretended to smoke the candy cigars, just a few months later, they’d had a much less-joyful conversation.
Phil had come into the coffee shop on a Saturday—something he never did.
His visits were restricted to school days.
She’d teased him about his coffee addiction getting out of hand.
Had expected him to laugh…but he hadn’t.
That was when he’d told her he’d gotten some bad news from his doctor.
She’d googled the word glioblastoma after he left, crying as she read the too-low life expectancy.
Belle had spent the rest of that weekend in a state of fury, wondering why truly horrible people got to live long, healthy lives, contributing nothing but misery, while Phil, who was kind and compassionate and a wonderful teacher, wouldn’t even get to see his thirtieth birthday… or his baby grow up.
Even after his diagnosis, Phil found a way to be positive and upbeat, claiming he had too much to do to feel sorry for himself. Top on his list was to find someone to help Vivian with the baby.
Belle had been blown away, touched, and flattered when he said he wanted to introduce her to Vivian, insisting the two of them would hit it off and that Belle would make a damn fine nanny.
She’d been a nervous wreck the day he arrived at the shop with a visibly pregnant Vivian.
Her anxiety had been for naught, because Vivian had been as nice as Phil, and Belle had indeed instantly clicked with the woman.
So much so that, as the years passed, Vivian had started calling her the “sister of her heart,” and while Belle had three sisters of her own, she’d never been anywhere near as close to them as she was Vivian.
Which was why Belle knew exactly how much the book Vivian was writing meant to her, and why she would never be the reason her beloved boss didn’t finish it. So she’d immediately said yes to Viv taking the trip.
Even if it did mean moving in with the Beast.
That was how Belle had secretly started referring to Vivian’s grumpy older brother, Victor, right after meeting him for the first time.
Then she’d laughed her ass off when she learned it was also his nickname amongst his teammates.
Obviously, it fit.
She had never watched professional hockey prior to moving into Vivian’s house, but that quickly changed. Nowadays, she considered herself one of the Stingrays’ fiercest and most loyal fans, proud to wear one of her too-many T-shirts, jerseys, or sweatshirts on game days.
Despite the fact her agreement meant she’d be spending three months in the bear’s den with the Beast, Belle had assured Vivian—countless times—that Pip would be well cared for in her absence.
Vivian said she wouldn’t even consider leaving Pip with anyone other than Belle and Victor.
So, once Belle agreed, they’d shifted into overdrive, preparing for Vivian’s trip to Africa and Belle and Pip’s move to Victor’s house.
Belle believed in lists. Lists brought order.
Stability. And peace of mind. She’d needed lists during the early days of living on her own, simply so she could keep her head above water.
She’d left home right after graduation, and as an eighteen-year-old on her own for the first time ever, it had been intimidating and scary. So…she’d embraced the idea of lists.
She’d had a list for household chores, a running grocery list, a chart of what bills were due when, and so on. There was comfort in the lists, giving Belle a sense of control at a time when she’d really needed it because adulting was hard.
The lists continued when she became Pip’s full-time nanny.
At first, she used them as a way to ensure she didn’t forget anything, that she didn’t fail in her new position.
Even though Phil wasn’t there, Belle was determined to prove he’d been right to hire her.
Given Vivian was trying to function as a first-time mother and newly widowed wife, there was simply too much at stake.
Belle had refused to let her down. She hadn’t been treading water just for herself; she’d been trying to keep Pip and Vivian afloat, as well.
The first few months after Pip’s birth, Vivian struggled hard.
Who wouldn’t? She’d lost her husband and had a baby all within the span of a few weeks.
It wasn’t unusual for Vivian to laugh with joy over something adorable Pip did, only to dissolve into gasping sobs, wishing Phil was there to see their daughter.
Postpartum depression was hard enough, but when combined with a soul-deep grief, Belle had spent most of those first few months in her new job in awe that Vivian was still getting out of bed every morning and functioning.
Belle had been waiting at Vivian’s house the day Victor drove his sister and Pip home from the hospital.
He’d gruffly acknowledged her—barely—before gently guiding his sister upstairs to her bedroom.
For those first six weeks, he’d been a daily presence in the house, doting on Vivian while suspiciously watching Belle, as if she were there to steal the baby.
Vivian had assured Belle that Victor didn’t have anything against her, that he was just protective by nature.
But that didn’t mean there hadn’t been more than a few times when Belle considered seeing if she could get her old jobs back because she was convinced the Beast, with his rough nature and fondness for four-letter words, was going to demand she be fired.
Somehow she’d survived those early days, and life became decidedly easier when Victor went back to work and she was able to do her job without his unwavering scrutiny.
Moving Pip to Victor’s house for three months had required a long list, covering lots of components, complete with color coding.
The list had been effective, because by the end of their first day in his house, Pip’s clothes had been folded and put away in the dresser, her favorite nightlight plugged in, and her beloved stuffed llama strategically placed on the pillows for optimal bedtime success.
However, there weren’t enough lists in the world to give Belle a sense of control when it came to Victor.
Not because he still made her nervous or looked at her like she was some interloper who had no business being there.
Nope.
This particular lack of control was worse.
Somewhere along the way…Belle had developed a crush on Vivian’s older brother.
Which was the dumbest thing she could possibly do. While he was only eight years older than her, sometimes it felt like more. Victor certainly gave off grumpy-old-man, stay-off-my-lawn vibes, while she spent way too much time watching makeup videos and scrolling on TikTok.