Chapter 12 #2
I’m not surprised my sister hired Summer on the spot. She makes it difficult not to like her. But now I’m left feeling guilty for even considering what I’m about to do next.
“If you’re worried about me infiltrating your personal life, don’t be. I had no idea it was your sister’s law practice until it was too late,” she justifies.
“I need some help with Quinn,” I rush out.
She pauses. A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. My eyes decide to stray way too long on that corner before I scold myself and stuff my hands in my pockets.
She folds her arms. “Wait a minute… is Rhett Dawson asking me for help?”
I grind my molars. Of course she’s going to make this as difficult on me as possible. If I have to spell it out for her, she’s only going to get a one-word answer from me.
“Yes.”
She shrugs. “I’m sorry. I’m already taken.” Then she turns away from me. I grab her wrist before she can get any further and twist her around. Her eyes snap to where I’m touching her, the pressure on her skin softening with the ease of my fingertips. I should let go, but I don’t.
“Whatever she offered, I’ll pay you double.”
I don’t miss it when her eyes flare. It means she’s considering it.
My sister is good at what she does and is compensated as such. There’s no doubt she offered Summer a generous hourly wage. But it’s not one a billboard-topping artist can’t compete with. Even one who is only earning royalties at the moment. I no longer care how desperate it makes me sound.
Summer surprises me when she shakes her head and starts to walk away again, her wrist slipping from my grasp. I follow after her.
“It was your idea to be my nanny,” I argue.
“I told you in a roundabout way when we met that I’m impulsive. By definition, it means I don’t stick to the things I commit to.”
“Does that mean you’re going to drop my sister too?”
God, I’m practically poaching Summer from her. I don’t really want that for Emma. She seemed genuinely excited about employing her. If Summer could use the money, maybe she can work for both of us.
“Of course not!” she says, sounding offended as her heels click clack across the parking lot.
She’s almost to her car, and I’m running out of time. “Five weeks. After school until eight and a few hours on Saturdays. It’ll give me the time I need to finish the last three songs on my album,” I clarify. “What will it take for you to say yes?”
She spins around and folds her arms. “Well, for starters, you haven’t said please yet.”
I glare at her. Not this again. The thought of me begging her makes me want to die. It’s also making my skin hot. I survey the parking lot before I whisper it. “Please.”
She cups the shell of her ear. “I’m sorry, did you say something? I think I might hear it better if you were down on one knee.”
If reporters caught wind of my morning commute and started following me to Quinn’s school, they’d have a heyday with this charade she’s putting me through. I don’t need them spinning up a false story about my relationship status.
“That’s what I thought.” Summer’s ponytail swishes as she flips around and opens her car door.
Dammit. “Fine!” I shout and drop to a knee. “Will you please be Quinn’s nanny?”
She looks over her shoulder at me, chewing on her bottom lip.
I am going to hell. This is the worst idea I could have come up with.
I should have just let her work for Emma.
Because if she does that around my house all the time with me there, I’m going to have a much bigger problem on my hands than trying to juggle Quinn and the record label.
I’ll be fighting with a tight dress, plump lips, and a walking billboard of red.
“All right.” She folds her hands. “I’ll do it.”
Relief floods my system. I thought for sure she’d say no. I start to stand, and she pushes me down by the shoulder. “But I get to keep my job with your sister while Quinn is at school.”
Took the idea right out of my head. I nod.
“And you have to do the spring play,” she adds.
This time I stand. “Why do you care about the school play?”
“Because I think Quinn would like it,” she says.
With the number of hours I’m putting in at the studio right now, it’s hard to find time to spend with Quinn. I suppose I can spare an afternoon once a week without it setting me back any more than I already am.
“Okay,” I agree.
Her timing could not have been more coincidental as the same guy who asked me to do the play approaches us.
“Hey!” He greets me with another jovial slap to the shoulder I don’t appreciate. “How about that school play?”
“I’ve decided to help out.” I keep my eyes on Summer to see how she’ll react. “As long as she volunteers too.”
“Wh-what?” gusts out of Summer’s mouth. I don’t miss it when the guy’s over-the-top grin falters.
“Summer… that’s… yeah. Great! Thank you… both… for your participation.” He takes a step back. “See you on Monday at three o’clock.” Then he pivots on his heels and beelines for the building.
That was… weird. Summer never even got a chance to answer. I’m sure I overstepped by dragging her into this, but it’s outside of my comfort zone, and she’s good with kids.
There’s a bizarre dynamic happening that I can’t figure out. I still don’t know that guy’s name, but with the way Summer’s eyes track him all the way down the sidewalk and back into the building, I’m going to bet she does.
“Who is that guy anyway?” I ask her.
She still hasn’t looked away from those closed double doors.
“The principal. And my ex-husband.”
On my way.
That’s what her text said the last time I checked it.
I acted on instinct yesterday. Hired Summer—officially—after my sister did.
I lay awake all night wrestling with these uncomfortable, jealous feelings that fought for more time with her than anyone else gets.
I asked her—begged her—to be my nanny. Memories of me down on one knee haunt me.
Mostly because it felt more right than any other decision I’ve made since I moved back home.
Then she dropped the bomb on me that the principal is her ex-husband, and I felt bad that I asked her to show up there on my account every day.
I picked up Quinn from school on my own.
Told her she could finish up at Emma’s office before coming over.
Now I’m pacing around my living room while Quinn eats her chicken nuggets at the table, awaiting Summer’s arrival like a whipped teenager.
I can’t stop thinking about how, for several hours every evening, she will be roaming my house, playing with my daughter, leaving her lemony scent on my furniture, and taking up even more space in my head than she already does.
And the scary part is, I don’t regret it.
A rhythmic pattern rattles the front door. I know it’s her before I even answer. A knock like that is a very Summer thing to do.
I swing it open. She’s holding a bouquet of un-bloomed flowers—pink peonies, I think—and adorning what’s quickly becoming my favorite grin.
“Hi!” she says.
“Hi.” I take an intentional step forward, more so to move out of the pathway of the door, but it doesn’t hurt when our shoulders brush too.
Earlier, when I grabbed her wrist… I’ve thought about that touch more than any first kiss I’ve ever had. She must have thought about it too because her eyes stray to that same place.
“These are…” She extends the bouquet of flowers toward my chest. The pitter patter of small footsteps approaches and she spins, squats, and holds out the bundle to Quinn. “For you! They haven’t bloomed yet but just wait until they do. They’re my favorite flower.”
Quinn beams at her. “Wav? Wav?”
“Wave? Water? Web?” Summer attempts to decipher what Quinn is saying.
She shakes her head at every guess.
“Show me?” Summer asks, and Quinn grabs her hand, dragging her toward the backyard. Before they’ve even made it outside, Summer spots her cardboard creation. It’s sat out there for a week now, Quinn playing in it every evening because I didn’t have the heart to throw it away.
“Oh! Lab? You want to take the flowers to the lab?”
“Yep!” Quinn says, and Summer looks over her shoulder at me, knocking me out with her dimple.
“How did you do that?” I stare in astonishment at her.
She shrugs.
I may have had my reservations, but I have a feeling Summer is exactly what Quinn needs.