Page 28 of The Nanny Contract

I took a deep breath and tried to regain focus.

I headed inside, trying not to think about the weight of my thoughts.

Something in my life needed to change.

Chapter 7

Casey

What had started as a quiet day at Westbrook Meadows had spiraled into an awkward lunch with me, Betsy, Logan, Henry, and the Mercers. The air was tinged with unspoken agendas and forced pleasantries. It was like watching people cautiously walk through a minefield.

The Mercers had arrived, per Logan’s invitation, saying he wanted to smooth over the relationship and allow them to be a positive influence in Henry’s life.

I admired and respected Logan’s ambitions to involve Henry’s maternal grandparents. But the truth was, spending time with the Mercers was simply awful.

The uncomfortable tension that filled the air lingered throughout their entire visit, never dissipating for a moment.

The table was immaculately set by Martin. There were fresh lilies in the center, beautiful china, and gleaming silverware.

Henry scrolled obliviously on his phone, while Logan poured himself another glass of wine as if bracing for what was about to come.

Helen Mercer leaned forward, the light from the chandelier reflecting off her diamond bracelet.

“Henry, dear,” she said, “your grandfather and I have a little surprise for you.”

“Okay?” Henry said, looking up from his phone with a confused expression.

Robert pulled a sleek velvet box from his pocket and flicked it open to reveal a luxury watch.

It was absolutely stunning. By far the nicest watch I’d ever seen.

The watch face sparkled with encrusted diamonds. The band was gold; gleaming as if polished to sheer perfection.

Betsy cleared her throat and raised one disapproving eyebrow. “That’s a six-figure watch.”

If anyone knew a luxury watch’s value at first glance, it was Betsy.

My jaw dropped but I quickly picked it up, hoping no one noticed.

The lifestyles of the wealthy never ceased to amaze me. Completely and utterly out of my league.

The watch was extravagant and wildly inappropriate for a teenager.

Helen grinned with a smug look. “Pretty much on par with the six-figure Cadillac I hear Henry drives.”

Betsy scoffed. “I’ll have you know I was duped into buying that overpowered sports car, which I mistakenly assumed was a boring sedan, and I am entirely annoyed about it.”

She fired a knowing look at Henry.

“Furthermore,” Betsy added, “the Cadillac now belongs to me, and Henry is currently driving the pickup truck we use for hauling mulch around here.”

Funnily enough, Betsy spoke the truth. As a punishment for the speeding incident, Betsy had forced Henry to drive a filthy—and sometimes reeking after hauling manure—pickup truck back and forth to school.

Meanwhile, Betsy had insisted that I accompany her on a number of late-night speed rides around Charleston in the passenger seat of the stunning Cadillac speedster which now belonged to her.

Our joyrides had actually turned into fun bonding experiences for both of us, and Betsy had more than ever made me feel a part of the family.

I knew Betsy’s punishment for Henry wouldn’t last long; after all, she was a big softie inside.