Page 39 of The Nanny Contract
Dr. Evans’ tone shifted from condescending to patronizing. “I know you’re close to the situation, Logan. But you have to consider it from the board’s point of view. They think it’d be wise for you to distance yourself. At least publicly.”
Anger surged inside me, but I refused to show it in such a public setting.
Dr. Evan’s face was draped in a shadow of malevolence under the flickering fluorescent lights in the hallway. He nodded, patted me on the back, and turned to walk away.
If it was his goal to catch me off guard, he’d succeeded.
His tense words made me question how much I was risking professionally by keeping Casey in my life.
Chapter 11
Casey
As I drove back to Westbrook Meadows from the grocery store, my thoughts were like a whirlwind. Scattered tension lingered in my brain as I thought about the custody situation with the Mercers.
Martin was busy setting the dinner table, so Betsy had asked me to grab a few items for a dinner—with the Mercers.
I was already anxious about how uncomfortable it was going to be.
When I caught sight of the first highway billboard, my foot eased off the gas instinctively.
It was practically impossible to miss—a massive sign, giant black letters against a crisp white background, gleaming in the sun.
Some grandparents bake cookies. Others cook the books. Family bonds are priceless. Tax fraud isn’t.
I blinked several times, certain that my eyes had deceived me.
But as I drove past the second billboard just a little further down the highway, my jaw dropped.
Real grandparents don’t hide behind fake charities. Where did the millions go?
Driving faster, I noticed the final billboard. I didn’t even try to mute the laugh that escaped my mouth.
Offshore accounts, onshore drama.
Transparency is a family value, Robert.
Oh my god. Betsy had called him out by name.
The implications were clear. And at this point, they weren’t just implications anymore.
This couldn’t be real. Betsy would never do something like this.
Would she?
I shook my head, going back and forth between awe and disbelief. Betsy had completely outdone herself. Hopefully for her it was subtle enough to avoid legal implications, but I assumed at this point Betsy was no longer concerned about that.
Driving back to the estate, I knew that the Mercers were probably fuming, and that I was likely walking right into the storm.
When I arrived, the air was already thick with palpable tension as I made my way toward the dining room, bracing for what I knew was waiting there.
My footsteps echoed slightly off the polished floors, and each step I took made my heart race faster. Normally I was impressed by the scale and beauty of the house on the estate, but when things were tense, the atmosphere almost took on an eerie, haunted vibe.
The high ceilings, unusual art pieces, and large, ornate rugs that covered the floors all lent themselves to the feeling of being summoned by a royal.
Walking down the hallway, hearing my own footsteps, waiting to see what awaited me around the next corner. On one hand, I had no idea what to expect. But on the other hand, that was to be expected.
Betsy liked to keep everyone guessing, but there wasn’t much room for interpretation based on the signs.