Page 9 of The Nanny Contract

She pulled out her phone. “I’m going to text Logan to come down right now. I can’t believe they’d show up announced.”

I had no idea what was going on, but I didn’t like it.

Betsy frowned as she typed into her phone. “I have a bad feeling.”

She quickly fired a text to Logan before looking up at me.

“They haven’t been around much since their daughter’s passing,” she declared in what she must have thought was a whisper.

It wasn’t.

Her voice echoed through the cavernous hallways and ricocheted off the antique mirrors.

Glancing nervously at the couple approaching us, my heart sank as I thought about them overhearing. Betsy, of course, was completely and utterly unbothered.

She leaned in closer as if to lower her voice but somehow got even louder.

Her tone was drenched in faux sympathy. “I know grief is hard on them, but that’s no excuse to ignore their own grandson. I feel so bad for Henry, it’s been horrible for him.”

I winced, my internal discomfort at its absolute max, knowing that the Mercers could hear us as they approached. I practically willed Betsy to stop, but she was on a roll.

She adjusted her hat, and her tone was as casual as if she were discussing the dinner menu.

Next, Betsy delivered a classic southern insult. The kind that felt like a velvet-cloaked dagger. “They’re not nearly as attentive as I am.”

I could hear their footsteps as they approached.

Any moment now.

“And let’s be honest,” Betsy added with a polite smile that could melt steel, “they’re absolutely insufferable.”

Suddenly, the Mercers were in the room.

They both gave off a polished, upper-class appearance, but I suspected from first glance that they were nowhere nearas wealthy as the Westbrooks. Even the Mercers seemed intimidated by their surroundings, even though they’d probably been here before.

Helen Mercer approached Betsy and gave her an uncomfortable air kiss. “We were in the neighborhood and just wanted to stop by for a visit.”

Neither of the Mercers looked at me. Not even a glance.

I was probably like the furniture to them: taking up space, nothing important.

Suddenly, Logan appeared with Martin in tow. Evidently, Betsy had commanded all the troops to locate Logan and bring him forth posthaste.

Logan cleared his throat, confusion on his face. “Helen? Robert?”

I wasn’t entirely sure, but there appeared to be a hint of animosity in Logan’s expression.

“What can we do for you?” Betsy asked.

“Something to drink?” Helen replied with a haughty grin.

Martin quickly turned to Betsy and apologized for not bringing refreshments. “I’m sorry, ma’am, what can I bring?”

Betsy’s smile was deceptively sweet. “Let’s make it something special, Martin; after all, it’s been so long since we’ve had the pleasure.”

Helen winced.

“Maybe a nice iced-tea,” Betsy added. “Sweet, of course. We wouldn’t want anything bitter, would we, Helen?”