Page 6 of Falling for the Nanny

Her lips tightened.

“Fine.” With a sigh, I reeled off a list of apologies. “I’m sorry I called him Practical Parker. I’m sorry I called it a trial run. I’m sorry I…” I frowned, trying to figure out what else I had to apologize for.

“Groaned in that horrible way when you said, ‘you two are getting married, aren’t you’,” Alyssa reminded me.

“Groaned in that horrible way,” I repeated obediently. Then I reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “I really am sorry. You’re my best friend. I support whatever–” don’t say mistakes “--choices you make.”

“I make good choices,” Alyssa muttered, not quite ready to forgive and forget.

“Way better than me,” I agreed, nodding toward my laptop. “Just look at my life.”

Alyssa softened as I knew she would. “That’s not your life, Cat. It’s just…where you are right now.”

“Yeah, broke.”

Her phone buzzed on the table, and she pulled her hand out of my grip to read the message. “It’s from my boss,” she said, showing it to me. “He sent me the agency’s name and a link to their website. Should we check it out?”

“Why not?” I sighed and woke my computer up. “What do I have to lose?”

CHAPTER 4

DAVID

Per the custody agreement, I had to send my ex, Chloe, formal notification of the change in Lily’s caregiver, and I had to make a good faith effort to do it in person. It was one of those bullshit clauses her lawyers added to make it look like she was really involved. I didn’t bother fighting it at the time because I never foresaw a day in which it would come into play.

I put it off as long as I could, and then I set up a video call. The in person part was the biggest joke of all. Lily’s mom hadn’t bothered to be in person for much of anything since she left five years ago. I hadn’t seen her since Lily’s third birthday, and I didn’t even know where she was living now. When she picked up, I was as unsurprised to see palm trees in the background as I would have been to see glaciers.

“David, it’s so good to hear from you,” Chloe said, radiating sunny warmth, as if we were old friends who only caught up once in a while.

I got straight to the point. “Mrs. Barnes is moving to California. I’m hiring a new nanny.”

“Oh fantastic! I’m in California now.”

I waited a beat, giving my brain a chance to formulate a response other than, So fucking what? When it didn’t offer anything else, I said, “No objections?”

“To what? Mrs. Barnes moving to California?” The phone bobbed as Chloe straightened up on her lounge chair, seeming genuinely confused. I had the feeling she was trying to remember if Mrs. Barnes was the maid or the woman who did everything with our daughter. And for the hundredth time, I wondered why my ex had bothered fighting for joint legal custody of our daughter.

“No, Chloe,” I gritted out. “To the change in Lily’s caregiving situation.”

“Oh, no! Of course not.” There was a pause as Chloe looked up at someone off screen with a beatific smile and reached up. A second later, a tall frothy drink with an umbrella sticking out of it traversed the screen. I checked the clock. It was two in the afternoon here, which meant it was only eleven am where she was. Not that it was my business anymore–and loving Chloe had been like a business arrangement. My ex’s candy pink lips closed around the straw, and she took a long sip before asking, “How is she, David?”

“Who? Mrs. Barnes?” I asked sarcastically, pissed off anew by the sight of what Chloe had chosen over us. It wasn’t just the morning cocktail–Chloe could have had that here, too, though I would have given her shit for it. It was everything. The palm fronds waving gently behind her head. The sounds of tinkling laughter and music. The poolside service at what was likely an extremely expensive resort. Mrs. Barnes gave me shit for choosing work over my daughter, but Chloe had chosen a fucking vacation. A lifetime of them. Financed by whatever wealthy moron she had on the hook. She’d had me on it long enough, though she’d made the mistake of turning it into a game of housewife and mother.

That was a game she realized she didn’t want to play after all.

Chloe laughed like I was joking. “Not Mrs. Barnes, silly. Lily!”

“She’s fine,” I said shortly. The spiteful side of my tongue wanted to add that our daughter didn’t ask about her mother at all anymore, but I restrained myself. There was no point in fighting with Chloe. It was like charging at an opponent who held you at bay with one hand to your head and scrolled through their Instagram feed with the other while you tired yourself out swinging at air. We’d only been on the phone for two minutes and I was already feeling the fatigue. I rolled my shoulders back and made an excuse to disconnect the call.

“Wait, can’t I see her?” Chloe exclaimed.

“She’s at school,” I said, unable to keep the pointed sarcasm out of my voice. What had Chloe thought? That Lily was just dabbling with organized education the way Chloe had dabbled with marriage and motherhood? That right now, Lily was lounging by our pool, sipping a strawberry smoothie out of a curly straw?

Chloe’s lips turned down, and her voice was petulant when she said, “Why did you call me when I couldn’t talk to her?”

I frowned, surprised that she even cared. “The phone works both ways, Chlo,” I said. “No one is stopping you from calling her.”

Legally, I couldn’t. Her lawyers had made sure of it, like I was really concerned about Chloe being overly involved in our daughter’s life.