Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Hasn't he given me plenty?
My head keeps spinning with three hard lessons from this morning.
Yes, he's as outrageous, short-fused, and brutally sexy as his reputation says.
Yes, he needs a nanny.
And yes, I think his cocky bluster is making me insane.
Because the longer I stare at those two words – NANNY WANTED – the bigger an insufferable prick I see. I also see my own tiny reflection, fists balled and jaw clenched. Ready to prove someone wrong.
I'm trembling, defiant, and oh-so-ready to put Marshal Howard in his rightful place.
What a day.
I worry, doubt, and second guess the madness I'm considering the whole drive home. Thankfully, the rest of my shift is smoother than this morning. There are only ten more other patients before I'm off several hours later. Each with more tact and kindness than the Castoff has in his thumb.
A saner Sadie would've tossed all his sloppy nanny ads like June wanted. But this stupid, desperate new me kept one in my purse.
Actually, it's even worse. His number might already be in my contacts.
There's no calm at my parents' place. I'm still living in the same cramped upstairs bedroom I've had since I was a girl. The only place I've ever felt comfortable in this house since family business brought me home months ago.
“How's she doing today?” I ask dad, laying my keys on the counter. It's always the first question as soon as I'm through the door. He barely glances up from his newspaper, sipping his evening Earl Grey. “Okay, so wrong question. How are you?”
“I'm fine. Your mom's the same as always, babe. She's resting right now. Tried to keep her off the canvas this morning, knowing how upsets she gets when her muse doesn't flow.” He sets his tea down and looks away. “You know how that goes.”
Oh, yes. I know.
The pit in my stomach becomes a chasm.
I think I've seen my own mother meltdown like a toddler more than a dozen times since summer.
But it isn't her fault. She's sick.
It started not long after dad retired, after her paintings and sculptures stopped bringing in a healthy side income. The drugs barely help on the rare days she'll actually take them. The shrinks never do.
She's lost her muse, and I think a piece of her soul went with it.
However messed up the rest of her mind is, mother's pride remains intact. I'm glad that's the case for one of us.
“Should I check in?” I give him another look, grabbing an iced mocha from the fridge, my go-to evening treat. “Maybe bring her one of these? She's in a better mood sometimes after caffeine.”
“No. The woman blew through a whole pot of coffee this morning. Mostly decaff. I never mix in more of the real stuff than I need to.” He stands, brushes past me, and clinks his cup in the sink. “Besides, dinner should be ready in an hour or two. Company, too. Jackson and Ginger are coming over.”
My jaw tenses mid-sip, evening coffee bliss ruined hearing my brother's name. My sister-in-law, I don't mind. Too bad she's married to the horse's ass who brought me back to this miserable town.
“That's okay, isn't it? Sorry, I should've told you this morning.” Dad smiles sheepishly, running water for the dishes. His familiar crooked smile looks more beat up than ever under this thick black frames.
It can't be easy being the only one trying to keep this family together, without the tensions, having to deal with mother constantly. I try to help him.
Isn't that the reason I came home? To help? I can't stand seeing this ruin his retirement.
That's what really brought me home. Not Jackson's stupid guilt trip. Dad deserves better. Both my parents do.
“Sadie?” He says my name while my eyes are still closed.
Then they're wide open. “It's fine. I'll manage, I'm sure. If they're coming soon, we'd better get her ready.”
He nods, turning back to the sink, leaving me to trundle upstairs to their bedroom.
I don't know how I'll break the news about the nanny job. It would've been a difficult conversation under any circumstances, but with tonight's company? I can't ignore the bad blood with Marshal and my brother.
For now, I try to forget it.
“Mom? It's me.” I knock gently at the door and wait. A second or two later, I hear her footsteps pad over. She whips the door open, old hinges groaning.
“Good day, sweetie?” Even under her frizzy bedhead, she's the same no nonsense green-eyed woman who raised me.
“Lovely. Dad says dinner's coming up. Apparently, we're having Jackson tonight, too.”
Her tired smile grows. “Wonderful! Then I'll have a few hours to work before they come –“
“Mom, no!” I reach out, grabbing her hand before she's able to turn around and close the door in my face. I sigh, hating how hard this always is. “You've been at it all day, I heard. I really think you need some time to rest, clean up, re-charge. Maybe help us with the meal prep before they're here? I know dad could use a hand.”