Page 17 of Delayed Penalty

“It’s genius, really. And it works out perfectly since you just lost your job.”

I wince, daring another glance at Hayes, who lifts a single brow in my direction. I duck my head, hoping he doesn’t see how red my cheeks have become. I’m not sure if I’m more embarrassed by my mother just blurting it out for all to hear or if it’s because she said it so casually since it happens so often.

“You!” She points to me.

“What about me?” I ask, not sure I want to know the answer given how excited she is. That can either be a really good thing or really bad.

“You can help him!”

I jerk my head back. “Excuse me?”

“You can nanny for him.” Her eyes are bright with excitement as if she’s just coming up with the solution to everyone’s problems, and she sort of has.

I don’thave a job right now, soanyincome wouldbe nice, and apparently Hayes here needs a nanny. This would be a win-win, except that I’m not a nanny. I’ve babysat my nieces and nephews, but that’s different. I’ve known them since they came screaming into this world. I don’t know Hayes or his niece. My mother might think it’s a genius idea, but no matter how desperate I am, it’s not happening.

“No,” I say simply, turning to Hayes and ignoring the hard stare my mother’s throwing my way. “That’ll be ten seventy-five.”

Hayes thrusts a card at me, and I take it, swiping it through the machine before handing it back while he takes cash from his wallet—a crisp twenty-dollar bill—and tucks it into the jar like he didn’t just spend more on a tip than he did his entire breakfast.

Must be nice, rich bastard.

“We’ll have your breakfast out in a jiffy,” I tell him with a smile he doesn’t return.

He just leads his niece to the table near the front window and settles in the chair opposite her.

“Quinn!” hisses my mom the moment they’re seated.

“Mother,” I return calmly, turning to pour his black-like-his-soul coffee.

“That poor man needs help, and you know it.”

“Why do you care about some random customer so much?”

“Because he’s not just somerandom customerand you know it.”

Which is why I don’t feel bad for him. He makes millions. He doesn’t need help from some girl who can’t even afford to pay her own rent.

“So he’s a hockey player, big deal. Why should that make me feel bad for him?”

“Because he’s a good man who took his niece in when she needed it and is now her sole guardian and needs a nanny for her during the season and clearly has no clue where to start. I mean, look at them. Do you really think he has a handle on this situation?”

She waves her hand toward the duo. Flora’s attention is trained on her hands, which are folded together in her lap, her little shoulders sunken in. And Hayes…well, he just watches her. They aren’t engaging in conversation like every other patron in here. They aren’t smiling or sharing jokes. They’re just sitting there awkwardly like they’re total strangers when they’re family. If I were at that table with my niece or nephew, we’d be playing a silly slap game, or I’d be making faces at them, doing anything I could to get them to laugh, but not these two.

And damn if that doesn’t make me sad.

“Are they always like that?” I ask.

“Pretty much. I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen them talk to one another formore than a few sentences, and they’re here multiple days a week. Don’t even get me started on that.” She huffs, grabbing the donut Flora ordered from the case. I don’t miss her pulling out the shaker of sprinkles and adding even more to the top before plating it. “I bet they don’t have a single decent thing to eat in that house if he’s feeding her donuts daily.”

I want to remind her that she used to feed us kids sweets every day, but I don’t think it would be wise given how much this clearly bothers her.

“And let’s not forget his profession. You know how often your brother is gone. How can he raise a kid on his own with no help?”

I shrug. “I’m sure he’ll find someone.”

“It’s been months, Quinn, and he hasn’t found anyone.”

I’d be lying if I said that didn’t tug at my heart, but I try my best to push it aside. I have my own problems to worry about. I don’t need to start feeling bad for some multi-millionaire who can’t find a babysitter.

---