Page 31 of Imperfect Arrangement
Miss Pershing, the bane of my existence: Not that I don’t want your end of the bargain to be true. I actually want the opposite of it.
There’s something in those words that unravels the anxiety knotted up in me. Knowing she’s in—truly in—soothes every raw edge I’ve been carrying around since I sent that offer. Without a second thought, I update her contact.
Me: I’ll draw up the papers. Can you start tomorrow?
Willow: Tomorrow? Already?
I wait, watching the typing bubble appear and disappear as she processes.
Willow: Fine. But I can only start tomorrow evening. I’ve arranged for the day manager at Whispering Willow to take over my responsibilities, but I still have to do a proper handover.
Me: That works for me.
Willow: Um, okay then.
Me: I’ll send you my address. Do you want me to send a driver?
Willow: No, thanks. I’ll drive my own truck.
Me: And, Willow, don’t forget the dog.
Willow: Of course not. I know your daughter thinks Captain Lick and I are a package deal.
* * *
“Why doyou still look so sad?” Rowan signs, his brow furrowing as he cracks open his soda and passes me one, the click of aluminum breaking the quiet night air. “Thought all your problems were solved.”
Out of all my cousins, Rowan’s the easiest to talk to, always has been. He’s got this zen thing about him—like a human Xanax. He’s the guy you spill your secrets to without fear of judgment. If secret-keeping were an Olympic sport, Rowan would always win the gold.
I roll the can between my hands, staring out at the scenery bathed in soft moonlight. Rowan’s house, nestled atop the Cherrywood hills, feels like a storybook sanctuary. It’s the kind of place where time slows and you almost forget the rest of the world even exists beyond the winding roads. When we all clung to the city, Rowan built his life out here. And maybe it wasn’t a total surprise, given his parents’ property is just a few miles away. I understand his need to stay close to Uncle Zane, his dad, the only person who gets to hear his voice now.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
I nod. Beautiful is an understatement. This place is breathtaking, like the universe decided to gift wrap serenity just for him.
He gives my knee a nudge, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You wanna tell me what’s going on, or am I supposed to play ‘guess the emotion’?”
I sigh, cracking open the can and taking a swig. “You think I don’t have any problems?”
Rowan’s face breaks into a smug grin. “You convinced a business owner to quit running her family’s bed-and-breakfast and become a full-time nanny. At this point, you’re practically a god in my book.”
I let him enjoy his grin for a moment while I check my phone, glancing at the update from Grandpa Will that Quill’s still sleeping soundly. I pocket the phone and shoot Rowan a glare. “Here I was thinking you’d be the right person to talk to.”
He raises his can in a mock toast. “Seriously though, how’d you pull it off? Bribery? Threats? Blood pact?”
“Why does everyone think I’m some kind of villain? I don’t go around making threats to businesswomen, Ro.”
He leans back against the porch rail, grinning as he taps his chin thoughtfully. “Might have something to do with your aura. At work, you look like the kind of guy who could buy someone’s soul and make them say thank you. But we all know at home, you’re like Nemo’s dad.”
I don’t have to think twice about which title I like better. I’ll gladly be a neurotic clown fish than an asshole shark any day.
I push his hands away. “My aura is fine. You need glasses.”
His grin only widens, and before he can throw more wild theories my way, I decide to cut to the chase. “Quill spoke to her.” My voice is low, but the weight behind the words makes him straighten up.
If there’s anyone who would understand why I bent over backward to get Willow Pershing under my roof, even though my brain and heart are playing tug-of-war over her, it’s him. He doesn’t need to ask who “her” is. He knows.
“You heard Quill’s voice?” Rowan taps on my shoulders, dragging me away from the beautiful face of my new nanny.
