Page 48 of Nanny and the Beast

"We can't let the staff have all the fun now, can we?" I say, smiling at James.

He wipes his tears with the back of his hand and nods, telling me he agrees.

I'm aware of Mr. Sinclair watching us through the rearview mirror. I glance up at him. For a single moment, his armor is down. He's unguarded as he watches the joy sneak up on the kid's face.

"Ask your uncle for permission," I say to James.

"Uncle Klaus, can we please get Halloween decorations after school?" James asks sweetly.

Mr. Sinclair nods. "I guess we have to now. We'll go after school."

James throws his little hands into the air and cheers. Even Rosalie looks pleased with the evening plans.

Their joy is infectious. But when I glance back at Mr. Sinclair, I see his eyes flash. He's displeased.

James starts talking about everything he wants to do for Halloween. His sister rolls her eyes, but I notice her legs are swinging.

Before long, wereach the private school. The property spans several acres of vibrant, lush greenery. I notice that the other cars in the drop-off zone are also luxury vehicles.

I get out of the car to say goodbye to the kids.

They look at Mr. Sinclair, but he only nods at them and goes back to looking at his phone. I wave to the kids until they walk through the front doors.

"Get back in the car, Emma," Mr. Sinclair says. "I need to have a word with you."

I swallow and remind myself that he's not as cruel as he looks. When I get in the back seat, the driver steps out of the car to give us privacy.

"Do you care to explain yourself?" Mr. Sinclair asks.

"I'm sorry. I should have asked you before promising him anything," I say.

He blinks, taken aback by my apology.

The two of us have been on relatively good terms today, and I don't want to ruin that already.

"Yes, you should have run it by me," he says.

"Can I ask you a question?" I say.

"You and your questions." He tilts his head to study me.

"Does James always get uneasy in the car?" I ask.

He studies me for a moment before answering. "He doesn't enjoy going to school sometimes."

"Does he go anywhere for extracurriculars?" I ask.

"The tutors come to us," he says. "Why?"

"Do you take him anywhere on the weekends?" I ask. "To a friend's house, perhaps?"

"All playdates are located at home," he says. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Because I have a feeling that it's not the school that makes him anxious," I say. "It could be the car."

"The car?"

"His parents died in a car accident, right?" I say. "That might be why he gets so upset whenever he's in a car."

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