Page 67 of The Nanny and the Nerd
Phoebe grabbed Penelope’s hand. “Come on, Penny! Let’s help Mrs. Sullivan.”
“It’s getting late. We should be heading out as well,” his mother chimed.
“I’ll get the car ready,” Darla answered, heading for the front door as Penelope, Phoebe, and Mrs. Sullivan walked to the elevator.
In a bustle of goodbyes, the kitchen cleared, leaving only himself and his mother.
“Are you going to eat that cookie?” she teased as she maneuvered her wheelchair toward the table, then tapped the spot next to her. He joined her and set the treat on the table, then removed his crown.
“She’s great, Rowen,” his mother said, folding her hands in her lap.
He sat back in the chair. “She’s doing better in school.”
“I’m not talking about Phoebe,” she replied, with a knowing lilt to her voice.
Yeah, he knew that.
He traced an invisible line on the table’s sleek surface. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been around much.”
“Penny said that Phoebe had an episode, but you were able to calm her down,” she said, unease etched in her expression.
He thought back to that night. How many things he’d had weighing on him—the stress, his concern for his niece, and the kiss he never wanted to end.
“The alarm went off accidentally. It reminded Phoebe of the sound the health app made with the onset of your stroke. I shouldn’t have made the alert so jarring,” he conceded.
His mother patted his hand. “That health app you developed saved my life.”
“And scared the hell out of Phoebe,” he countered.
“She’ll be okay. She’s a resilient little thing. I know Andrew and Melanie would be grateful you’ve taken her in. I know I certainly am.”
He nodded, recalling his brother’s easy smile. “Andrew was more than a brother. He was my best friend.”
If he were a sentimental man, this would be the moment he’d let his guard down. Where he’d follow his mother’s cue and take a walk down memory lane. But he wasn’t. And it didn’t have anything to do with being callous or cruel. It was the opposite. He missed his adoptive brother terribly—missed his acceptance and missed the way he could be himself when it was just the two of them.
His brother had been one hell of a coder. He’d run an entire division of Gale Tech, and not once had he displayed an ounce of jealousy or a thread of envy over his little brother’s success. Andrew had been so damned proud. How he missed the man’s booming laughter! Andrew Gale lit up every room he entered. In this way, they balanced each other. Well, Andy would have been fine without him. This was a given. Everyone loved the guy.
Loved.
He still hated thinking about his brother in the past tense.
His mother patted his hand. “When we told Andy that we wanted to foster a child, he’d been worried he wouldn’t know how to be a brother. You made it easy for him.”
“I don’t know about that. Andy was about as great a brother as anyone could hope for.”
His mom smiled. “That’s what he’d say about you.”
Rowen stared hard at the damned cookie, tamping down the emotion welling in his chest.
“You know you have a good heart, RowenTeaguesGale,” she said with another pat.
And boom. With one word, he was reminded why he had to live the way he did.
He stiffened at the sound of his last name—his biological father’s last name. When the Gales adopted him, they’d made it his middle name as a connection to his past. But he’d been all too ready to drop the reminder of a life better left forgotten.
“Are you and Penny…” his mother began, then trailed off.
He sat up, ramrod straight. “Are we what? She’s the nanny.”
