Page 76 of The Nanny and the Hothead
“Two and a half years,” Charlotte answered. She’d gone white and looked as flabbergasted as he felt as Madelyn plowed on.
“Surely you agree with the choice of Charlotte for your photographer, Mitch. You did hire her to be your son’s nanny. You already trust her,” the nanny matchmaker finished, emphasizing the word trust as he absorbed the impact of the word.
Trust?
The jarring syllable hung in the air—but the ring of the word didn’t burn quite as hot as it usually did.
“You have a business card, don’t you, dear?” Madelyn asked, gesturing to Charlotte’s tote.
“Yes, I do,” Charlotte answered, producing the slim rectangle. “I’ve also worked as a mermaid, but those skills probably won’t be required to work in a food truck. Unless it’s an underwater food truck. But who would want a soggy grilled cheese sandwich?” Charlotte gushed nervously. She’d blushed, and it was utterly enchanting.
Madelyn handed Charlotte’s card to Gwen.
“What about staffing the front?” Ines remarked.
“I’m sure Charlotte can help with that—at least until Mitch finds someone he deems suitable,” Madelyn answered smoothly. “Might I also suggest that you don’t charge for the sandwiches? Each time the food truck appears, it’s an act of charity—a way to give back to the community.”
“I love that,” Gwen breathed, nodding furiously. The publisher was nearly foaming at the mouth with excitement.
“That would definitely help improve your image, Mitch,” Ines added. “We could highlight the softer side and not the—”
“Hothead,” Oscar interrupted through a wide yawn. “Oops, I mean,” the boy corrected, then tapped his foot twice.
“Well, Mitch? What do you say?” Madelyn pressed. “It appears you have everything you need right here. I’d call this a most fortunate twist of fate.”
That sure as hell was one way to put it!
He wasn’t an idiot. He was smart enough to understand that this was the way forward if he wanted to get his career back on track. But in the blink of an eye, this endeavor had become about a lot more than a publicity stunt for a book. The rapid beat of his heart and his hammering pulse spoke to that.He glanced over his shoulder at the Say Cheese, Louise food truck, then looked from Oscar to Charlotte.
He crossed his arms and blew out an exasperated breath. “Okay, we’ve got our concept for the book. I’m in for the Say Cheese, Louise reboot.”
Gwen, Ines, and Madelyn clustered together, clucking like giddy hens. He turned his back to them and studied the food truck. The place had once been like a second home. Awash with competing emotions, he was startled when Charlotte rested her hand on his forearm.
She gave him one of her strawberry sunshine grins. “We can do this,” she said, her voice wrapping him in an invisible warmth.
He nodded.
They could. But it was more than that. And he felt it in his bones. It was a realization that hit him like a wrecking ball.
This endeavor was either going to make him or break him.
Thirteen
Charlotte
Charlotte peeredout of Oscar’s window, making sure to stay behind the curtains. The boy’s second-floor room looked out onto the circular driveway. Gazing down on pools of light and swaths of inky darkness, she had a bird’s-eye view of the fir trees and the smattering of aspens shimmering in the breeze that lined the drive. But she wasn’t interested in the landscape.
No, something else had captured her attention.
The nanny match people had taken the RV, but the driveway wasn’t empty. She’d casually drifted toward the window to get a look outside at least ten times over the last twenty minutes.
She couldn’t help herself.
After they’d said goodbye to Ines, Gwen, and Madelyn, Mitch asked her to help Oscar get ready for bed while he prepped the food truck that now sat parked below Oscar’s window. She couldn’t help but be curious—and feel a pang of anxiety, or was that excitement? It was still hard to comprehend that her Say Cheese, Louise reboot idea had snowballed into her working as not only his son’s nanny but his photographer and his food truck assistant.
She’d be with him all day, every day.
And there he was—carrying a cardboard box into the food truck.
