Page 29 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
Snap the fuck out of it man.
“Yes. Of course. Please come in.”
Forcing a little cough to clear the gravel from my throat, I stepped back and gestured her forward. I shut the door when she was fully inside.
“Of course I remember you. You were amazing with all the kids. Thanks so much for coming. I’m so glad you wanted the job. When you told me you were leaving the preschool, I thought you had another offer.”
She looked away toward the right then down at her foot then back at me with a shy smile. “I had a change of plans. I’m grateful for this chance.”
I inhaled, feeling shaky. Her voice was soft, a bit breathy, and it seemed to reach inside my chest like a wisp of smoke, curling down and around my spinal column and causing a shiver.
This might have been a mistake.I forced myself to smile and behave normally, but inside I felt stricken. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle having this celestial being living in my house.
Angelina wastoobeautiful—at least as far as my own personal brand of beautiful went. Everything about her appealed to me in a major way.
Yes, I desperately needed a nanny, and yes, she was by far the best candidate for the job, but was it smart to hire a woman I had such an instantaneous, lightning-bolt attraction to?
“Is that all the luggage you brought?” I asked. “Or is someone delivering it later?”
She swallowed hard, and the pink cheeks darkened a shade. “This is all I have. I had to leave home… r-rather quickly. Cinda let me borrow the clothes I’m wearing now. I’ll have to go shopping for some more things when I get a chance.”
“I see.” But I didn’t.
Cinda had said Angelina lived right down the street. She was a rich girl from an old money Eastport Bay family. How could she have nothing but the clothes on her back?
It troubled me. Maybe this job for her was more than just something to keep her busy over the summer. Maybe sheneededit.
Suddenly curiosity was eating me alive.
Skyla and Claire ran into the foyer, dark curls flying as they bounded across the shiny floor in their sock feet—something I’d warned them against repeatedly—and skidded to a stop right in front of Angelina.
“Are you going to live here and take care of us?” Skyla asked, her voice echoing off the walls and high ceiling.
She didn’t sound exactly thrilled at the prospect. Claire as well had her little arms folded across her chest and surveyed Angelina with suspicion but also a healthy dose of wonder.
Angelina sat on the floor so she was at eye level with the girls. “I’d like to. But only if it’s okay with you. And only on a trial basis. We have to make sure we all like living together, and that you two like the breakfasts and lunches and dinners I’m going to cook for you, and going to the zoo and the children’s museum in Providence and the other places I’m going to take you, and that you like all the art projects I have planned and the games I’ve thought of to play with you.”
“We like games,” Claire enthused, clearly won over already. “And the zoo!”
Skyla tapped her small chin, gazing up at the chandelier and dramatizing deep thought. “I did like the treasure hunt you made up at AJ’s party.”
“Speaking of that,” Angelina said, “we’re also going to have lots of playdates—with AJ and with some of the other kids I know who also have nannies watching them for the summer.”
“Do you know a lot of kids?” asked Skyla, warming to the prospect. She loved her little sister, but I knew she’d been longing for some children her own age to play with as well.
“I do. I’ve been a teacher for the past few years, and I know lots and lots of kids—many of them live on this street or very close by. A lot of them like to go to a certain beach nearby in the summer, and we can go there too. Do you like the beach?”
As my daughters chatted happily with her, I was amazed at how easy it was for Angelina to engage them, and how she knew the exact topics girls their age would like to talk about.
She was still down on their level, seeming oblivious to the cold hardness of the marble floor, focused only on the bright, interested faces of my little girls. My heart swelled at their clear fascination with her.
At one point, Claire reached out and stroked a long lock of hair that had fallen over Angelina’s shoulder.
“You’re pretty,” she said.
Angelina smiled. “Thank you. I think you’re pretty, too. Both of you. I love your curls. We’ll have to play beauty shop one day soon and find all kinds of ways to put your hair up with ribbons and jewels and things.”
Claire clapped in excitement, but Skyla scowled. “I don’t like having my hair brushed. It hurts.”
