Page 13 of Soft Tissue Damage
“Not regular iced tea with sugar packets on the side, I hope.”
“No, sir.”
“Damn, that’s good service.” I relax my arm along the window as I drive and rest two fingers on the steering wheel. I can’t remember the last time I had a woman in my truck, and it feels good.
“You looked like you were working hard this evening. Your focus was intense. Was it security stuff?” she asks.
“Yes, security stuff.”
Elena looks out the window, and then turns back to me. “I love what you do. It gives me a warm feeling.”
I can’t help but smile at the road ahead. Oh, darlin’.Isn’t she sweet? When she says things like that, it gives me a warm feeling too. “Tell me if you still have that warm feeling after I’ve walked you through the complicated security system on my house. If you’re going to look after Rosie, you’ll need to understand how it works.”
“Mr. Grant, are you a paranoid, overprotective father?” she asks in a way that tells me she would like it if I said yes.
“Me? Never.”
Elena laughs.
The warm feeling deepens. Are we flirting? This feels like flirting.
Ten minutes later, I pull into the driveway of my home, but I don’t put the truck into the garage since I’m going to drive Elena home.
“Wow, your home is beautiful,” she says, getting out.
It’s a two-story Georgian revival with six bedrooms, white columns, high ceilings, and tall Palladian windows. There’s a twelve-foot gate out front and a high fence encircling the property. Every inch of the house and garden is surveilled by cameras and microphones, and the recordings are backed up in real time to the cloud.
I wonder why Leon has never brought her here. Maybe he only takes girls to his mother’s place. Leon and Elena alone together under Rebecca’s casual care. I don’t like that thought at all.
I asked the nanny, Mrs. Kerr, to stay later tonight, and as I take Elena inside, I tell Mrs. Kerr she can head home. The nursery is upstairs, and Rosie is fast asleep with a night-light on that projects stars onto the ceiling. Mydaughter has curly blonde hair and she’s dressed in pink-and-white pajamas.
“Ohh, she’s beautiful,” Elena whispers, smiling with her hands resting on the edge of the crib. “She looks just like you. Are her eyes hazel?”
“They are. And she’s stubborn like me, but a whole lot sweeter. I need a babysitter overnight once or twice a week at short notice. Is that something you’d be interested in?”
Elena takes a long look at Rosie sleeping in her crib. Her blue-eyed gaze travels over the lilac-colored bunny blanket, the soft yellow wood of the crib, the pastel wallpaper decorated with woodland creatures. She smiles at the shelf of plump stuffed animals and admires the twinkling stars on the ceiling. I enjoyed decorating this nursery. I put up the shelves and wallpaper myself and painted the crib.
“I think I’d enjoy it a whole lot, Mr. Grant.”
I watch Elena intently, liking the idea of her in my house while I’m out doing dangerous things. Coming home to her with adrenaline still pumping through my body. “I can’t say exactly when I’d need you. My life can be unpredictable, but I’d give you a few days’ notice.”
Elena thinks for a moment. “That would work for me. I’ve been trying to pick up extra shifts at the diner, but there’s only so many hours it’s open. I was about to start looking for a second job. More waitressing work, probably.” She glances at Rosie and smiles. “Looking after your daughter instead sounds wonderful.”
“Let me show you around.” We head out into the hall,and I talk her through the multiple baby monitors, the security system, the panic buttons, what happens when the alarm is triggered, and I notice Elena looking overwhelmed.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”
She shakes her head. “Rosie’s your baby. This is your home. With the line of work you’re in, I wouldn’t be surprised byMission Impossiblelasers.”
“Those are only downstairs. I promise you that when you’re alone in this house at night, you’ll be completely safe.”
“I believe you. You’ve probably thought of everything. In your line of work, you must have heard all the Blackport break-in horror stories.”
I’m probably responsible for some of the break-in horror stories she’s heard about. “Rosie usually wakes twice in the night and needs to be settled again. The nanny comes at eight a.m., and you can leave then. I might be here when you wake up, I might not be, or I could be asleep. What do you think, would you like the job?” I tell her how much I’ll pay her, and her mouth falls open.
“Mr. Grant, that’s way too much.”
“Not if you’re worth as much as Leon says you are.”
