“Alright, we are out,” Brad said. I nodded, because this was a lost cause already.
“Wait. We’re not done here,” Mason protested, but Brad was already out the door.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I took a couple of cookies from that cookie jar on the table.” She lifted her purse, flipped open the flap, and pulled out two cookies, the crumbs falling on the table. Then, she stuffed them back in.
My fury shifted to disgust. Did this woman really just put two unwrapped cookies in her purse?
Mason dropped his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.
The continuous smacking of her gum was grating on my nerves. I was about to dismiss her from this interview altogether, save Mason the misery of doing it, when she spoke first.
“So, before we formally start the interview, I have a few stipulations.” She sat up taller and pushed her chest out, her cleavage almost falling out of her V-neck tank top. “I will need every weekend off along with every other Thursday and every first Monday of the month. I won’t do bath time ’cause, yeah, that’s kinda gross.” She blew a bubble, popped it, and sucked it back into her mouth. “I don’t cook but can microwave. I figure I’ll be the one grocery shopping, so no worries on food there. And is the pay negotiable? Because it seems pretty low for a full-time, live-in nanny.” She smacked on her gum. “Oh, and is there a maid? ’Cause I’m the nanny, not the maid.”
Mason shot up from his chair so fast that it fell backward. “Get out.” He breathed heavily through his nose, and his voice was barely controlled. He pointed to the door, and his jaw clenched. “Kindly get out of our house.”
The woman pursed her lips, looking around as though she didn’t understand the simple directions. “Uh, did you, like”—smacked gum—“want to reschedule or something, then?”
“Get out!” Mason’s normally calm voice boomed and echoed through our halls, making the woman jump to a standing position and scurry out.
When the door shut in the foyer, Mason rubbed at his forehead. “We’ll never find someone.” With both hands on the dining room table, his head hung, defeated.
I knew how many hours he’d spent going through numerous résumés and background checks, and I felt for him.
I patted his back, grateful that I had my brothers through this process. “We will. It’ll just take some time. You know I appreciate all you’re doing, right?”
He lifted his head and let out one long sigh. “They’re my girls too. And I’m not stopping until we find the perfect person.”
I nodded. “We’ll continue interviews when I get back from Cape Cod.”
I’d promised the girls one last trip before school started, and a promise made was a promise met in my book. What I’d learned through my experiences was that life was too short, and I’d be damned if my girls missed out.
Mason pointed to me. “Go get packed. Don’t you leave tomorrow morning? Just remember, the only rule is, don’t call us.” He looked at me sternly. “Brad and I have work handled.”
I sighed in resignation. They’d made me promise in front of the girls that I wouldn’t open my laptop to check email or pick up my phone even if it was my secretary or anyone from work.
I tipped my chin, patted his back, and headed out the dining room to pack. It would be one of the last vacations that we took with Patty, our nanny.
I smiled because quality time with my girls was exactly what I craved.
Chapter 2
Charles
I tipped back my beer and rested against the beach chair, feeling the granules of sand beneath my toes.
Mary screamed for her older sister to chase her, but Sarah stayed, sitting cross-legged on the sand, pail and shovel in hand, going about her business and building her human-sized sand castle.
“Come on, Sarah! Play with me.” The whine was heavy in Mary’s voice.
I saw it coming from a mile away. Maybe, as their father, I should have stopped it, but this, their uninhibited fun, was what gave me joy.
Mary, a budding schemer, tiptoed up to Sarah and lifted a pail full of water. Then, she proceeded to dump it all on Sarah, the water ruining part of her creation, turning the sand castle to a plop of sand goo. Sarah, spluttering and about as raging mad as a ten-year-old could be, took off like a cheetah after Mary.