Читать книгу October Kiss - Kristen Ethridge - Страница 5

Chapter One

Fall in Seattle never disappointed Poppy Summerall. The air around Puget Sound felt crisp and clear as it tickled the leaves of the dense foliage all around the Pacific Northwest. The leaves on the trees showed off, trumpeting their colors in a visual symphony of deep orange and burning red and shocking gold.

Kids around the area had already headed back to school. The salmon in the local streams had begun to jump their way back to the waters they’d once called home. And fall festivals began to set up operations, full of apples and corn and pumpkins.

Poppy considered pumpkins to be her favorite. She loved them not just because they signaled the warmth and joy of spending time with family for the upcoming holiday season. They also reminded her of the fun and silliness of Halloween, of costumes and pretend, of candy and cookies. They reminded her of a time in her childhood that wasn’t tainted with the heartbreak of her parents’ divorce. Halloween had always been a moment on the calendar where she could indulge her free spirit and just be.

Halloween got Poppy. It knew everyone just needed a time for fun in their lives.

Halloween understood that no one could be serious all the time.

Poppy knew that, too. Unfortunately, adulting and paying bills on time and all the other things that signaled membership in the ranks of being a grown-up didn’t always respect Poppy’s need to be her own person, or her struggles to find her own way.

Her mind wandered as she brought her yoga class to the heart of their day’s practice. Why couldn’t things be like Halloween and yoga—fun, accompanied by a chance to go with the flow?

“Good, everybody. Full plank. Good. Belly towards your spine. And now we’re going to lower down and come up into what I like to call…ssssssssnake.”

Poppy touched her stomach and chest to her mat, then tucked her elbows beside her and pushed her torso upwards. No one laughed at her slithering reptile impression.

Didn’t anyone have fun anymore?

She decided to ignore the slightly confused stares from the attendees of the yoga class dotted around the grass in front of her. “There’s this great yoga word for this pose…but I can’t remember what it is. It kinda sounds like a sneeze. It’s like…asnasnanataaaa…aaahnnnnaaaaanana.”

A voice came from the front row as Poppy pulled up to one knee, then lifted her arms to the puffy white clouds above.

“Anjaneyasana.”

“Anjaneyasana!” Of course. That was it. Poppy couldn’t believe she hadn’t been able to remember it. For all her thoughts about silliness the last few minutes, forgetting that crazy yoga word took the cake. “Thank you, Mrs. Klemmer.”

“And you have to make sure you keep your knee over your ankle, so you don’t damage your patella,” Mrs. Klemmer continued.

Really, Mrs. Klemmer sounded so much better at this gig than Poppy.

Poppy loved the freedom of yoga, but the instruction part—the part where you had to make sure everyone and everything was lined up right—that always felt difficult. She couldn’t just be while teaching yoga. She had to be on. As she thought about it, Poppy began to realize that maybe teaching these yoga classes in the park wasn’t going to be the career path for her. These students deserved someone who was committed to their instruction, someone whose strength was in deepening their practice. Poppy loved yoga and she loved being out here teaching, but she questioned everything these days. Even what she was doing right this moment.

What if Poppy’s biggest concern was to get some exercise outside while breathing the fresh fall air—not thinking about patellas? What would that mean for these folks? Suddenly, Poppy’s mind began to whirl.

“Oh.” She beckoned Mrs. Klemmer up to the front mat. “Do you want to come up and show us?”

Mrs. Klemmer’s graying ponytail jiggled slightly at the nape of her neck as she nodded and jogged up to where Poppy was standing.

“Great.” Poppy stepped aside and watched as the older woman knelt low into the pose, then stretched each arm tall alongside her ears.

She looked precise. She looked focused. She looked like a real yoga teacher.

“Knee. Over. The. Ankle. Arms up in the air. Anjaneyasana.” She leaned forward, swooping down to rest her hands lightly on the mat before transitioning into the next pose. “Warrior two.”

Mrs. Klemmer showed the poise of a true yogi.

In comparison, Poppy felt more like Yogi Bear.

“Um…Mrs. Klemmer?” Poppy dropped her voice to a whisper as Mrs. Klemmer continued through the salutation.

“Yeah?” The older woman never broke stride.

“You’re very good at this. Do you want to take over the class?”

Mrs. Klemmer turned her head slightly to acknowledge Poppy’s question. “Oh. Sure. Of course.”

It seemed like Mrs. Klemmer wasn’t even shocked by Poppy bringing the idea up.

“Really? That would be great.” Poppy thought the feeling that washed over her was relief. But she wasn’t entirely certain.

“Okay.”

Was Poppy’s inadequacy as a yoga instructor that apparent? Well, this pretty much indicated that she could scratch anything instructionally-based off the list of potential careers…

“I’m gonna go.”

Mrs. Klemmer’s perfect rhythm of inhaling and exhaling never varied. “Okay. Bye.”

“I’m just gonna get my bag.” Poppy contorted herself underneath the teacher’s outstretched arm and snatched the leather duffel off the ground. “Thank you.”

There was nothing left to do but race away from the class and far from her latest failed career incarnation.

Later that afternoon, Poppy’s journey to adulting didn’t get any smoother. She’d been working at Marino’s Pizza Parlor near the University of Washington campus for about a month to put a little regular money in her bank account until the number of yoga students at her classes picked up. She’d hoped to build a base of clients who would recommend her, so she could then start charging for the classes and maybe find her place in Seattle.

At first, the management at Marino’s put her on the register while another team member was out taking care of a sick grandmother. But when Monica came back, Jimmy, the manager, transferred Poppy to the kitchen.

Today was her third day as a chef—so to speak—and Poppy could honestly say it was her third day of disaster. Yesterday, she’d tripped and knocked a pizza off the peel. It slid so far back into the depths of the brick oven that Jimmy wasn’t able to retrieve it before it became a charred circle of doom.

So far, nothing she’d made was going to inspire any fancy reviews on Yelp. But at least tossing dough in the air spoke to her carefree side.

Until she lost control of the disc of pizza dough in the air, and it came darned close to landing smack on her face. Poppy stuck her hands up to catch the dough, but instead it hit her fingers and tore. Poppy realized that—much like the yoga classes—her zen wasn’t going to be found in pizza either.

“I’m sorry, Jimmy. I don’t think I’m very good at this.”

Jimmy’s brow furrowed as he studied the sad result of her efforts. “It happens.”

Poppy lifted her blue apron from atop her Marino’s-issued green polo shirt. Her zen clearly wasn’t going to be found in synthetic fabrics, either. She wadded the apron in a ball and handed it to Jimmy.

“Now that you’re free, I was wondering if maybe we could go out sometime.” Jimmy looked a bit like a lovestruck teenager.

What was that song about moons and pizza pies? It seemed to be coming to life, right here in Marino’s.

Poppy’s mouth went dry. Wasn’t he supposed to tell her something about when she could come pick up her last check? Or, like, a reference or something? When did asking ex-employees out become part of the termination process?

“Oh…I don’t date my bosses.” The very thought made her feel icky. She could use something that centered her right about now. Too bad nothing in her life was working today. Not teaching yoga. Not pizza-making. And definitely not dating. Because she wasn’t going on a date with Jimmy.

Jimmy fired back with a practical observation. “Great. Because I’m not your boss anymore.”

“Or my ex-boss.” She knew she hadn’t let him down easy, but she didn’t really care. She needed to get out of Marino’s. She needed to take several deep breaths of the fall Seattle air.

Poppy grabbed a “Help Wanted” sign from under the counter and stuck it up to display on the kitchen’s countertop. Hopefully, the speed with which she walked away, never looking back, would make her point—about both her skills as a pizza chef and her unavailability as a potential date.

Adulting was hard. And, quite possibly, not for Poppy.

Nightfall didn’t make the day any better.

In a weak moment last week, Poppy had agreed to let her sister, Megan, set her up on a blind date. Megan’s husband had recently been deployed for six months from the nearby naval station in Everett. Megan had moped around for the first few weeks, and Poppy finally caved on this blind date thing because she’d thought it would make her sister happy.

When it came to Megan, Poppy would do just about anything. They’d been a dynamic duo for years, navigating weekends shuttled back-and-forth from one parent to the other. Poppy never would have made it without Megan, and she loved her sister with a fierceness that she often found hard to put into words.

Which is how she found herself doing the one thing she swore she’d never do again: letting someone fix her up on a date.

It wasn’t that Poppy didn’t believe in true love. She did. She really did. All she had to do was look at Megan and Gary to know that real, genuine love was out there. But like so many things, every time Poppy tried it, it went wrong.

Dates don’t always have to end in disaster, right? Poppy gave herself a mental pep talk as she watched tonight’s candidate for happily-ever-after, Mike, come up the front sidewalk. Besides, Megan knew Mike from the navy. He had to be a good guy if he sailed out on the high seas to defend America.

Poppy nodded, pleased with her own internal realization. She took a deep breath, then opened the door before Mike even knocked. She could do this.

He came inside for a moment and said hi to Megan as they exchanged initial pleasantries—Poppy felt pleased to notice nothing had seemed too awkward so far.

“Let me take your arm,” Mike said as they walked out. He smelled good. His cologne was manly. It smelled like something a guy who had a career defending his country would wear. He looked nice, too—he had a little bit of gel in his dark hair to sculpt it back.

Poppy noticed that even his clothes seemed to be ironed. He’d put in some effort for their evening out. You didn’t really see that much anymore. In a world of Tinder swiping, Mike might just be a Cyrano de Bergerac.

“Thank you.” She tucked her hand in the bend of his elbow. So far, so good. “What a gentleman. So, what are we doing tonight?”

Mike smiled down at her as he squeezed her hand. Poppy wanted to deny that she liked the way the closeness felt, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to get too far ahead of herself, but this was nice. It seemed like they were part of a team. Team Date.

She liked the sound of that. She’d never been much for sports, but she could find a way to get used to this kind of team.

“Tonight is dinner at a romantic little spot off the beaten track—the best food in the city.”

Poppy’s heart fluttered a little, the pit-pat of butterfly wings reinforcing what the lightning-quick thought in her mind had already told her. Not only had he ironed his pants, he’d thought about where they would eat. He’d planned this. He’d been looking forward to tonight and wanted to make it special.

And all the while, she’d been sulking because she’d been fixed up on another blind date. She’d assumed this would be one more dead end.

Well, shame on her. Shame on her for believing the worst about Mike before she’d ever met him. Shame on her for automatically writing off this date just because every other first date in her life had gone like the comic relief scene midway through a chick flick.

Tonight would be different. “That sounds great.”

Poppy meant every word she said. Mike’s plan did sound great. And it felt great to be positive and relaxed about tonight.

Maybe Mike was her zen.

“Yeah, then tomorrow I was thinking breakfast in the country with my mother—she’s very excited to meet you. Are you a size two? Because if you are, her wedding dress would be a perfect fit. We’ve got enough time to get in a spring wedding—I think it will be too humid here in July.”

Poppy pulled away, like a wayward thread unraveling the closeness she’d felt between them a moment ago.

“How do you feel about big families? My mother loves them. That’s why I’m the middle of five boys. I’ve always wanted a big family, too. Five worked for my parents. I think it will work for me, too. What do you say?”

Nothing. Poppy said nothing.

This wasn’t zen.

This was a zoo.

“Um? Mike? Ah…you know what? Suddenly, I’m not that hungry.” Poppy stumbled over her words. She took one step back. Then two. “But maybe we could take a rain check?”

As much as she’d meant what she’d said only moments before, she didn’t mean a word of what she was saying now. There was as much chance of her giving Mike a rain check as there was of a drought in Seattle.

“Sure…yeah…absolutely. It’s supposed to rain next week.”

Poppy disagreed. The forecast on any chance for romance with Mike was dry. High and dry.

She couldn’t close the door behind her quickly enough. Poppy needed space—and a physical barrier—between her and Mike.

That whole idea she’d had earlier about listening to Megan? Wrong. How did this stuff always happen to her?

Adulting. Dating. Zen. Pfft. It was all for the birds. This day would go down in Poppy history as the worst ever. She shuffled her feet on the hardwood floor so that Megan would unquestionably know Poppy had returned and wasn’t going back outside.

She wasn’t returning to Mike—or to the dating pool at all. Ever.

“Ooh. You’re back already. Two minutes. That is a record, even for you.”

Poppy decided to lay down the truth. “I may not know what I want, but I know what I don’t want.”

The sound of gears shifting and tires squealing could be clearly heard out on the street.

“What was that?” Megan turned her head and looked toward the front door.

Poppy sat down on the tall stool at the counter with a laugh. “That was the sound of the last time I let you fix me up.”

“His ex said he was a catch.”

“Maybe there’s a reason she’s his ex.”

Megan didn’t give in easily. “Or…maybe there’s a reason you don’t give anyone—or anything—a chance.”

Poppy reached for the pitcher of water and poured herself a glass. After the last two-and-a-half minutes, she honestly could have used something stronger, but for now, water would have to do.

Besides, water could wash away that snippy tone in her sister’s voice as well as anything could. “I give everything a chance.”

Megan squinted her eyes, then glanced down as she transferred macaroni and cheese to a serving dish on the counter. “Really? How was the job at the dental office?”

“Not—”

“Not for you.”

Poppy shrugged. She didn’t like where this was going. “I don’t like teeth.”

“You know who that sounds like?” Megan lowered the boom.

Totally unfair. Her sister was not playing by the rules. Poppy wasn’t going to take this lying down. She would sit up straight, here on this barstool, and defend herself.

“Don’t say Mom.”

“Did you read her last postcard?” Megan took a small paper rectangle with a glossy photo of a bear on the front from the fridge and handed it to Megan. “She’s in Maine on a hiking trip.”

Gotcha, Poppy thought. She’d shut down this whole ridiculous comparison, stat. Megan didn’t even know what was really going on with their mom right now. She’d correct her older sister and that would be the end of it.

“Oh! You’re two weeks behind. I just saw on her Facebook page that she met a bunch of tourists, and she’s joining them for a cruise.”

“Exactly. She can’t even commit to a hike.”

Wait. Where did Megan pull that arrow from? Her sister’s aim rang true. It pierced at Poppy’s heart.

“Well I can commit,” Poppy said, lowering her voice slightly. “I just haven’t found the thing I’m really good at yet.”

Megan wiped her hands on her apron. Poppy watched, feeling like Megan was wiping her hands clean of her flaky younger sister. The realization that she was twenty-eight and had no idea what she was good at—or what she should do with her life—hurt. She’d always been open to trying new things. But what if, instead of always being open to new ideas and new experiences, she should have been trying to buckle down and hone one particular craft or area of focus?

She’d always thought of her flexibility as a strength. Clearly, it had become a liability.

“Rob! Steve! Dinner’s ready, okay?” Megan called out to the boys, who were playing in the corner of the living room.

Suddenly, the small Craftsman house filled with the sound of little brother struggling with big brother. It reminded Poppy of more than a few arguments she and Megan had once had.

“Hey! No! It’s my sword,” Rob said.

Steve lunged at the toy. “Give it back.”

“Ugh. The dragon again.” Megan looked as over it as Poppy had felt when Mike had brought up his mother’s size-two wedding dress. And the spring wedding. And the five kids.

So many options for why she dumped him. In fact, she could have used a fire-breathing dragon out there to drive home her point. Where were all the good dragons when you needed them? They were probably as fictional as the idea of a good man.

Poppy grabbed a roll of aluminum foil as a grin overtook her face. She might not know how to handle weird dates or weird jobs or other weird attempts at adulting, but swords, dragons, and elementary schoolers? No sweat. “I’ve got this.”

“Thanks, Poppy.”

“Hey guys, what’s going on?”

“But Aunt Poppy…Steve won’t give me his sword.” Rob explained the situation with conviction. Life was tough when your little brother dogged your every move.

Steve didn’t care about his brother’s reasoning. “It’s not my fault you broke yours.”

Poppy paused, then looked around the room with an exaggerated manner. “Do you guys hear that?”

Instantly, the two boys paused. “Hear what?”

“It’s the dragon. Breathing.” Now that she had their attention, she improvised more of the story. “While you two fight over that sword, he’s getting closer. Now, you know what’s more important than a sword when you’re defending yourself against a rogue dragon?”

They were hooked. Poppy threw herself into selling this scenario to the boys with all the gusto of an Oscar-worthy performance.

“No.”

“A fireproof shield.”

“Oh…” The boys were united in their understanding of what they needed to conquer the dragon.

Calm had come to the kingdom. Poppy wanted to pat herself on the back, but the battle was not yet over.

“Throw me that pillow.” Poppy caught the blue square with one hand and began to wrap it in a length of tinfoil. “Now, if that dragon breathes on you, you are toast. You’re worse than toast. You’re burnt toast.”

Both of her nephews stared, wide-eyed. She could feel their appreciation for her story. After all of today’s craziness, it was a balm for her soul. Who knew that a fire-breathing dragon would be the best part of her day?

“Now go,” Poppy spoke with conviction to the pint-sized knights. “Defeat the dragon. Both of you.”

They took their orders seriously.

Steve held up the new shield atop their makeshift fort. “Ha. Take that. In your face, dragon!”

Rob brandished the sword. “We’ve gotcha now.”

Poppy couldn’t help but smile. Soon, the dragon would be slain. Too bad the utter mess her life seemed to have become couldn’t be handled in the same way. She’d give anything to solve her current problems with a sword and some tinfoil.

She needed a knight in shining armor. But fairy tales weren’t real. There was no knight riding into Seattle on a valiant steed named “Adulting,” who was going to charge into her world and make everything work out.

Megan watched the scene with a smile as Poppy walked back across the open area between the living room and the kitchen. “Well, you do know I’m not getting that pillow back now, right?”

Poppy would take her victories where she found them.

“A small price to pay for saving the kingdom from ruin,” she pointed out with a laugh in her voice. It felt good to shake off the day—and the idea that she needed her own hero. She could do this herself. She just had to figure out where her path led.

The boys ran toward the kitchen table with enthusiastic pride. “We did it!”

Steve high-fived his brother as they sat down. “We got him!”

“Yeah!” Poppy joined in their cheers. “That’s awesome.”

Megan caught Poppy’s eye with a knowing nod. “This—” She gestured to the boys and their foil-covered weapons. “This is something you’re really good at.”

The boys immediately focused on dinner, as though everything in the house had instantly returned back to business as usual. “This broccoli is really good, mom,” Rob said.

Steve echoed him with a simple sound of appreciation. “Mm-hmm.”

But Poppy smiled, knowing her sister’s words had changed everything. Maybe she could find her zen after all. Maybe all she needed was some time with children to turn her into a full-fledged adult.

Ryan Larson brushed off the knock at the door, followed by the sound of the doorbell. Whoever it was would just have to wait. It was probably just FedEx dropping off a package, anyway.

They could just leave it on the porch. He was on the phone with his lead developer who was on a business trip to Japan. This call from halfway around the world was one of the final keys to everything. It wouldn’t be long until he was presenting to the entire Yamoharo Global team, persuading them to buy his new app technology.

Once they did, the sky would be the limit.

Until then, nothing in heaven or on earth could be a distraction. Especially not the doorbell.

“Look, we’re getting five thousand downloads a day. And if we can land this, that number doubles. Yeah, I know. I hear what you’re saying. Well, I don’t think it’s that complicated. We just tell them who we are, you know? We’re a young, proven company. We’ve got apps that work. And this one has a great interface, it’s simple…exactly.”

Ryan paced across the front of his home office, oblivious to the light filtering through the windows or the sounds of the birds in the trees. He could feel it. One step closer to sealing the deal. “Yeah. And I just think we share the comments…I’ve got ‘em right here.”

Ryan dragged his finger across the touchpad mouse on his laptop and pulled up his email. He tapped the forward button and sent the summary brief with the feedback flying halfway around the world to the Land of the Rising Sun.

Suddenly he couldn’t keep his focus anymore. A woman in a lightweight brown jacket was jumping up and down and waving and flailing outside the window to his office. He lived in a popular neighborhood with lots of families and hustle and bustle. But a strange woman dressed in fall-appropriate layers and practically tap-dancing in his front yard was something he’d never seen before. “I’ve got to call you back.”

His colleague acknowledged receipt of the email. Ryan wrapped up the conversation. Through the window, he gestured for the woman to meet him at the front door.

Ryan opened the dark wooden door and a woman with loose brown curls and a pearly smile stood just in front of him.

“Can I help you?” he asked. He needed to get this over with so he could make a few more phone calls before the time difference between Seattle and Japan made it difficult to continue any of the day’s discussions. Sometimes, it seemed hard to work globally—especially without Laurie. He’d been able to work all day and all night before she got sick. Laurie ran the house, Ryan ran the business.

Together, they helped each other achieve their dreams. It had been the ideal partnership, and although it had been nearly four years since ovarian cancer stole her from the family they’d created together, he still felt a twinge of regret when he thought of what was missing from his life and the kids’ lives. Some days, it felt very lonely without a wife and mother to keep all the balls in the air and to fill the four walls around them with love.

“Oh, I’m Poppy Summerall. Temporarily for You—I made a business card and everything.”

She handed him a business card that looked like she’d made it on her home computer. It declared the name of her business to be Temporarily for You Nanny Services. There were clouds dotting the background of the card. He’d never seen anything quite like it.

But at least he now knew who the crazy dancing lady in the front yard was. He’d gotten so caught up in the call that he’d forgotten she was supposed to come by today. “Yes, you’re Megan’s sister.”

Megan had become a friend over the years. Their kids played together. Megan had brought Zoe and Zach home from school in a pinch when one nanny or another quit or Ryan needed to work late. She dished out practical, thoughtful mom advice without making him feel like a clueless dad.

Ryan trusted Megan. So, when she said that her sister Poppy would be perfect to take care of the kids, Ryan believed her.

“And you’re Ryan Larson,” Poppy said.

If he’d been oblivious to everything this afternoon except conversations with techie types, he wasn’t now. Poppy had an easy smile and a twinkle in her blue eyes.

She looked like someone the kids could warm up to. Eventually. Poor lady probably didn’t even know what she was in for. The kids had taken all of their recent nannies by surprise.

And there had been a string of them lately.

He took a deep breath and nodded, opening the door wide for her to enter. “Yeah, come on in.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you have any trouble finding the place?”

“No. I just looked for the only house on the block without Halloween decorations.”

Her observation brought back more memories of Laurie. Ryan had been so caught up in the presentation he needed to make in a few weeks that he’d put off everything having to do with the upcoming holiday. And now it was basically too late. Laurie never would have let that happen. Laurie had a way of making every holiday special.

“Yeah…yeah…Halloween was kind of my wife’s thing.” Ryan hoped the new nanny couldn’t hear the regret in his voice. He didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with this one. Goodness knows there had been enough wrong feet with the wrong nannies around here for a while.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Poppy apologized.

Ryan hadn’t intended for her to feel badly about his observation. He needed to change the conversation quickly and keep this moving forward. “No, no… It’s okay. It’s been almost four years now.” Ryan needed this nanny to work out. “Anyway…thank you for coming. My company is expanding one of our apps. It’s crunch time.”

“I can crunch!” Her voice squeaked up a few octaves. She reminded Ryan of a cheerleader on the sidelines of a college football game.

“Great—great.” Poppy’s enthusiasm set him at ease. There was just one more hurdle to clear. But it was the big one. “Well, let me introduce you.”

“Okay.”

Ryan walked to the base of the stairs and shouted upward at the kids. “Hey, guys—come and meet Poppy.”

“Do we have to?” Zoe’s skepticism echoed from the second floor.

“She’s your new nanny, so, yes.” Ryan’s jaw clenched. Why was his daughter being difficult?

Zoe’s stubborn streak didn’t go away. “We don’t want a new nanny.”

“Tell them I’m a mermaid,” Poppy whispered, leaning close to Ryan’s ear.

He caught a slight whiff of her perfume. He thought it might have been patchouli—which seemed fitting for someone named Poppy.

It felt ridiculous to tell the kids that their new nanny was a mythical creature. They were way too smart to believe that. But he didn’t have any better options, so he went with it as the kids stepped down to the staircase. “She’s a mermaid.”

After a pause that felt like it could be measured in years, not seconds, the kids came down the stairs. Zoe’s low, dark pigtails gave a defiant bounce as she screeched to a halt at the landing. Zach just barely cleared his older sister’s shoulder. He kept everything but his mop of blond hair tucked behind it, as though Zoe was not just a sibling, but a defensive fort.

“Hi.” Poppy stayed just behind Ryan as she gave a half-wave.

Zoe rolled her eyes. If Ryan didn’t know better, he’d swear his eleven-year-old fifth-grader had fully morphed into the junior high years right before his eyes. “I told you she’s not a real mermaid.”

“Ah, that’s Zoe.”

“Hi, Zoe.” The chipper sound of Poppy’s voice belied any inner turmoil she might have reasonably had after the first impression Zoe just dished out.

“Hello.” His little teen-in-training now sounded as flat as a puddle.

“And the boy hiding behind his big sister is Zach.” Ryan tried to read his son’s face, but it remained emotionless. Only the quirk at the far end of the left eyebrow betrayed his carefully stoic appearance.

Zach leaned over to Zoe as she whispered something behind a cupped hand. In spite of the cold shoulder she had to be feeling from the kids, Poppy forged ahead with the pleasantries.

“Hello, Zach. You know, I’ve got a big sister, too. Her kids go to your school.”

Without another word, the kids ran back up the stairs. Their behavior embarrassed Ryan. He knew they were just kids and that things had been awkward for so long. First, they’d lost their mother, and ever since, there’d been a constant stream of nannies. Poppy was just another face in a long line of temporary help brought in to manage the chaos.

But Poppy didn’t know that, and he feared that the bright woman with the eager grin and shoulder-length curls would start to plot how soon she could make an exit.

And when she did, that would upend everything. With the Yamoharo Global presentation coming up, he didn’t have time to find another nanny. He barely had time to make the introductions for this one.

Maybe if he laughed off their sullen reactions, she’d laugh them off too. “Ha ha. Sorry. They’ll warm right up to you.”

“That’s okay. They must have really liked their last nanny.”

“Oh, that’s a long story…” Bless her for thinking it was that simple. Fortunately, Ryan’s phone rang before he had a chance to dig that hole and dive face-first into it. Poppy did not need to know the truth of Zach and Zoe’s feelings about Barbara Lewis, the last nanny. He still remained grateful that the 911 dispatcher on duty that evening had a sense of humor. The nanny didn’t, but under the circumstances, that was understandable.

He saw the call was from Jean, his assistant. Ryan didn’t even have to hear any of her words to know he was going to be late for his next meeting. “I’m on my way.”

Ryan didn’t really want to just throw Poppy to the wolves—kids, he corrected himself—but nannying was her job. And he had more than enough of his own job to worry about at this moment. Surely, Poppy would be fine with the kids. They just needed to get used to her. He slid his phone into his left pocket. “Okay, we good to go?”

“Yeah. All nannied up!” Once again, Poppy reminded him of a cheerleader. Maybe this would be okay. His kids needed some cheer in their lives.

Honestly, it would have to be okay. He didn’t have any time between now and the presentation at the end of the month to solve another nanny or child crisis. He just needed to get to the office, hope for the best, and let Poppy and the kids sort out Poppy-and-the-kids kinds of things.

“Great. I don’t usually work Sundays but this is a crazy week, so…” Ryan opened the hall closet and grabbed out his briefcase and a light jacket. “Emergency numbers are on the fridge. Here are these…” He handed Poppy a set of house keys and a credit card to use for activities.

Then, he looked around and lowered his voice. He might be leaving the Poppy-and-the-kids kinds of things to Poppy and the kids, but he did know one covert weapon that would definitely help Poppy in the process. “And the secret password is ‘pumpkinhead’…for now.”

“Got it,” Poppy said, with an obviously false confidence which confirmed to his ears that she had no idea what he was talking about. It didn’t matter—he had to go. He’d just have to let her figure it out.

“Have a good one.” Ryan hoped that his sentiment wasn’t just a false hope.

She took off her jacket and tossed it over the top of the newel post. “Yeah, you too.”

“Thanks.” Ryan took off for the front door before the kids could realize he was leaving. Once again, his phone started to ring. He reached in his pocket and started to answer out of habit without even thinking about who was on the other end of the line or what he was saying. “Hello…yes, this is—”

He just needed to make it to the end of the month. Right now, everything was a blur.

Well, everything except the twinkle in Poppy Summerall’s blue eyes when she smiled.

Ryan could see that in his mind’s eye very clearly.