Читать книгу The Nanny Solution - Teresa Hill - Страница 11

Audrey woke early to messy, doggy kisses, opened her eyes and found herself stretched out on the sofa, the dog next to her licking her face.

“Ugh,” she groaned, having slept on her side on a couch that wasn’t exactly uncomfortable but just not so great on her neck.

Tink gave his little cry, then grinned at her, practically bouncing with excitement as he looked at her as if to say, You‘re still here!

Audrey sighed and looked outside to see that it was daylight, but just barely.

“I guess we might as well start our day,” she told Tink. “Give me just a minute and we’ll go running. I promise.”

He slipped off the couch and bounded for the door. She let him out so he could take care of his business, then quickly brushed her teeth, put on her sweats and running shoes and headed for the door.

Tink was waiting for her on the other side of it, grinning like crazy.

“Okay,” Audrey said. “Let’s find out what it takes to wear you out.”

He danced along beside her as she went down the stairs, nearly tripping her twice because he was staying so close, then was beside himself with excitement while she struggled to get his regular collar with the receiver for the electronic fence off and put on a leash and collar they’d use for their run.

He was really puzzled by Audrey’s stretching routine, watching every move with his head cocked to the right, then the left, as if he was trying to understand. She bent over and found him sniffing her hair and trying to lick her face, until she laughed out loud and gently pushed him away.

He came right back.

“Okay, we have a lot to work on,” she told him, mentally making a list. “First, we’re going to run.”

She took off at an easy jog, down the street that took her farther into Simon’s neighborhood, not nearly brave enough to step back into her own. It was cool but not cold with the sun shining down through the trees. They passed a few other joggers, a few other dogs.

Tink, looking as if he could run all day, was just thrilled to be out.

Audrey kept going, waiting for that feeling. People called it a runner’s high, but Audrey didn’t need a high. She wanted to get to the point where she wasn’t thinking about anything at all. To where the need to breathe—and the sound of her own heart thumping strongly, the breeze on her face and the rhythm of her feet hitting the sidewalk—was simply all there was.

It was like reaching a place in her head that no one else could get to, a place where she was perfectly safe from everything, even her own thoughts, her doubts, her fears.

Some people might call it an emptiness and not understand.

But it wasn’t. It was peace.

If she ran far enough and got tired enough, she could finally be at peace.

She found it that morning and didn’t want to let it go, so she ran some more, ran until she got a nasty cramp and had to stop. She collapsed on a bench in front of the ice cream store, Tink limping on the sidewalk at her feet, tongue lolling out, his breathing as fast as hers. Audrey grabbed her calf, groaning as she tried to stretch it without standing up, because her other leg felt like jelly. Tink roused himself enough to make it to the water dish and start lapping, making a huge mess in his enthusiasm for it.

People were starting to make it out onto the streets now. A couple of kids walking to school stopped to pet Tink. Audrey thought she saw a woman she knew from the PTA at Andie’s school but couldn’t tell for sure.

Her cramp finally easing, she stood up gingerly to test it out, see if they could continue on now, then winced as she took a few steps.

“We really outdid ourselves this morning,” she told Tink, who stretched out on the sidewalk looking as if he could happily go to sleep right where he was.

She’d worn a pedometer to keep track of their mileage but hadn’t stopped to look at it until she’d already gone too far.

“I think we’ll have to limp home,” she told the dog. “So, I hope you’re as tired as I am.”

He got wearily to his feet, as if to show that he was.

Trying not to make the muscles in her leg any madder than they already were, she moved slowly and hadn’t gone fifty feet when a car, an old Buick, pulled to the curb beside her and stopped.

A teenage boy, one of three in the car, got out.

Andie’s friend, Jake, Audrey realized.

“Mrs. Graham? Are you all right?”

“Just a cramp, Jake. We’ll be fine.”

He hesitated, then said, “You’re really living around here?”

“Yes, I am,” she said.

“You want to get in? We could make room and take you home.”

“Jake,” the driver called out. “We’ve got to get to school.”

“It’s just a few blocks. We have time,” he told his friend, then looked back at Audrey. “Really. We do.”

She suspected he wanted to talk to her more than anything else and agreed. Jake climbed into the backseat, and she got in front with the dog beside her, sitting on the floor by her feet. Jake introduced her as Andie’s mother, which had his friend, the driver, doing a double take but saying nothing. Audrey gave him directions and thanked them all for the ride.

Jake whistled as they pulled into the driveway of Simon Collier’s house. “Wow. You live here?”

“I’m working here,” Audrey told him as she got out of the car.

Jake got out, too, saying, “She’s really upset that you’re back.”

“I know. I’m sorry about that, but I have to try to make things right between us, Jake.”

He nodded. “I don’t know if she’ll forgive you or not, but…she’s really not very happy living with her father and his girlfriend.”

“I didn’t think she would be,” Audrey said. “But thank you for telling me and for being her friend. And I’m really sorry about all the trouble I caused for you last fall. I had no right to draw you into my mess.”

She’d gotten drunk at a party one night and made a huge scene. Andie, in trying to get her home, called Jake to come and get them both. Jake, who hadn’t even had a license back then, ended up wrecking his uncle’s car early that morning while trying to get an unconscious Audrey to the hospital. Audrey still considered it a miracle none of them had been seriously hurt in the accident.

“My uncle says I made my own choices, and they were all bad. Not in trying to help Andie, but in understanding what I could and couldn’t do. Understanding when I needed help myself.”

“But I’m the one whose behavior put you in a position to have to make those choices that got you into trouble. And for that, I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “I know. We got your letter.”

“Well,” Audrey said. “Thanks for the ride. If you or Andie needs anything, I’m living right there, above the garage. You can come by anytime.”

Not that she thought he would. Still, she was here. She wasn’t leaving.

Jake got in the car and Audrey watched them drive off; then, with her leg muscles still cramped tight, she limped across the driveway toward her apartment.

Audrey was sitting under a tree in the front yard, studying the house, the placement of the big trees and shrubs, the existing planting beds, the fence to one side that belonged to the neighbors, thinking of what to do with what was already there and what to add to it, when her phone rang.

Tink roused himself from his spot sprawled out in the grass beside her, but only long enough to lift his head, see that it was nothing but her cell phone ringing, then gave a contented, tired groan and sank back down into the grass.

Audrey was still laughing at him for how tired and complacent he’d been today, since their run, when she picked up the phone and said, “Hello.”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually enjoying this job,” Simon Collier asked, with astonishment in his voice.

She felt a little tickle of something run through her.

Pleasure?

At the sound of his voice?

Surely not.

Please, not.

“Is it impossible for you to believe I could be enjoying myself?” she asked, hoping that little fizzle of something didn’t come through in her voice.

“I would think it’s at least highly improbable, given the tasks involved. Namely, dealing with a certain unruly creature,” he said.

“I was laughing at the dog,” she told him.

“That I can believe. I think it has the IQ of a shrub.”

No way Audrey was going to risk another conversation with him about the dog’s intelligence and their battle for control. She feared she’d come too close to insulting Simon on that topic already.

“I was laughing because he’s funny and because he’s been good all day,” she explained.

“Impossible. What did you do, drug him? Because I’ve heard there are vets who are willing to prescribe things like that, to certain highly troubled canines. I considered trying to find one.”

“Don’t you dare even think of drugging this dog,” she said, rolling her eyes, knowing he was baiting her and still rising to it.

“So, what kind of miracle did you perform to make him…good?”

“I took him for a run this morning and wore him out,” she said. “He’s been too tired to do much of anything since then.”

“I find that very difficult to believe,” Simon insisted, then was silent as Audrey heard an announcement of a plane boarding in the background. “That’s my flight. I’ll need to go. I just wanted to check in with you and make sure you didn’t hurt yourself. Or that the dog didn’t hurt you.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Ms. Bee said you could hardly walk this morning when you got back to the house after exercising him. That you had to get a ride back?”

“Oh, it was nothing. I got a little carried away, and we ran too far. But it was me, not Tink, who did it. I just had a cramp.”

“You’re sure. Because I won’t have that dog hurting anyone—”

So, he was worried about her? Or just looking for an excuse to get rid of the dog?

“Simon, he’s just a little rambunctious. That’s all. Not a bad dog. And he’s smart, but he’s not the one who knows how far I can run without cramping up or the one who should keep track of how far we’ve gone. I am.”

“All right. If you say so.”

“I do.”

“So, how’s my yard?”

“Tink and I are studying it as we speak. Or actually, he’s lying in the grass half asleep and I’m studying the yard. It looks as if the trees haven’t been trimmed in years—”

“You want to cut down those huge trees? I like my trees. Big, lush, green, remember? That’s what I want. Surely you can see that the trees are big, lush and green.”

“Yes, I see that. But they also have some dead branches in them, and some are dangling over the house. You would be greatly inconvenienced if one of those limbs fell through your roof one day.”

“All right. Yes. You’re right. Just don’t cut them down.”

“I just want them shaped up, like a pretty, big, frame of greenery around the house and the yard.”

“All right. Do it.”

“It means a lot of noise and disruption. Crew of workers, a big truck, limbs being cut and falling to the ground. Limbs being ground up into mulch.”

“Then have it done while I’m not there,” he said. “Just check with Ms. Bee. She always has my schedule.”

“All right,” she assured him.

“And take care of yourself,” he said, almost like he was concerned.

“I will.” Then, without really thinking, she added, “See you Friday.”

As if she was looking forward to it or something. Audrey winced.

He didn’t seem to pay any attention, just said goodbye and hung up.

He’d be home on Friday.

She would not look forward to it, and she would not care.

Simon got to the gate and found out that despite the announcement he’d heard only moments before, his plane was not boarding. How annoying.

Traveling had only gotten worse in the past few years, but this trip had seemed particularly irksome. Delay after delay. Frustration on top of frustration. He found himself just wanting to be at his own office in the city and at his own home, rather than forced to wait to be allowed to board a plane or to take off on a runway or to get into a hotel room.

His phone rang, and he looked at the Caller ID display.

Ms. Bee.

He clicked the phone to answer. “Yes, Ms. Bee.”

“Now she’s just sitting there in the grass in the front yard, staring at everything. Her and that animal.”

Simon wished he was there to see it, the dog miraculously still and quiet, lounging in the grass, and Audrey, probably sitting cross-legged in the shade of one of his enormous trees she planned to tame, bits of sunshine filtering through the new spring leaves. And Ms. Bee, spying on her through one of the front windows, a scowl on Ms. Bee’s face.

He had a feeling he’d enjoy the sight.

“What’s wrong with that? She’s not allowed to sit in the grass?”

“It’s just…odd. Did you ever find out exactly what she did to be taken in by that criminal-loving woman you like so much?”

“Criminal-loving?” Simon laughed. Ms. Bee had a talent for making people she disapproved of sound positively evil, and while she’d never admit it to his face, she was highly protective of Simon and especially of Peyton. “You’ve known Marion for years. And in all those years, I think she’s had only one lover who could properly be classified a criminal, and even then he didn’t commit a felony, just a few misdemeanors.”

“Marion Givens has a talent for finding trouble, and you know it. And now she’s gone and convinced you to hire a woman who seems to be casing your house—”

“Casing the joint? You think she’s going to rob us?”

“It looks that way,” Ms. Bee claimed.

“She’s planning to have some trees trimmed, then landscape the yard, remember? Surely you understand how reasonable it seems—no, necessary—to thoroughly study the yard first. We want her to do a proper job, after all.”

Ms. Bee gave a huff to show she still disapproved, then said, “I think she’s bewitched that animal.”

At which point, Simon threw his head back and laughed.

“I don’t see any other explanation for how he’s behaving.”

“You believe in witchcraft, Ms. Bee?”

“Of course not, you wretched man. You know what I mean. She couldn’t just snap her fingers and make him behave, although that’s exactly what he’s been doing since she got here. So how would you explain it?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care, as long as it works.”

“Well, I don’t trust that woman,” Ms. Bee said. “And I can’t believe you do, either.”

“What, are you afraid she’s going to bewitch me, too?” Simon asked.

As if any woman could after his first experience with matrimony.

Although, he was afraid he’d like to see Audrey try to bewitch him. Simon shook his head, thinking he could get himself into serious trouble here.

“You like her,” Ms. Bee said accusingly, then launched into a condemnation of the entire male species and their lack of reasoning and willpower where a pretty woman was concerned.

More mother and sometimes boss than anything else, she was the only woman in the world who’d dare talk to Simon that way.

“I’ll try to keep my head screwed on tight in all my dealings with Audrey. I promise.”

“And I’m going to keep my eye on her,” Ms. Bee promised.

“Fair enough,” Simon said, still amused when he hung up the phone.

Surely he didn’t need Ms. Bee’s protection.

Surely he wasn’t that far gone.

He’d had only one brief encounter with Audrey, over a job and the dog.

He couldn’t be smitten yet, and besides he was not a man who became smitten. He was someone she should be half scared to even talk to, just because he had a reputation for being that way in business. It saved him from so much useless chitchat, saved him so much time and often boredom.

And yet he’d called Audrey at the first excuse he was given, and here he was, anxious to be home rather than out here doing his job, expanding his empire and his already impressive bank account. The way he kept score on his life, because…

Well, because there was no other way to keep score, nothing else really in his life except Peyton.

He wondered how most people kept score.

How did Peyton?

How would Audrey?

He was sure it wasn’t a bank account with either one of them.

He endured another thirty-six mostly unproductive hours on the road and then said to hell with it and came home a day early.

Because he wasn’t getting anything done.

Not for any other reason.

He pulled into the driveway sometime after midnight and left the car outside on the far side of the garage, not wanting to wake Audrey or, more likely, the dog, who would then wake Audrey. He knew from Ms. Bee’s spying reports either that the dog got Audrey up at the crack of dawn or that Audrey got up then and the dog appreciated it, ready to run for a few miles with her.

Either way, they didn’t need to be awakened at this hour.

He slipped into the house, took a quick shower and crawled into bed, grateful that it was his own, thinking he might actually sleep in the next day. It wasn’t as if the world would come to an end if he did, and it would probably save him from biting someone’s head off from lack of sleep.

He punched his pillow a few times, getting it just right, closed his eyes and dropped off in seconds.

And woke to…

It sounded like a bomb dropped on top of his house!

Simon shot upright in bed, heart pounding.

Surely he’d imagined that.

Because the house was still standing.

Nothing was falling on his head. He didn’t hear anything, in fact.

Shaking his head to try to clear it, he eased back down and had nearly dropped back off to sleep when he heard a huge crash right outside his window.

“What the hell?” he muttered, grabbing the pajama bottoms he kept in his bedside table for those nights when Peyton was here.

He stepped into them as he ran for the stairs and then the front door.

Who in the world would bomb Highland Park?

Simon came roaring out of the house to find a bunch of guys in hard hats, a couple of huge, roaring machines and his yard certainly looking as if it had been bombed, with tree branches everywhere. Not quite six-thirty in the damned morning, and someone had bombed his yard!

He stalked toward the nearest guy in a hard hat, ready to raise hell, when he heard Audrey shouting his name, saw her coming at him at a dead-run. She grabbed him hard and tugged him back the way she’d come. He could see her lips moving but couldn’t quite tell what she was saying.

“What in holy hell is going on?” he roared. He’d have liked to say something much worse but was trying to clean up his language because of Peyton.

“Get over here!” Audrey screamed.

He heard it again, that bombing sound, as a huge limb crashed to the ground behind him, just missing him. He turned around and just looked at it, mouth hanging open. They’d nearly killed him in his own front yard!

“What the hell are they doing dropping limbs like that when there are people around?”

“They’re trimming your trees,” she yelled back. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here! It’s my house! I thought somebody had started bombing the neighborhood!”

“Bomb the neighborhood?” she repeated, making it sound absolutely ridiculous, which he knew it likely was. Still…

“That’s what it sounded like when it woke me up,” he said, still yelling. “They could have killed me!”

“I know. I saw. I’m the one who got you out of the way,” Audrey said.

One of the hard hat guys came running over to them then, looking as if someone had taken a few years off his life.

“What the hell is going on?” he yelled at Audrey.

Simon stepped in, intending to stop that right there. He might raise his voice every now and then, but he wasn’t going to stand by while anybody else talked to her that way and if that made him a hypocrite, well…fine!

Audrey must have known what was coming, because she stepped between them and put up a hand to stop Simon from getting any closer.

The next thing he knew, she had her palm pressed flat against his bare chest.

And that stopped him cold.