Falling for the Nanny (13 page)

 

Sabrina was entitled to a supervised visit on her daughter's birthday, so that didn't violate the custody agreement. Still, it meant matters were likely to come to a head quickly.

Patty summarized her observations on these new developments and emailed the report to Mike. He could confirm with Manhattan police whether there'd been a break-in, and might even be able to determine exactly when Sabrina was scheduled to arrive. Patty sent a copy to Alec, with a matter-of-fact recommendation that he keep the police updated about his ex-wife's activities.

Have I overlooked anything?
She was glad Mike would be reviewing her observations, because regardless of her opinion of Alec, she'd never let anything hurt his little girl.

Or him.

No matter how well they prepared, though, Patty had to be ready to adjust to events on the fly. Especially on Saturday at the party. There'd be a lot of people coming and going: children, parents, pizza deliverers. Mike planned to restrict access to a single door, while Patty would stick close to Fiona, but this wasn't a presidential visit complete with Secret Service. Had there been a better-defined threat, or indications that Sabrina had hired a professional, Mike would have recommended augmenting the staff. Instead, there'd be just the two of them.

Plus Alec, of course. Patty's gut squeezed as she remembered the affection in his dark eyes during Fiona's bedtime session. With the three of them gathered together, they'd almost felt like a family.

For a moment, she'd actually wanted that. The longing had sprung up unbidden, after years of believing she wasn't suited for domestic life. A husband, children. She'd never believed she could make a go of that stuff, not with her background.

Or had the prospect seemed empty because no man could compare to the idealized Alec of her memory? The fellow who'd been nothing but a liar, after all.

Perhaps now she could get past that. Now that she was free of her illusions.

Wishing she hadn't wasted the ingredients for a second s'more on her deceitful old friend, Patty poked through the list of movies on her laptop and picked one of the
Rocky
films. Didn't matter which one, as long as it involved punching somebody's lights out and winning big.

Alec had hoped that a good night's sleep would soften Patty's reaction to his confession. He, for one, barely slept, and awoke with the sense that someone had sandpapered his skin.

In the kitchen, he found her already showered and dressed in jeans and a blouse, serving Fiona cereal at the counter. They'd forgotten to brush out the little girl's hair last night, Alec noted. Light brown wisps had pulled free from the braid, along with several longer strands.

After kissing his daughter, he turned to Patty. “Good morning.” He watched her reaction, hoping for some hint of encouragement.

“Morning.” The word came out crisp and impersonal. “Did you receive my report? I emailed it last night.”

“I did,” he confirmed, and popped two slices of bread in the toaster. “Good job.”

Fiona jostled her bowl, sending milk spattering onto the counter. “Oops.” Her eyes rounded guiltily.

Alec was about to reach for the sponge when Patty tore off a paper towel and handed it to her charge. Then she stood there with arms folded.

“You want me to clean it up?” Fiona asked in surprise.

“You made the mess. You're old enough to clean it up.”

“Okay.” Solemnly, the little girl wadded the towel and mopped the table clean.

Alec was impressed. “You make a good nanny. If a bit unconventional.”

“Kids need to own their lives. That means making decisions and dealing with the consequences. Appropriately for their age,” Patty added. “That's what I learned being raised by a military man.”

“I always figured the Sergeant would have liked me better if I'd saluted.” Alec hadn't exactly felt antagonism from Patty's grandfather, but the man had displayed about as much welcome as he would to a broken axle at his garage. “Aren't you eating?”

“Already had a certain item you didn't fix for yourself last night.” She refrained from mentioning in front of Fiona that she'd eaten a chocolate bar, marshmallows and graham crackers for breakfast. Candy bars morning, night and no doubt noon, as well.

“There is something to be said for nutrition,” he observed drily as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “By the way, thanks for making this.”

“You're low on filters.”

He nearly told her that grocery shopping was her job, when he remembered it wasn't. “I'll pick some up. So, what're you planning to do today?”

“I plan to keep Fiona safe,” Patty said.

“Don't you have some activities in mind?”

“I'm not actually a nanny,” she reminded him.

“You could fix my hair,” Fiona chirped.

“What's wrong with it?” Patty glanced at the girl's braid. “Yeah, looks a little messy. We should chop that off.”

“Yay!”

Alec stopped in the middle of buttering his toast. “You
like
the idea?”

“I hate braiding my hair,” Fiona informed him. “I want to look like Patty.”

This could be a problem, Alec reflected as he weighed how to respond. Not the hair per se, but this eagerness to model herself after someone who didn't intend to stay around very long. With Tatum's abdication, Fiona was seizing on the nearest mother substitute—aside from Darlene, since apparently grandmothers didn't hold quite the same appeal. What was going to happen when guard duty ended?

He knew what he'd like to see happen. But after last night, any renewed friendship seemed a distant possibility.

“Well?” demanded Fiona.

He hadn't meant to keep her waiting. “You can have your hair done as a birthday treat. Patty, would you mind setting that up?”

“I don't advise visiting a salon.” Her voice drifted back from where she'd stuck her head in the fridge. “Too many people, too hard to control the situation. Are you saving this pudding for anything?”

“You can't eat pudding for breakfast!” Fiona cried.

“How about for a snack?”

“If you don't eat right, you'll get sick.” His daughter's mouth pursed. “Your bones will crumble. Your hair will fall out and you'll be bald.”

“Where did you hear that?” Alec was amazed at the things that came out of this little girl's mouth.

“Tatum told me.” Earnestly, she added, “Well, I made up some of it. But it's probably true.”

From the depths of the refrigerator, Patty emerged wielding a stick of celery. “If I eat this, will my bones get strong?”

Fiona nodded.

“Okay, then.” She crunched into it. “Mmm. I feel tougher already.”

Alec refrained from pointing out that celery wasn't a major source of calcium. Anything that persuaded Patty to eat a vegetable ought to be encouraged.

He wished he could hang around to see who ended up nannying whom, but he had work to do. “Be careful. Call me if you need me.” He took his dishes to the sink, kissed his daughter and left, taking care to bolt the door.

 

W
HAT WAS SHE GOING TO DO
for an entire day with a little girl? The kid wasn't old enough to go to the shooting range or, from a practical standpoint, to play pool, given that she'd have to stand on a chair to reach the table. Besides, you didn't take a client home with you.

The hair-salon idea was beginning to sound tempting. Especially after Patty learned from Mike that there
had
been a police report filed about the break-in at Eduardo's penthouse. This meant Sabrina truly might not have made the last threatening call.

Of course, someone had, and Patty refused to write it off as a prank. Which left her with an increasingly restive four-going-on-five-year-old and the challenge of protecting without smothering her.

Patty mulled the options. Being in public exposed them to attack. Staying put made them predictable as targets. Then there remained the possibility that no one was after Fiona and they'd self-destruct from sheer boredom. Besides, if Darlene could accompany them, to help stand watch, they should be safe enough at a beauty parlor.

After making sure Darlene was home, they went downstairs, where they found the smaller condo stuffed with packages of party decorations and medical supplies. Rosita, who'd stopped by the supermarket on her way to work, was unloading groceries in the kitchen.

“I'd love to go to the hairdresser with you, but my ankle's hurting again,” Darlene said wistfully from the couch, where she sat distributing small toys among goody bags for tomor
row's little guests. “I don't think of myself as old, but my body doesn't heal like it used to.”

“She should eat more celery, right, Fi?” Patty asked.

“And soup,” the little girl said, hugging her grandmother. “Salad's good, except for the bitter stuff.”

“I hate the bitter stuff, too.” Her grandmother smiled. “We should all go out for lunch to a place with a salad bar. Not today, though, and obviously tomorrow's taken. How about Sunday? I'd like to get to know you better,” she said to Patty.

“Sure. Thanks.” Patty wasn't sure who or what to credit for this détente with Darlene, but she was grateful for it. She'd spent too many years blaming the older woman for something that hadn't been her fault.

“Now I have a suggestion about—

“Yes, Rosita?” Darlene glanced at the housekeeper, who stood with a couple of cake-mix boxes in hand.

“Fiona needs to pick which I bake tomorrow.” To Patty, the woman explained, “Mrs. Denny ask me to buy two flavors.”

“Wow! Chocolate
and
lemon!” The little girl ran to examine the packages. “What kind of frosting?”

“Come and I'll show you.” The gray-haired woman led her to the open kitchen, far enough away to be nearly out of earshot.

“Rosita's a vast improvement over Marla's other relatives,” Darlene said quietly. “She's even agreed to come in tomorrow morning to bake and decorate.”

Good, because when it came to ovens, Patty was still trying to figure out why they bothered with that confusing preheat option. “Great. You mentioned a suggestion?”

“Kate Franco used to be my hairdresser over at the My Fair Lady Salon. I miss her, now that she's married to that lawyer and staying home with the baby.” The older woman's birdlike
hands darted from one sack to the other, topping them off with miniature cars. “In fact, her son Brady is coming to the party tomorrow. I'll bet she'd cut Fiona's hair at her house, if I asked. How about it?”

Patty liked Leo's sister-in-law, and the outing sounded like a good compromise from a safety versus going-out-of-our-minds standpoint. “Super. It has my stamp of approval.”

Darlene folded her hands in her lap. “Before I call, there's something else I'd like to say while Fiona's out of the room.”

“Uh, sure.” Patty eyed her warily. When people requested a private conversation, that usually meant they had something to unload.

“I used to be a terrible snob.” Since Darlene made it a simple declaration of fact, Patty didn't argue. “You may recall that I was a college English instructor, and Howard was an anesthesiologist. We expected our son to be a high-achiever, academically speaking. When he brought you around, well, you didn't fit into our expectations.”

Patty didn't take offense at this obvious truth. “Yeah, I wasn't exactly a parent's dream come true.”

“Some parents ought to take a closer look at their dreams.” The older woman leaned forward and patted Patty's hand. “Sabrina impressed us. She was glamorous, educated, sophisticated and a complete poison pill. We should have appreciated what a gem you were. A diamond in the rough. Patty, I'm sorry I underestimated you.”

“That's okay.” This honest disclosure called for a frank response. “I wasn't crazy about you, either.”

Darlene burst out laughing. “You're priceless!”

“I like you better now,” Patty admitted.

“I like you better now, too, and I'm grateful that you're available to watch over my granddaughter.” She picked up the phone. “On that note, I'll call Kate.”

Tony's wife readily agreed, and a few minutes later, Patty found herself piloting her car, with a buoyant Fiona alongside her, toward the Francos' bluffside home. While the little girl chattered about how she'd persuaded Rosita to bake cupcakes in both flavors, Patty watched the mirrors and kept an eye out for anyone following them or lurking ahead, ready to box them in. Traffic proved light, no one blocked their path, and they pulled safely into the drive of the Mediterranean-style home.

What a gorgeous place,
Patty reflected as the short, radiant Mrs. Franco greeted them and led them through the house. Sunlight bathed the large rooms and stylish but comfortable furniture. Patty especially liked the curving front staircase and large bay window in the sunroom, but the best part was the covered patio and reflecting pool landscaped with rocks and ferns. An outdoor kitchen made the backyard absolutely perfect.

Kate indicated a chair she'd prepared with extra cushions, beside a table where she'd placed a plastic hairstyling cape and a set of scissors and hair clippers. “There's hardly any breeze today, so I thought it would be fun to sit outside. It's easier to clean up the hair, too,” she said as she transferred her six-month-old daughter from her hip into a playpen.

Fiona climbed onto the cushions. “Where's Brady?”

“In kindergarten until noon. He'll be sorry he missed seeing you, Fiona. He can hardly wait till your party. What fun, to bring his favorite stuffed animals!” Kate covered her in the cape and fastened the Velcro at the back.

“Should be quite a kick. 'Scuse me a minute. Doing my guard duty.” Patty had heard Darlene on the phone, explaining about Sabrina and the precautions they were taking. Besides, while it might be easy to pretend to strangers that Patty was a nanny, Kate knew all about her background.

So, while her hostess set to work on Fiona's hair, she paced
around the yard. Just like at the condo development, the bluff made the place hard to access from behind. At either side, bushes and ferns obscured the fences. Peering through them, she took in the well-kept yards of the neighbors. No one stirring at the moment.

Patty returned to find Kate brushing out the little girl's hair. “A short bob would be easy to maintain,” the hairdresser advised.

“I want to look like Patty.” Fiona indicated Patty's chin-length cut.

“Her hair's straight. Yours has more curl, so they wouldn't look the same,” Kate pointed out. “I've got another idea. Why don't I give you both short haircuts?”

Patty thought this over for about ten seconds. She never changed her hairstyle because she had no idea what to change it to, but here she had an expert volunteering. “Whatever you think will look good. I don't mind if it's prettier on Fiona than on me.”

“Okay with you?” Kate asked Fiona.

“Yeah!”

As Kate gently sliced away Fiona's long hair, Patty couldn't help contrasting this luxurious home with the small, cozy cottage where Kate had previously lived. Patty and Leo had visited it once to write up a report about a troubled teenage girl Kate had been helping.

“A person could sure get used to a place like this,” Patty said. “I mean, maybe not me personally, but it's fun to visit.”

“I still feel a little like an imposter. Tony and I have been married only for three months, you know.” Kate murmured a few complimentary words to Fiona before picking up the subject again. “After my first husband died, Brady and I got by on a very tight budget. When I agreed to be a surrogate
mom, and Esther brought me here to help her plan the nursery, it was like visiting an alien dimension.”

Patty had heard the story from Leo, complete with sarcastic commentary about his brother's self-centered first wife. Ambitious and hard-driven, Esther had responded to her infertility by hiring another woman to bear their child—actually, Tony and Kate's, since Esther had suffered ovarian failure. All very well, except that partway through the pregnancy, Esther had decided to accept a prestigious job offer in Washington, D.C., abandoning her husband and their baby-to-be for the glamorous social life of a single woman on the rise.