WHEN WE WALKED into Moe’s, Veronica was greeted like a celebrity.
Gus, my dad’s old friend, and grumpy Larry, who owned the barber shop, were on their way out, and we crossed paths just inside the door.
“Veronica!” Gus exclaimed with a grin on his face. “You’re back!”
“I’m back. Hi, Gus.” Then she smiled at the usually cantankerous barber. “Hi, Larry.”
The old curmudgeon actually blushed. “Hi, Veronica.”
“Hey!” Ari, who’d been pouring coffee for someone at the counter, set down her pot and came running over to envelop her in a hug, like they were long-lost friends. “You’re still here!”
“I’m still here,” Veronica said with a laugh. “For the moment.”
“I’m so glad it worked out with the job.” Ari smiled from me to the kids to Veronica again.
“Oh.” Veronica’s cheeks went pink. “Actually, I’m not staying in town.”
“We just came in for breakfast,” I said, feeling like an asshole again for not hiring her.
“But what about the job?” Gus persisted.
Veronica glanced at me. “It didn’t work out.”
“You didn’t hire her?” Larry turned to me, his face arranged in its usual get-off-my-lawn expression. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” I looked past him to Ari. “Can we get a table please?”
“Sure thing, Austin. Right this way.”
We followed her to the back of the diner and slid into opposite sides of an empty booth. Owen got in next to Veronica, and Adelaide pouted. “I want to sit by Veronica!”
Her brother shrugged. “I got here first.”
“Because you pushed me out of the way. Dad, Owen pushed me.”
“Enough.” I looked at my daughter. “Now sit down.”
“Fine.” Looking mad about it, Adelaide flopped into the booth and crossed her arms, like sitting next to me was a punishment.
“Maybe you could take turns,” Veronica suggested. “Owen can sit on this side while we wait, and then you can switch when the food comes? Like musical chairs.”
The twins looked at each other and nodded. “Okay,” Owen said. “Dad, can we have some money for the jukebox?”
“What was the point of the argument about where you’re sitting if you’re just getting up to leave?” I griped, but I reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out a handful of quarters. “And what do you want to eat?”
“Chocolate chip pancakes,” said Owen, sliding out of the booth.
“French toast.” Adelaide took the quarters from me and followed her brother to the corner of the diner where the jukebox sat.
“Now they’ll argue about which songs to play,” I said moodily. “And who gets to choose the first one.”
Veronica laughed. “I hope you gave them an even number of quarters.”
Ari approached with menus and a coffee pot. “Coffee, you two?”
“Yes, please.” Veronica turned over the plain white mug on the placemat in front of her.
“Can I have almond milk please?” I asked.
“Sure thing. Give me one sec.” Ari poured two cups of coffee and left the menus, but since I knew everything on it by heart—not much changed from year to year in Cherry Tree Harbor, and the menu at Moe’s was no exception—I covertly studied Veronica instead. She licked her bottom lip as she read the menu.
She was so fucking pretty. Would it be so bad having her across the table from me all summer? The kids liked her. My brother and sister liked her. Even the town grump liked her.
And she was so down on her luck—I understood that. She needed a break. I could give her one, and she’d be helping me out too.
It would only be for eight weeks, since I’d taken the last two weeks of August off for vacation. I could resist temptation for eight weeks and do a good thing, couldn’t I?
Ari returned with the almond milk and took our orders, and when we were alone again, I leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Veronica, I’ve been thinking. Maybe—”
“Oh, no.” She was looking at her phone.
“What is it?”
“My phone. I think it’s been shut off.” She handed it to me, and sure enough, it was completely dead.
“You charged it last night?”
“Yes. Mabel left me an extra charger and it was plugged in all night. When we left your house, it was at one hundred percent. It’s Neil—he must have cut service to my number.”
“Seriously? He controlled your phone?”
She nodded tearfully. “He’s punishing me.”
I wanted to show up on this guy’s doorstep and fucking punch his rich-ass lights out. “Okay, that’s it. You’re hired.”
“Huh?”
“You’re not going back to Chicago or anywhere near that apartment he owns. You’re staying here.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can. You are.” My jaw ticked. “It’s final.”
“I don’t need to be rescued, Austin.” She shook her head. “And I’m not trading one bully for another one.”
“Sorry.” I took the edge off my tone and eased up on the commands. “I didn’t mean to order you around. I just don’t like the idea of sending you alone back to Chicago to face him.”
“I’m not afraid of him.” Her blue eyes were bright and clear, her chin lifted.
“I believe you. But I’d still like you to stay.”
“What about clothes?”
I thought for a moment. “Can you get along with what you have for a few weeks? Once the kids are out in California, I could take you to Chicago to get what you want.”
Her eyes widened. “You’d do that?”
“Yeah. I’m making a table for a couple in Saugatuck that will be ready by then. I’ll deliver it on the way.”
“You make furniture?”
I shrugged. “Here and there. So what do you say? The job includes room and board, and I’ll pay you weekly on top of that. You’d have to commit through the middle of August. You’d have time off when the kids visit their mom next month.”
She appeared to think about it, knotting her hands together on the tabletop. “Okay.”
“So you’ll take the position?”
“I’ll take it.”
“Good.” Our eyes met, and my body hummed—a warning. “But I think we should probably . . .” I glanced over at the kids. “Set some boundaries.”
She sat up taller. “Definitely.”
I lowered my voice. “What happened last night can’t happen again.”
“I agree completely.”
“It was just . . .” I grappled for what it was. The full moon? A moment of weakness? A fear deep in my gut that my brother was right and I was indeed a fucking idiot?
“I don’t think it was any one thing,” Veronica said.
“Whatever it was, it stays between us.”
She mimed zipping her lips, then smiled at me, her eyes twinkling.
Great, now we had a secret. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a secret with someone. It made me feel closer to her, which was precisely the opposite of how I wanted to feel.
Maybe that’s why I said what I said next.
“It never should have happened in the first place.”
She looked a little taken aback. “Probably not, but—”
“It was my fault,” I interrupted. “Completely.”
“I don’t think we need to assign blame, Austin.”
“You were lonely and vulnerable and confused. It affected me.”
“Okay, wait just one minute.” She held up one hand. “Maybe I was lonely, but I wasn’t vulnerable and confused. I knew what I wanted.” Those eyes pinned me with an icy stare. “And you did too.”
“Not really.” I picked up my coffee cup and took a sip without tasting it.
“You’re saying you didn’t want to kiss me?”
“I’m saying it was late, it was dark—”
“Dark?” Her eyebrows shot up. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Lower your voice, please.” I set the mug down, frantically trying to think of a way to extricate myself from the mess I’d just made. What the fuck was my problem? “All I’m saying is that I got carried away. I felt sorry for you, and I acted totally out of character.”
“You felt sorry for me?” She leaned forward. Her gaze traveled downward—toward my lap. “Is that what that was against my stomach?”
My face burned. “Look, I don’t even know what we’re arguing about. Bottom line, while you’re working for me, we’ll have to keep our distance.”
“It won’t be a problem, because I have no intention of working for you.” With that, she dropped her dead phone back in her purse and left the booth.
When I heard the bell over the door jingle, I closed my eyes.
You’re better off, said the rational voice in my head. Having her around would have been a disaster. You heard her—she doesn’t need to be rescued. You’re too attracted to her, and she gets under your skin too easily. You’d be on edge all the fucking time.
But where the hell was she going to go?
“Dad, can we have some more quarters?”
I opened my eyes to see the twins standing at the side of the booth. “No. That’s all I brought.”
“Where’s Veronica?” Adelaide asked, looking at the empty side of the booth.
“She left.”
Owen glanced behind me, toward the door. “Where’d she go?”
“I don’t know,” I said irritably.
“What about her suitcase? It’s in our car,” Adelaide reminded me.
“Fuck.” I pinched the bridge of my nose.
The twins looked at each other and gasped.
“Yes, I said a bad word,” I barked. “Get over it.”
“Why are you so mad?” Owen asked as Ari arrived with the food.
“I don’t know, I just am! Now sit down.” I pointed at the seat Veronica had vacated. “Both of you over there.”
Adelaide looked concerned, glancing toward the door. “But what if Veronica comes back?”
I was more worried about her not coming back. “Let’s just eat.”
But I wasn’t hungry.
While the kids gobbled up their breakfasts, I drank coffee and brooded over Veronica’s abrupt departure. Every time I heard the bell over the door ring, I turned around and hoped to see her walking toward our booth.
The twins kept badgering me. Where had she gone? Why had she left without saying goodbye? What were we going to do with her suitcase? Would we ever see her again?
“Stop with the questions already.” I put my empty mug down. My hand was shaking, I’d had so much caffeine. “We’ll find her.”
“But why would she run away like that?” Adelaide persisted.
“She ran away because I hurt her feelings,” I finally said, signaling to Ari to bring the bill.
“What did you say?”
“It doesn’t matter. But listen, you two.” I leaned my elbows on the table. “What do you think of having her as your nanny this summer?”
“Yes!” Owen said, stuffing a forkful of pancake in his mouth. “I like her. She’s fun.”
“You guys might have to learn to cook,” I said.
“I know how to make some things already,” Adelaide boasted. “I can make nachos, fruit kebabs, and Pop Tarts.”
Ari brought the check and glanced at Veronica’s untouched Belgian waffle. “Did she . . . have to go?”
“Yeah, because Dad hurt her feelings,” said Owen.
“I’m going to apologize,” I said, giving Owen a dirty look. “As soon as we find her.”
“She’s going to be our new nanny,” announced Adelaide.
Ari smiled. “She seems like she’ll be a really fun nanny.”
“Did you know that’s our uncle’s picture on the wall over there?” Adelaide pointed to Dash’s black and white headshot, which was signed, To everybody back home at Moe’s, Dash Buckley. “He’s a TV star.”
The smile slid off her face as Ari glanced at the wall behind her. “Yeah. I know your uncle.”
“Don’t you like him?”
“Everybody likes Dashiel Buckley. He told me that himself.” Ari grabbed the check and my credit card. “I’ll take that up for you.”
I nodded, wondering if something had gone on between Mabel’s best friend and Dash at some point. “Thanks.”
“So where should we look?” Owen asked when we were standing on the sidewalk outside Moe’s.
Shielding my eyes from the sun, I looked down the block to the right and left. Downtown was always busy on Sundays, and Main Street was crowded with people ducking in and out of shops and restaurants or strolling down toward the harbor with cups of coffee.
I remembered how Veronica had remarked yesterday that she hadn’t seen it yet—and how she wanted to at least taste some fudge before she left town. “Come with me,” I told the kids. “I have an idea.”
They followed me into the nearest fudge shop, where I let them each choose a small piece—chocolate peanut butter for Owen and chocolate mint for Adelaide. For Veronica, I purchased plain vanilla, wishing there was some way to add sprinkles to it.
As the kids munched on their unexpected treat—I didn’t normally let them have dessert at ten a.m.—we walked to the corner and turned onto Spring Street, which sloped down toward the harbor.
After crossing Bayview Road, we stood at the foot of Waterfront Park, which was packed with picnicking families, dog walkers, joggers, and couples stretched out on blankets beneath the shade of a huge maple tree. Behind the lenses of my aviator sunglasses, my eyes scanned the crowd. Was she here?
“I see her!” Owen shouted, pointing toward the seawall.
“Where?”
“Over there—sitting on the rocks.”
I followed the direction of his finger and spotted the pale blond hair blowing in the breeze. My pulse picked up. “Okay. I don’t want you two near the water. Can you stay here please? Under this tree?”
“I think we should talk to her too,” Adelaide said. “What if you hurt her feelings again?”
“Then she won’t be our nanny and we’ll be stuck with you all the time,” Owen added.
“I’m not going to hurt her feelings again,” I said impatiently. “Now stay here.”
They groaned, but I held up one hand. “Listen, I just bought you guys fudge after breakfast. Give me a break.”
They exchanged a look that served as an agreement and plopped down beside the tree. “Fine,” Adelaide said, “but don’t mess this up.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Turning around, I took a deep breath and approached the seawall.
Veronica was sitting on one of the bigger boulders, staring out at the bay, her arms wrapped around her knees. Carefully, I made my way over to her and dropped down on the large, flat rock beside her.
It was windy by the water, so she might not have heard me approach, but when she didn’t even look over at me after I sat down, I knew I was being ignored.
“Hey,” I said.
She didn’t answer. Just pushed her sunglasses up her nose. They were round and oversized, like a movie star might have worn several decades ago. In fact, she could have been a movie poster sitting there by the water in her fancy outfit, the sun glinting off the gold in her hair. My heart began to beat faster.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Fine.”
I adjusted my hat and looked out at the sailboats and cabin cruisers in the harbor. The Pier Inn Marina was to our right, and out on the restaurant’s deck, people sat enjoying brunch under huge striped umbrellas. To our left was the unimpeded view of the water offered to the giant homes along Bayview Road. Lighthouse Point curved out into the bay just beyond the marina, each house boasting its own dock lined with water toys—boats, jet skis, giant inner tubes, dinghies. At the tip of the peninsula stood the lighthouse itself, looking pretty much the same as it had since it was built in 1884—white-painted bricks, windows on all four sides, the keeper’s two-story brick dwelling beside it.
Things were slow to change in Cherry Tree Harbor. And we had a historical preservation committee that liked to keep every stone, tree, and brick just as it always had been for the last one hundred and fifty years. People liked to complain about that whenever they wanted to modernize their home or business, but I sort of understood it. I was resistant to change too.
And I had a feeling the woman next to me could change everything.
I pushed that fear aside and focused on the task at hand. “You missed breakfast.”
“I wasn’t hungry anymore.”
“So you probably don’t want this fudge I got for you.”
She looked down at the bag I held out. “What kind is it?”
“Vanilla. They didn’t have any sprinkles—I asked.”
She didn’t laugh. “No, thank you.”
“Come on, Veronica. I’m trying to apologize.”
“You are?”
“Yes.”
“Because usually an apology sounds like ‘I’m sorry’ and not just ‘I got you some fudge.’”
“I’m sorry.”
Now she pushed her glasses to the top of her head and looked me in the eye. “For what?”
“For making you feel bad about last night. The truth is, I do feel guilty about taking advantage of you in a vulnerable moment, but that’s not why I kissed you.”
Apparently finding me sincere, she replaced her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “Thank you. I accept your apology.” She held out one hand. “And your fudge.”
Relieved, I gave her the bag.
She reached inside, took out the slice, and bit off a piece. “Mmm. Want some?”
I started to say no, but she held it up for me to take a bite right from her fingers. As it melted in my mouth, I thought, This is what she would taste like right now if I kissed her—creamy, buttery, sweet. My insides twisted like a corkscrew. “Thanks.”
“So what’s your favorite fudge flavor?” she asked.
“I don’t eat many sweets.”
“But you must indulge sometimes.”
“Not often. I’m pretty disciplined.”
She took another bite of fudge. “What do you do for fun?”
“I make furniture.”
“But that’s still work,” she pointed out. “I meant in your spare time.”
“I spend all my spare time with my kids.”
“You don’t do anything just for you? Like, to let off steam?”
“I run, if I have the time. I used to have a motorcycle, but I sold it when the twins were born.”
“Jeez. You are all work, no play.”
“Who said that about me?” I asked testily. “Mabel?”
“Actually, it was Ari.”
I rolled my eyes. “Same difference. She’s like the second little sister I never asked for.”
“You’re lucky. I wish I had one little sister.” Veronica sighed and focused her attention out over the bay again before tilting her face to the sun. “It’s so beautiful here.”
I admired the curve of her throat. “Then stay for the summer.”
“I’m not sure I should, Austin.”
“Why not? Did you get a better offer since I last saw you?”
“No,” she admitted. “But I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted.”
“You’re wanted here. Jesus, everyone you’ve met adores you—my kids, my siblings, even crusty old Larry.”
She paused, looking at me sideways. “What about you? Do you like me?”
“Yes. As a friend.”
Her brows peeked over the tops of her sunglasses. “A friend, huh?”
“Yes, Veronica. If you stay, we’ll be friends.”
“My friends call me Roni.”
“Roni.” I took a deep breath and counted to five. This woman could test the patience of a monk. “Will you take the job?”
“I’m considering it. But maybe I should ask you some questions first.”
I ran a hand over my jaw and glanced back at the kids—they were right where I’d left them, licking their fingers. “Like what?”
“Do you have a criminal record?”
“No.”
“Are you going to make me use a chore chart?”
“Maybe.”
“Will you fire me if I serve fried bologna sandwiches every night?”
“Definitely.”
“Good to know.” She nodded succinctly. “I accept your offer. Of employment and friendship.”
“Thank you,” I said, although I wasn’t sure why I should thank her when it was me doing something for her. “We can go over your duties, the schedule, and payment when we get back to the house.”
“Deal.”
I stood up, then offered her a hand, which she accepted, although she was remarkably sure-footed as she made her way over the rocks.
“Mabel offered you the use of her car for the summer,” I said when I reached the grass where she waited for me.
“Oh, that’s so sweet.” We began walking toward the tree where the kids were scrambling to their feet.
“And we should get you a new phone number right away. I need to be able to contact you. And set up a bank account.”
“Okay.” Veronica waved at the kids, who came running over.
“I found you first!” Owen yelled happily. He had chocolate all over his mouth.
“I’m so glad you did.” She ruffled his hair, then pulled a package of wipes from her bag and gave him one. “Here. You’ve got a fudge beard and mustache going.”
“Do I look like my dad?”
She laughed. “Exactly like him.”
“Are you going to be the new nanny?” Adelaide asked.
“Yes.” She stood tall and saluted. “Roni Sutton, nanny, reporting for duty.”
“Dad, can we show Roni the lighthouse?” Owen asked as he wiped his mouth and chin.
“Okay, but not the inside tour.” I checked my watch. “I promised your Uncle Xander I’d help him out with something this afternoon.”
“But the inside tour is the best,” Adelaide whined. “You get to see where the keeper lived, the bedrooms and kitchen and everything. And you get to climb the stairs and look out from the top!”
“I know, but we have to get Veronica a new phone, and it’s already—”
“Come on, Daddy, don’t be a stick in the mud.” My daughter turned to Veronica and said, “That’s what Aunt Mabel calls him when he doesn’t want to do something fun.”
“Or a party pooper.” Owen giggled at saying one of his favorite words. “We call him that a lot too.”
“He can’t be that bad,” said Veronica, winking at me. “I bet he’s fun when he wants to be.”
They took her by the hands and pulled her in the direction of the lighthouse, leaving me standing there wondering if I’d just made the best decision ever or the biggest mistake of my life.
