The Nanny

What are you doing here?”

Sophie is still standing on the faded carpet of the apartment hallway. I think I’m actually too stunned to even think to invite her in at first, stuck in the doorway as she rubs her arm guiltily.

“Sophie,” I press, gently grabbing her arm and pulling her inside the apartment before shutting the door. “How did you even get here?”

“An Uber,” she tells me matter-of-factly.

“An Uber,” I echo dumbly. “You took an Uber?”

“Yes.”

“All by yourself?”

She holds up a cell phone that I recognize. “I used my dad’s phone.”

“You used your dad’s . . .” I blink, trying to wrap my head around what she’s saying. “Where is your dad?”

“Working,” she tells me. “I snuck out of the office.”

“Sophie, that was extremely dangerous. Do you understand me? You are way too young to be hopping into Ubers and going across town. How did you even get the address?”

“Dad had it on his phone.”

Everything she is saying sounds perfectly reasonable and logical, but nothing about it makes any sense. I know Sophie is an incredibly smart little girl, but this feels impossible, even for her.

“What are you doing here, Sophie?”

She looks down at the floor. “I needed to see you.”

“You needed to see me.”

“Yes. Dad wouldn’t let me call you.”

My stomach twists. She wanted to call me? The guilt I feel for not having said goodbye to her flares up like it’s brand new. “Sophie . . . your dad is probably freaking out.”

“No, he isn’t,” she mumbles. “He’s going to give me away.”

“What?”

She looks at me with a helpless expression. “He’s going to give me away! To Aunt Iris!”

“Come here.” I tug her hand, leading her to the couch, and pat the space beside me so that she can sit. “What are you talking about?”

“I heard him talking to her,” Sophie tells me. “On the phone. He was talking about me going to her house. He doesn’t want to keep me anymore because I ran you off.”

“Oh, Sophie.” My heart breaks a little more. “You didn’t run me off.”

“But I always run off the nanny. I . . .” Her eyes well with tears. “I couldn’t help Wanda. Is that why you left? Dad wouldn’t tell me, but that has to be why you left, right?”

“Oh, honey.” I pull her against me, crushing her in my arms as the familiar scent of her watermelon shampoo hits my nostrils. I breathe it in, my emotions lodging in my throat. I thought I’d never smell it again. “That’s not why I left. You did nothing wrong. Nothing.”

She turns her face to press deeper against my chest, her arms winding around my waist. “Then why did you leave?”

“It’s . . . complicated.”

“Were you mad at my dad?”

“No. No. I wasn’t. I wasn’t mad at anyone.”

“Dad misses you,” she mumbles into my shirt. “He never talks about you, but he seems so sad all the time.”

I have to shut my eyes so that I can keep from crying again. “I miss him too,” I admit quietly. “I miss you both.”

“Then come back! Maybe if you come back, Dad won’t give me away!”

“Soph . . .” I urge her backward, looking her in the eyes. “Your dad isn’t going to give you away. There’s no way he would ever do that. He loves you.”

“Then why was he talking to Aunt Iris about me going to her house?”

My conversation with Iris drifts through my thoughts, and I can’t be sure that whatever is going on between Iris and Aiden means progress, but I have to hope that’s the case. I know that Aiden would never give Sophie up. Not under any circumstances.

“I’m sure it’s not what you think,” I tell her. “Maybe they’re trying to stop fighting so much. I’m sure they both want to make you happy.”

“I don’t want to leave Dad’s house,” she says pitifully. “I want to stay with him.”

“Of course you do,” I soothe. “And I know that he wants you to stay there too. He loves you so much, Sophie, which is why I’m sure he is out of his mind with worry right now.”

“Maybe,” she mumbles.

“I’m sure of it,” I insist, “which is why we have to take you back.”

“But even if I stay with my dad,” Sophie goes on, “you won’t come back.”

Everything in my chest feels like it’s being squeezed too tightly, my eyes stinging as her piercing gaze holds mine. Her green eyes are so similar to the green of Aiden’s right eye, and her expression now feels like looking at a smaller version of him. It makes me miss him all the more.

“I don’t think your dad would want me to come back, Sophie. I said . . . a lot of terrible things when I left.”

“Why?”

“Because . . . I thought that I had to. I thought that I needed to leave to protect you guys.”

Sophie’s nose wrinkles. “That’s silly. You can’t protect us. You’re too small. My dad’s way bigger than you. You should let him protect us.”

I can’t help but laugh; her ten-year-old logic is so simple and yet completely spot-on in a roundabout way. I reach to run my fingers through her hair, brushing it from her face before cupping her cheek.

“I don’t know if it’s that simple,” I tell her. “I’m sure I’m the last person your dad wants to see.”

“But don’t you love him?”

This takes me completely off guard. “What?”

“You went on dates,” she insists. “And you were”—she makes a face—“kissing and stuff. That means you love him, right?”

“I . . . wow. You really know how to put someone on the spot.”

“What does that mean?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, sighing. “Never mind. I don’t think it matters if I love him.”

“Yes, it does. My mom always said that you can fix anything with love.”

My lips press together, something tugging at my heart. “She did?”

“Yes.” Sophie nods enthusiastically. “So if you love him, we can fix it! You can come back, and then he won’t send me away, and everything will be okay again!”

“Sophie, it’s not that simple.”

“But if you—”

“Just trust me,” I huff, cutting her off. “I wish things were different, but they aren’t.”

Sophie hangs her head, and I feel that hole in my chest—the one I’d been so sure was starting to heal—throb with fresh pain as if it had been opened moments ago. I would give anything for things to be as simple as she thinks they are; I would love to take her back and apologize and throw myself in Aiden’s arms or even at his feet, but I know that’s not how the world works. She didn’t see the look on his face when I told him that they were more than I signed up for. I took every warm moment we had together during my time there and threw it right back in his face. I don’t think there’s anything I can say to come back from that.

“But I do have to take you back to him,” I say resignedly. “So I’m going to need you to call the restaurant and see if he’s still there or if he’s gone home.”

I can’t even imagine the level of panic Aiden is at right now; he’s probably got the entire San Diego police force out on the streets right now. Sophie looks dejected, and I know none of this is what she wanted to hear, and I wish that I had better answers for her. I wish I could make everything okay for her—but I don’t think it’s in the cards. Not for me, and not for us.

I help Sophie dial the number to the restaurant and hand over the phone, because I’m way too much of a coward to call myself. I hold my breath while she dials, realizing in a very short time I am going to be forced to see Aiden again. I can’t imagine what kind of speech Aiden will have for Sophie when she gets back to him, and I can see that she’s thinking the same thing, judging by the nervous look on her face, but I think I have more to be scared of.

Because I doubt Aiden will even talk to me at all.

—

Aiden had already left the restaurant—his coworkers said he left immediately after discovering that Sophie had snuck out, and he headed back to his house to try to look for her there. I had been right about his level of panic; it’s evident by the flashing lights we are met with outside the town house when we pull up alongside the street. Sophie looks at me with fear in her eyes as I park in front of the gate, obviously regretting her decision entirely as she is no doubt anxious about how her dad will receive her when she gets inside.

“Will you come in with me?”

I frown, looking from her in my passenger seat to the front door that is awash with red-and-blue lights. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea . . .”

“But he wants to see you,” she urges. “And maybe if you come with me, he won’t be so mad.”

“Oh, I think he’s still going to be mad,” I warn her. “You did a silly thing, Soph.”

She hangs her head. “I know.”

The idea of seeing Aiden again is something I am torn between wanting terribly and wanting terribly to avoid, but the helpless look on Sophie’s face tugs at my heartstrings, and I know that despite my discomfort, I owe her this much. Probably more.

“Okay,” I concede. “I’ll go with you. Just to take you inside, okay? Then I have to go.”

She nods eagerly, looking a tad relieved. “Okay.”

I feel like I’m the ten-year-old in massive trouble when I walk behind her through the gate, my hand gently between her shoulder blades as I urge her up the path. The front door is ajar, and all the lights are on in the house, but the first floor is empty when we step inside. I can hear voices upstairs, a cacophony of different people talking over each other, but above them all, I can hear one that I recognize. One that makes my stomach flutter, even now.

Sophie reaches for my hand at the bottom of the stairs, giving me another worried look as I wrap my hand around hers. I don’t let go of it as we ascend, and at first, when we reach the top, no one notices us. They’re too busy taking notes and making calls, and there, in the middle of all of it, is a frantic-looking Aiden Reid. He’s still in his chef coat, his arms crossed tightly across his chest as he speaks heatedly with an officer, and I can see that his hair is messy like he’s been running his fingers through it repeatedly. He looks out of his mind with worry.

I can tell when he finally sees us; he stops midsentence and turns his face with wide eyes and open mouth, like he’s completely forgotten what he was about to say. I watch as he looks from Sophie to me and back again, trying to make sense of her being back, especially with me.

“Sophie,” he breathes, stomping across the carpet and falling to his knees to pull her against him. “Where were you? Do you have any idea how worried I was about you? You can’t disappear like that.” He pushes her back, looking over her body. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?”

She nods feebly. “I’m okay.”

“Where did you go?”

“To Wanda’s,” I offer quietly.

Aiden looks up at me then, and even like this—frazzled and confused and slightly dazed—it breaks my heart to look at him. I can feel every kiss and every touch all at once, all of it rushing back with one look. He swallows thickly as he rises to stand, staring at me like I’m a ghost.

“Wanda’s?”

I nod. “She took an Uber.”

“An Uber,” he repeats flatly. He looks down at her with a knitted brow. “You took an Uber?”

She pulls his phone out of her pocket, handing it back to him sheepishly. “I found the address in your phone.”

“You found the . . . Jesus Christ, Sophie. That’s all the way across town. Do you have any idea how dangerous this was?”

She looks down at her feet, shifting her weight from one to the other. “I’m sorry.”

“Why did you do this?”

“Because . . . I thought you were going to give me away.”

This visibly takes him by surprise. “What? Why on earth would you think that?”

“I heard you talking to Aunt Iris this morning,” she mumbles. “You said you were going to bring me to her house.”

Aiden sighs, running his hands down his face. “To visit, Soph. Not to stay. Your aunt and I . . . we’re trying to find some common ground with you. We’re trying not to fight so much.” He ducks to cup her chin gently. “I would never give you away. Do you understand? Never.”

“That’s what Cassie said,” Sophie answers, her voice trembling. “But I was scared.”

“I’m sorry,” Aiden says wearily. “I was going to talk to you about this tomorrow. I had no idea you even heard the conversation. But you have to understand that there is nothing you could do or say that will make me send you away. Okay?”

I can tell it’s difficult for him to acknowledge me. I can see it in the way he stares over Sophie’s head for a moment or two before finally turning my way stiffly. “Thank you,” he says. “For bringing her back.”

“Of course,” I say awkwardly. “I wanted to make sure she got home safely.”

“Right.” His jaw works subtly. “Of course.”

I rub my arm, still feeling awkward. “Okay. Well. I guess I’d better leave you guys to it then.”

I start to turn back toward the stairs, finding it incredibly difficult to keep looking at him. I hope that with time, my brain can at least smudge the memory of his face, because if I have to recall his perfect face every other day, I might go insane.

Aiden surprises me when his hand darts out to snatch my wrist, pulling me back. “Is that really all you want to say?”

“What?” I glance down at his hand holding me before meeting his eyes. “What do you mean?”

His eyes seem to burn as they hold mine, the brown a dark, warm honey and the green a rich, bright seafoam. I don’t think my brain could forget those if they tried, unfortunately.

“Iris and I did have a long talk this morning,” he says. “She had a lot of interesting things to say.”

“O-oh.” My pulse quickens. “Really?”

“Yes. Really. Apparently someone plopped down across from her at a café and convinced her to call me and work things out.”

“Oh, well . . . I figured it was the least I could do.”

“But what I don’t get is . . . Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“I mean, if you wanted to toss us aside, if we were more than you signed up for—why would you care about what happened between Iris and us? Why would you insist that she try to work things out with me?”

“I—”

“And why would you tell her all about how wonderful I was with Sophie, and how much we deserved happiness?”

“Oh, well, I—”

“Why would someone who wanted to push us aside care about any of that?”

“Aiden, it’s just—”

“Because she loves you,” Sophie pipes up.

Both of us look down at her with surprise, her expression nonchalant and, frankly, annoyed. Like she’s over this argument.

Aiden looks back up at me with a hopeful expression, and even this tiny flicker of need in his eyes is enough to make my stomach swoop with anticipation. Neither of us says anything, and I think maybe he is waiting for me to confirm or deny this, but I can’t seem to find my voice. I open my mouth to let it gape as I try to form words, but Sophie, once again, decides to help us out.

“Don’t worry,” she says in that same bored tone. “Dad loves you too.”

I imagine my expression appears as astounded as his when our eyes meet again, and I notice the way his eyes search mine for any sign of a lie. “Is that true?”

“I—” I swallow, my mouth feeling dry. “Yes.”

“You love me?”

I try to look surer than I feel. “Yes, I do.”

He catches me by surprise when he pulls me against him, my shock dissipating in only a moment when his mouth covers mine. There’s desperation in his kiss that melds with relief, and my arms wind around his neck as if by instinct, trying to bring myself as close to him as I can possibly be. My fingers shove through his hair as his hands curve against my spine to pull me tighter, and it isn’t until we hear the clearing of a throat behind us that either of us seems to remember the situation we’re in.

I feel my cheeks warm with a blush when I notice the police officer lingering awkwardly nearby, trying to look anywhere but at us as he gets our attention. “I guess we can call this matter closed then, yeah?”

“Oh.” Aiden looks dazedly between me and his daughter before laughter bubbles out of him. “I guess we can. Sorry, Officer.”

“Well, uh. We’ll get out of your hair.” The policeman throws his finger in a circle, rounding up his fellow officers before he gives Sophie a pointed look. “Next time, maybe tell someone where you’re going, little lady.”

Sophie pales. “Yes, sir.”

“Right.” The officer’s mouth tilts with a smile as we move out of the way of the stairs, and he gives us both a nod. “You folks have a good night.”

I don’t think any of us move until we hear the front door close downstairs, Aiden still looking at me like I might disappear any moment before he gives his attention to his daughter. “You and I have a lot to talk about, Sophie.”

“Yeah.” She hangs her head. “I know.”

He releases me then, bending to press his lips to Sophie’s hair. “But I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” she says again.

“Why don’t you head up to your room,” he tells her. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Sophie grimaces. “Are you guys going to kiss again?”

“Yes,” Aiden says. “We are.” He smiles when she sticks out her tongue. “But I think you owe us this one.”

“Fine,” she groans.

She trudges off toward the stairs that lead up to her room, and Aiden waits until he hears her bedroom door close before he regards me again.

“You know you shouldn’t have lied to me,” he scolds. “It’s been a shitty few weeks.”

“I know.” I turn my face down. “Me too.”

He reaches to tilt up my chin, his knuckle lingering below it as he forces me to look at him. “I missed you,” he admits. “So fucking much, Cassie.” He scoffs as he shakes his head. “Even your damned Snapple facts.”

One side of my mouth tilts up. “Did you know that no two lip imprints are the same?”

“That feels like one I’d want to test.”

I press up on my toes, closing my eyes as I brush my mouth against his. “I missed you too.”

“If you want to make it up to me,” he says as he pulls me closer, “move back in.”

I can’t even pretend that my heart doesn’t skip a beat as my lips curl in a grin. “Are you offering me another job?”

“No.” He shakes his head, leaning in so that his lips hover inches from mine. “I’m offering you my whole damned life, if you want it.”

Everything inside me lights up like a sparkler bomb going up in a flare, my skin tingling and my heart pounding and all of my senses going into overdrive in what I can only describe as pure happiness. I know there is more to talk about, more to say, but I think there will be time for that later. I think right now I can revel in the fact that we’re here, and that he still wants me—even after everything. Right now, that’s more than enough.

I pretend to consider this. “Will you be making pancakes?”

“I will not be making pancakes.”

“Hmm. Well, in that case . . .”

He smiles as he pulls me in for another kiss, and I melt into it, my heart doing a happy little dance as I feel that hole in my chest quietly close, like it was never even there. I realize then that it wasn’t so much of a hole, but a piece that was missing—and it was right here, with them, just waiting for me to pick it back up.

“Oh,” he murmurs, still half kissing me. “In case it wasn’t clear . . .” His lips press against the corner of my mouth, and I can feel his smile there, like it’s imprinted on my skin. “I love you too.”

I’m sinking into his kiss again, mentally calculating how long we can get away with making out downstairs before Sophie comes to scold us, and at that thought, I feel a mild flicker of panic. I push Aiden away, looking at him seriously. “We can never, ever tell Sophie how we met.”

Aiden laughs, already pulling me in again. “Whatever you say, Cici.”

I’m sure that later we will have to figure out this whole kissing thing; I know that Sophie will insist on keeping it to a minimum, as is her way, but I think tonight we get a free pass. It’s not every day that you find love because of a booby cam. I think that warrants a few celebratory kisses. I can already hear the jokes Wanda will be making. There’s no way she will ever stop talking about this.

Strangely . . . I find I absolutely don’t mind.

—◊—

I’ve refreshed the page a thousand times.

It sounds exaggerative, but it has to be true.

But my brain can’t seem to comprehend the idea of her just being . . . gone. Without a trace.

I mentally calculate the number of days between this one and when I last spoke to her—and it makes my chest hurt, realizing how many there’ve been. They’ve all blended together this last month, and with everything that’s happened . . .

I should have said something.

I could have said anything, anything to let her know I didn’t mean to stand her up.

But I didn’t, and now she’s gone.

I don’t even know her real name.

—◊—