The Nanny Who Kissed Her Boss. Barbara McMahon
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He wished she’d at least smile at him instead of looking like someone going to a funeral.
Jacey came to Declan’s side and looked at Savannah.
“Are you the babysitter?” she asked rudely.
“I’m a certified nanny, but you can call me a babysitter if you think that fits better,” Savannah said calmly.
Jacey looked at Savannah and then at her dad. “Did you hire her for me or you?” she asked.
“That’s enough,” Declan snapped out. “Come in, please, Savannah. As you probably guessed, this is my daughter, Jacey.” He turned to Jacey and introduced Savannah.
“If she’s going, I’m not. I’m calling Mom.” Jacey turned and went back to the sofa, pulling her cell phone from her pocket. She glowered at both her father and Savannah.
Savannah sighed softly. She really didn’t need another assignment that didn’t go well. Her last one had been enough to drive a saint crazy. And she wasn’t anywhere near being a saint. While her gaze was focused on Jacey, she was very aware of the girl’s father standing near enough that she caught a whiff of his aftershave, which spiraled her right back to when she’d been close enough to nuzzle his neck and be flooded with sensations of scent and touch.
Still, having come this far she felt obligated at least to give this interview a fair shake. Trying to ignore Declan, she put herself in Jacey’s shoes. She found a bit of empathy. Teen years were hard. Being shunted back and forth between parents was hard. And if Jacey’s mother was allowing her to dress like this, she wasn’t getting a lot of parental guidance at home.
She sat on one of the chairs, looking at Jacey as the girl stared back at her.
Declan stood nearby. “Does anyone want something to drink?”
“Like what?” Jacey asked.
“Coffee, tea, hot chocolate, a soft drink?”
“I’ll have coffee,” Savannah said.
“I don’t want anything,” Jacey growled.
“I’ll be right back,” Declan said and disappeared into the kitchen area. Suddenly she felt sorry for Declan. He appeared to be trying so hard. Faced with the rebellious teen before her, Savannah knew he’d be in for a bumpy road.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Jacey said defiantly.
Savannah took the time to study the girl while she tried to come up with an answer. Jacey could be really pretty if she’d wash her face and wash out whatever dye she’d used on her hair. And put on a colorful shirt. Black leached the color from her skin.
“I’m sure your father knows best,” she ended up saying.
“I’m not going.”
“Oh? Have the plans changed?”
Jacey frowned. “I don’t think my mom’s going to let me go to California.”
Declan returned, carrying a tray with two mugs of coffee. He glanced between the two and then placed the tray on a table. “You like it black,” he said to Savannah, handing her the cup.
Jacey looked at her father with suspicion.
“Jacey says she isn’t going on the trip,” Savannah said, taking the cup and meeting Jacey’s gaze over the rim.
“Well, Jacey’s wrong. She’s not only going, she’s going to have a great time,” he said, sitting on another chair facing the sofa.
“When Mom calls back and I tell her what you want to do, she’ll come get me.”
Savannah watched as she sipped her coffee. Here was a very frustrated, unhappy young person anxious to make things go her way, and they weren’t going to. What could she do to distract her? Get her off that line of thinking and on to exploring the possibilities the summer offered?
Jacey faced her father defiantly. “She’ll be calling soon.”
“Honey, your mother said when she brought you here that she wants you to spend the summer with me. I want you to have a good time. But if you decide to make it painful, so be it. We’re still going to California, all three of us.”
“Did you tell her we’ll be shopping in San Francisco?” Savannah asked. She looked at Jacey. “I’ve been to the City by the Bay before. It’s a fabulous place. They have the crookedest street in the world there. Yummy seafood at the wharf. And the stores are to die for.”
“Manhattan has the coolest stores,” Jacey said, not at all interested.
“Other places can be cool, too, if you give them a chance,” Declan said.
“I hate you!” Jacey jumped up. “Mom said you were always difficult. She was right!”
She ran from the room. A moment later a door slammed.
Savannah looked at Declan. “That went well,” she said. “Not. Is she always like that?”
“Before Margo brought her over the other day, I hadn’t seen her since April. The hair and makeup is new since then. I think today was a new high in rudeness. Or maybe I mean a new low. With that attitude, we’re all going to be miserable.”
He looked at her. “You’re still going, right? I know you have the right to refuse, but see her for what she could be, not how she’s acting today.”
Savannah hesitated. She was a professional and knew she was good at her job. But this assignment would be more difficult than any other she’d had. Not only was the child rebellious and going through a definite Goth stage, Savannah was having trouble not focusing on the man sitting across from her.
“I could try it. If nothing else, I’ll stick through the San Francisco portion. If it is untenable you’ll be on your own for the hiking part. But you’d be with her there and really not need a nanny.”
He nodded. “I can handle that. It’s not what I want, but if it’s the best you’ll offer, I’ll take it. And hope you change your mind by the time we leave San Francisco.”
“We don’t always get what we want,” Savannah said, rising. “I’ll meet you at the airport on Monday. What airline and flight? I imagine the next few days will prove challenging.” In more ways than dealing with his daughter.
“I think getting her away from her mother will be the best thing for her. I haven’t told her yet there’s no cell service in the mountains,” Declan said, his expression one of bewilderment and frustration.
“Won’t that be fun when she finds out,” Savannah said. She studied Declan, seeing his frustration beneath everything. It would prove interesting to see how he handled his daughter.
Savannah hadn’t known her own father; he’d died when she was very little. But she’d have loved to have had a father like Declan, good-looking, successful and obviously concerned about his daughter.
Suddenly she hoped the trip would go as planned for his sake.
She walked to the door as he rose and followed her. She could almost feel the vibrations between them. Time and distance—that’s what she needed.
He looked at her and caught her gaze, lifting an eyebrow in silent question.
She looked away, too many memories.
“We leave from JFK at ten, arrive in San Francisco shortly after noon.” He gave her the airline and said he could have a car pick her up.
“Not necessary, I’ll be there.”
She reached the door and ventured one more look at him. “Strictly business, right, Declan?”
“Absolutely. Do you want to go over the itinerary before you go?” he asked.
Savannah hesitated again, then shrugged. “I guess.” Every instinct clamored for her to