by Thea Dawson
The little cafe began to show signs of a mild lunch rush. A pair of young men in business suits grabbed sandwiches and sat at a corner table, an older couple ordered Greek salads, and a woman with two small children bought cupcakes to the sound of anticipatory squealing.
Rachel had just finished up her sandwich and gone back to her book when the bell over the door jangled again. She cast a quick glance at Nora, worried the sound might have woken her, but the baby remained asleep. Then Rachel looked up at the woman who had just walked in.
She did not look like she belonged in suburban Connecticut. Huge movie-star sunglasses obscured her face, while a short, black leather skirt showed off long legs encased in microfiber tights and tasteful black suede mid-calf boots. Her top half was covered in a belted black leather jacket that showed off her slender form. A colorful Hermes scarf peeked out of the jacket’s collar, while fire-engine red hair brushed her black leather shoulders. She looked sophisticated, urban, expensive … A little scary.
Rachel watched the woman stride up to the counter, where she ordered a cappuccino and a salad. The order placed, the woman turned around, coolly surveying the little coffee shop through her enormous glasses, and Rachel hastily looked back at her book before she could get caught staring.
“Rachel?”
Rachel looked up to see the Woman in Black striding toward her. “Yes?”
“Oh my God, Rachel Cohen?”
The woman swiped her sunglasses off her face and beamed at her. With a smile and without the sunglasses, she suddenly looked much younger and less intimidating. It still took Rachel a moment, though.
“Savannah?”
Rachel stood up, and the two women embraced each other.
“I didn’t know you still lived here—”
“I didn’t know you were back—”
“What are you up to—”
“How long has it been—”
“You look amazing!” they both said at the same time and burst into laughter.
Savannah put her hand over her heart. “It is so good to see you!” She looked down at Nora. “And I see we have some serious catching up to do. Who is this precious little angel?”
Savannah’s southern accent, the one she’d tried so hard to repress throughout high school, was coming out, the way it always did when she got excited. It was an odd contrast with her biker-chick/movie-star outfit.
“She’s not mine,” Rachel explained. “I’m just babysitting. Crazy story. Can you stay and have lunch? I would love to catch up with you.”
“Just for a few minutes. I’m meeting a client at noon—Oh, let me grab my stuff!”
She darted up to the counter to retrieve her coffee and the bag with her salad, then came back. She undid her coat, revealing a soft green cashmere sweater underneath—much closer to the style Rachel remembered her having in high school. But that was the thing about Savannah; she’d always wanted to look tough, or at least a little edgy, but with her sweet personality, she’d never really been able to pull it off.
Her coat draped over the back of her chair, Savannah scooted into the seat across from Rachel and looked at her with an eager smile. “Okay, you first—when did you get back into town? I thought you were jet setting all over the world!”
Rachel laughed. “Not exactly jet setting. I nannied in London for nine months, then taught English in Japan for two years. After that, I volunteered in India for six months before teaching English again at a school in Brazil. When my contract ended, I decided it was time to go home. I got back a week ago. I would have gotten in touch, but I thought you were still in Chicago.”
“I was there for a few years, but then I decided to come back.”
“Really?” Rachel stared at her old friend with open astonishment. Back in high school, Savannah had never kept her loathing of Haven Bay a secret.
Savannah gave an overly casual toss of her dyed red hair. “Mm. I decided to get my real estate brokers license, and I figured if I was going to sell houses, I might as well sell the most expensive ones in the country, right?”
“Sure.” Rachel nodded approvingly. “So you’re in real estate now? How is that going?” She took a bite of her sandwich as Savannah opened the plastic container of salad.
“It’s great. Have you heard of Carrington & Associates?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen their signs.”
“Well, that’s where I work. I was their top salesperson last quarter, and it looks like I’m going to be top again this quarter.” Savannah smiled like a cat who’d got the cream. “I just got an accepted offer on a four-million-dollar house.”
Judging by the expensive outfit, Savannah was doing well indeed. Rachel watched, fascinated and amused, as the intimidating persona Savannah had walked in with fell away, and the chatty, warm-hearted girl she remembered from high school took her place.
“Good for you!” Rachel declared. “How’s your mom? Does she still work for the Harpers?”
Savannah shook her head. “Oh, no,” she said. “The Harpers moved to South Carolina the year after we graduated. They offered to take my mom, but she turned them down.” Savannah’s mother had been the Harpers’ live-in housekeeper for over ten years.
“So, what’s she doing now?”
Savannah’s face glowed with pride. “She’s halfway through a master’s program in physical therapy,” she said. “After the Harpers left, she got her bachelor’s degree at UConn, then she got accepted to one of the best physical therapy graduate programs in the country, and now she’s living out in Oregon.”
“That’s awesome!” Rachel tried to imagine her own parents going back to college and couldn’t quite picture it. “She’s not that old, is she?”
Savannah’s expression softened. “She’s only forty-five. She always wanted to go to college, but she had her hands full looking after me. I miss her so much, but I am just thrilled that she’s finally able to do what she wants with her life.”
Savannah’s dad had never been in the picture as far as Rachel knew, and Savannah and her mother had always been close. Rachel thought of Jessie, and how different her own life might have been.
Savannah, of course, didn’t know about Jessie. And now wasn’t the time to bring it up.
“How’re your parents doing?” Savannah asked.
“Crazy as ever,” Rachel said cheerfully. “They’d love to see you. We should get together.”
Savannah put a hand over her heart. “Oh, my Lord, I would love to see your parents again. Now I feel bad that I didn’t think to look them up soon—Oh!” she said loudly. Patrons at other tables glanced over at the sound. “You know who else is in town? Holly! We have to get together, the three amigas together again!”
Rachel clapped her hands in delight. “Yes! Oh, my God! I’d love to see Holly! I thought she was out in Los Angeles—”
“Long story. I’ll let her fill you in. So, what’s the crazy babysitting story?”
“Oh, that.” Rachel quickly filled Savannah in on her bizarre job interview.
Savannah squinted at her when she was done. “Bryce Davidson? He has a baby?”
“Well …” What had Bryce said? She’s sort of mine. Rachel shrugged. “I guess. I don’t really know. You know Bryce?”
Savannah nodded. “He’s represented a couple of my clients at closings. One of those guys who’s a little too much all that for his own good, you know?”
“Uh … no. Not really. What do—?” She was cut off by a thin, irritated wail. “Whoops! Were we making too much noise for you?” Rachel rubbed the baby’s stomach in what she hoped was a soothing gesture. “Sorry, Nora. I kind of forgot about you.”
“Tell me you did not actually forget about this precious baby.” Savannah’s blue eyes widened with disapproval. “When I go, you’re not going to leave her here accidentally, or anything, are you?”
Rachel smiled at the baby as she shook her head. “She’s right beside me. I’d trip over the stroller if I tried to leave without her.” She undid t
he straps that secured Nora and pulled her out. “Savannah, meet Nora. Nora, this is my friend Savannah from high school.” She sniffed. “Goodness me, Nora. I think you may need your diaper changed.” She looked hopefully at Savannah. “You know anything about changing diapers?”
Savannah shook her head. “You’re on your own, but I question the judgment of the person who left you in charge of their child.”
“It’s fine. Kids love me,” Rachel assured her.
Nora let out a longer and louder wail.
Savannah looked unconvinced. “I’d love to see how this all turns out, but I need to run if I’m going to make it to my next showing on time.” She wiped her hands on a napkin and began stuffing the remains of her lunch into the paper bag it had come in.
Rachel glanced at the salad, which Savannah had barely touched. “Sorry I didn’t give you a chance to eat. You’re not going to throw it away, are you?” Savannah was leaning toward a nearby trashcan, bag in hand. “You could have it later.”
She was too polite to say so, but she thought Savannah could use the calories. She’d been slim in high school, but now she was positively skinny.
Savannah dumped the bag in the trash and picked her coffee cup off the table. “As long as I’ve got my coffee, I’m good.” She stood up and began to put her coat on.
Rachel looked up as she gently bounced Nora. “Before you leave, give me your number and Holly’s. Maybe we can get together this weekend.”
“I would love that!”
They quickly exchanged numbers and managed an awkward hug around Nora. Savannah finished buttoning up her black leather coat and popped her sunglasses back on over her eyes, transforming herself back into the hard-edged woman who’d walked into the cafe twenty minutes earlier. She then mitigated the effect by kissing her fingers and placing them on Nora’s head.
“Try to keep Rachel out of trouble, Nora,” she stage-whispered to the fussy baby. “It’s not easy, but if anyone can do it, you can.”
She grinned at Rachel and blew her a kiss. The bell over the door jangled as she left, and Rachel felt a touch of cool air from outside. Then it was gone, along with her old friend.
Nora’s lower lip trembled.
“Okay, baby girl, don’t get your diapers in a twist. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Rachel hauled the stroller into the restroom, blessed whoever had designed it for installing a changing table, and with the help of the well-stocked diaper bag, managed to clean Nora up satisfactorily.
After cleaning herself up as well, she wheeled the baby back into the cafe where she ordered dessert—because why not? Bryce was paying—and fed Nora a bottle.
By the time her phone rang at twelve-thirty, she had Nora seated on her lap and was making faces at her while the baby stared back at her through solemn blue eyes. She was actually quite adorable when she wasn’t screaming.
Praying she wouldn’t drop Nora, Rachel dug into her purse for the phone. Unknown number, which probably meant … She hit the pick-up button.
“Rachel and Nora’s flea circus, have stroller, will travel!” she said.
If Bryce thought she was amusing, he didn’t let on. “Rachel,” he said, “I’d like you to bring the baby back to the office now, please.”
3
Bryce jumped up and crossed the reception area the moment he heard Rachel at the door. The baby was still alive, and his new receptionist looked quite pleased with herself.
Handing an infant off to a total stranger had been one of his less proud moments, which was saying something, given recent events. He’d regretted it almost as soon as she and the baby had left, but then Chip Helmsley III had shown up, and Bryce had had to put on his game face for two long hours as they went over the details of the wealthy man’s estate and the changes he wanted to make in his will.
“Everything go okay?” Bryce asked Rachel.
Rachel nodded, her brown eyes bright, her cheeks flushed with the cold, and her dark auburn curls bouncing. “Went great. I think Nora likes me. The coffee shop has this funky chandelier thing on the ceiling, and she seemed to get a kick out of it. And we ran into an old friend of mine from high school, so that was fun.”
The relief that Bryce had felt at Rachel’s return spiked into alarm. For all its wealth, Haven Bay was still a small town at heart. Everyone seemed to know each other, and gossip spread like wildfire. “You didn’t tell your friend about the baby, did you?”
“Well, she was right there in the stroller. I couldn’t exactly hide her. Why? Is she supposed to be a secret?”
“Well, not a secret, exactly …” Heat crept up the back of his neck. “I just don’t want anyone to know about her.” The heat intensified as the words echoed in his ears.
Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “So, she’s more like … classified information?”
He hesitated, not sure if she was making fun of him.
Rachel continued. “Covert operations? Restricted access? Do I need some kind of security clearance—”
She was definitely making fun of him.
“Come in and have a seat, Rachel.” He gestured toward his office. “I owe you an explanation for this morning.”
“I’ll say you do,” she agreed cheerfully.
He gave her a sharp glance. He was grateful for the poise she’d shown in managing the situation he’d thrown at her; on the other hand, her confidence was edging toward an irritating cockiness. Maybe she was just pleased with herself for successfully completing her first task at her new job, but it was also possible that a three-minute interview while holding a screaming baby hadn’t really given him a solid sense of her personality.
Or maybe she’d realized she had the upper hand. After the initial surprise had worn off, it must have been clear to her that he was well and truly desperate.
She pushed the stroller into his office and parked it by his desk before digging into her purse and pulling out a handful of bills, coins, and slips of paper.
“Here, I brought you some change and some receipts.” She placed them on his desk and looked up at him with a bright smile as she took off her coat. “Changed her diaper, too, so she’s nice and clean for you. By the way, are you the only Mr. Davidson here? I noticed there’s another office, and the sign outside said—”
“This was my father’s law practice, originally. He died last year.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes widened in what looked like sincere sympathy.
“I haven’t gotten around to getting a new sign,” he muttered, anxious to change the subject. It had been over a year since the senior Davidson had died. Bryce intended to find a new partner eventually and change the sign, but there always seemed to be more urgent matters to deal with. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
Rachel draped the coat over the back of the chair and sat down. Her hands folded neatly in her lap, she looked up at him with a pleasant smile, and for the first time, he got a good look at her.
She was medium height, with a generous chest, a small waist, and plush hips. Her reddish-brown hair fell to her shoulders in a mass of corkscrew curls. She’d pinned them back neatly with a barrette, but he had the sense that they could break loose at any moment. Her hourglass figure was shown off in a fitted pink cashmere twinset and a grey pencil skirt—a nice, professional ensemble. He took in her black pumps and their thin heels with a twinge of guilt; they were indoor office shoes, not pushing-a-stroller-in-November shoes.
She was pretty in the wholesome, polished way of women who’d grown up in this sheltered town. According to her resume, she’d graduated college four years ago, which would make her twenty-six or so, but she looked younger.
More like a babysitter than a receptionist. He grimaced. She’d come for one job and was being handed something quite different, but with any luck, the childcare duties would be temporary. Once the baby was squared away, Rachel would be able to focus on running the office, at least until he had the chance to find someone permanent.
Managing his law off
ice wasn’t exactly rocket science, but it did require discretion, focus, and maturity. Most of all, it required someone whose work style and personality were compatible with his. He needed an assistant who wouldn’t take his blunt manner personally, who could simply get the job done so he could focus on his clients.
He found Rachel’s stare disconcerting. Something about her knowing, inquisitive eyes, and the little smile that hovered somewhere between polite and cheeky, made him wonder if she had the gravitas needed for the job.
He took his seat on the other side of his desk. Rachel gazed serenely back at him. He cleared his throat.
“I’m not in the habit of discussing my personal life with my employees, but in this case, I don’t have much choice. Can I trust you to be discreet?”
He’d thought it was a rhetorical question, but instead of eagerly assuring him that of course she was discreet, Rachel pursed her lips and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling as if mulling the question over.
He leaned over the desk for emphasis and pinned her with a hard stare. “Miss Cohen, as an estate lawyer, I deal with very sensitive client information even on normal days. Furthermore, for the next couple of weeks, I’m going to need you to be more of a personal assistant than a receptionist, meaning you’re going to have access to sensitive information about my life. I need you to promise me you will not talk about anything that goes on in this office with anyone, whether it’s about me, or my clients, or anything. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” she said as if making a momentous decision. She raised her right hand. “I solemnly swear, from this moment forward, I will not gossip about you outside the office. Or in the office, for that matter.”
This was somehow not as reassuring as he might have hoped, but he didn’t have much choice. She didn’t exactly exude seriousness, but it wasn’t her fault he’d forgotten to tell her not to talk about Nora, and so far, she’d done everything he’d asked with good grace. Anyway, he’d already hired her, and he was a man of his word. Unless Rachel truly screwed up, she was his receptionist either until she was ready to quit, or he was able to bring a permanent employee on board.