by Kate Aster
“My pleasure. I’m surprised you didn’t go with that family you stayed with while you were here. It’s such a family-friendly type of thing to do.”
I sigh. “Well, they went once. But I stayed behind.”
“Ouch.”
“No—that’s normal. It’s important for families to get some alone time, you know? Away from the nanny. That way when they transition back to their lives without me, it won’t seem too unusual.”
His eyes narrow thoughtfully. “I never thought about it like that before. That must have been strange, you know? To be acting like a part of the family, but not really a part of it.”
Something in my gut pangs slightly. It was hard, and it feels good to have it acknowledged by someone.
“You fall in love sometimes,” I admit. “With the kids. Sometimes with the whole family. And you always have to say good-bye in the end. That’s why I wanted to go into teaching, eventually. To be able to be a part of kids’ lives without actually living with them. To put a little distance between my work life and my real life. The Shimozatos were my first, you know? And when I had to say good-bye to them, I knew that being a nanny for too much longer would kill me. That’s when I decided to take a nanny job in D.C. so I could go to night classes there.”
“Do you keep in touch with the Shimozatos?”
“Oh, yeah. Not a lot, but Christmas cards and a few emails. The kids are growing so fast. But they still look thick as thieves. Like you and your brothers. I loved that. Always wished I had brothers or sisters.”
“What about your parents? You never talk about them.”
“Oh, when I was growing up, they were great.” I shrug. “We don’t keep in very close contact since I left Missouri, though. We email and text. Maybe a call once a month. I think they thought I’d always stick around there. Most of my classmates from school did. You know, bloom where they were planted. I think that disappointed them. And then the whole D.C. thing happened. I’m not sure if they believe me sometimes. They say they do, but I can hear something in their voices. That flicker of doubt, you know?” I cut myself off, remembering the little girl in the back seat. I glance behind me, only to see her enjoying an unscheduled nap.
“Yeah, that must have be rough,” Cam says.
I offer a slight nod. “There was this part of me that just wanted them to say, ‘Come home, honey.’ You know—to feel like I had someplace to just retreat to. But they said pretty much the opposite. It was more like, ‘Stay away. This is a small town and tongues are already wagging over it.’”
From the corner of my eye, I see his frown.
“They might just be trying to protect you,” he tells me.
I stare wordlessly out the windshield for a moment, thinking. “Maybe. I’ve thought of that myself, actually. But there’s this part of me that wants…” I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“I get it,” he says, surprising me.
“You do?” I scoff. “Then would you mind explaining it to me?”
He grins. “We’re all just little kids on the inside, wanting to go home when things get tough. Hell, even me. Ranger School and countless missions with the Regiment and there’s still this little kid inside of me that wants my parents to shield me from the world like they did when I was a kid.” He pauses. “When I was a first lieutenant, I was engaged. Briefly. She left me while I was deployed. And my first instinct was to go home and sulk in my room for a week the first time I had leave.”
“And did you?”
“Yep. Gained ten pounds in one week. No kidding. Eating nothing but mom’s stew and drinking crappy beer with my dad,” he adds.
“Is that why you say you’ll never settle down?”
His head tilts thoughtfully. “Guess so. After that, the idea of it just never appealed.” He takes my hand. “Call me selfish, but I’m glad you ended up here for a while.”
For a while. I don’t disregard those words. Ten minutes later, I’m still playing them over in my head as he walks me to the door of my car and brushes a light kiss to my cheek as he holds a sleeping Stella in his arms.
“See you tomorrow?”
Taking in the sight of him one last time—it will have to hold me over till tomorrow—I nod before I retreat to my car. My heart is full and warm and dangerously needy for a girl who keeps saying she wants to leave this island as soon as she can.
I pull off to the Foodland parking lot and dial Sam.
She answers with, “You know, when you return to D.C., I might actually get a full night’s sleep again.”
My eyes flash with guilt until I look at my watch and do a quick calculation. “Since when do you go to bed this early?”
“Since it started raining four days ago nonstop here, making me want to curl up and sleep all day. I swear, I hate this city in the rain. So, what’s up in sunny paradise?”
For a moment, I contemplate before speaking, deciding to skip telling her that it’s sunny as always here on the Kona side of the island, and that I’ve spent my day bobbing around on a catamaran looking at whales. “I’m falling into dangerous territory here, Sam,” I say instead.
“You’re falling for him.” She states it as a fact. Not a question.
“Hard not to. How do I keep reminding myself that I’m not sticking around here?”
She sighs. “Look, I don’t want to ask the obvious, but why the hell not?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’d love for you to come back here—believe me. But it’s wet and miserable right now, so I’m having a hard time kind of selling it to you.”
“I can’t live here. I can’t even get a job here.”
“But you’re starting a business,” she counters. “That’s something.”
“I want to get my master’s.”
“So get it online.”
“But—” I pause, trying to push away the image of him holding Stella today. “I’m just fooling myself. He’s not looking for anything serious. He made that pretty clear.”
For a while. Wasn’t that what he just said?
“You’re sure?”
“Painfully sure.”
She sighs on the other end. “Well, then don’t get too use to that sunshine. Because it’s dark and cloudy here in our nation’s capital. And when you come back here, I don’t want to hear you complaining about it.”
Chapter 21
- CAMDEN -
Since Stella came along, I feel like my condo—and my life—has taken on a very different vibe.
Gone are the days when my brothers and I would just hang out with a few beers on the lanai, or play poker as perfectly seasoned steaks sizzle on our barbeque.
Now, there’s usually a half-finished game of Candyland on the coffee table, a purple dinosaur singing in the background on the TV, and at least two Legos embedded in my foot. And my brothers usually vacate the premises as often as they can.
Like right now.
“Where are you going?” I ask when I come down from my bedroom only to see them both already grabbing their keys after returning home just minutes ago.
Stella is at preschool, and Annie is babysitting for a vacationing family who had seen one of her fliers. So I’ve locked myself in my bedroom the past few hours, designing a babysitting website. Annie might make a big deal about me doing this for her. But in reality, it’s a breeze for me. And after taking a handful of photos of Annie and her friend Kaila yesterday, I’ve got everything I need.
But what I also need is a few minutes alone with my brothers.
“Out,” they answer me in unison.
“Look, I need to talk to you guys.”
“Can it wait till tomorrow?” Fen asks, glancing at his watch.
“Yeah, I’m on shift at the clinic in a few,” Dodger concurs.
“That’s what you guys said yesterday and the day before. And I need to talk to you without Stella around.”
Concern pinches Dodger’s brow. “What is it? Is Stella okay?”
Even F
en halts in his tracks.
“Stella’s fine.” I watch my brothers’ shoulders sink in relief. “It’s about Annie.”
Dodger tucks in his chin. “She dumped you. Dammit, Cam. I told you this was going to happen.” He seems almost pleased as he says it, and I’m wondering if it’s because he likes to be right, or if it’s because he’s already planning on asking her out himself.
It’s probably both.
“She didn’t dump me. Sorry to disappoint you.”
“She asked for a raise?” Fen guesses. “I mean, I would if I had to take care of a kid and put up with you.”
“Guys, this is serious. Can you quit the jokes?”
“I was serious,” Fen deadpans. “What is it? She okay?”
“She’s fine. But there’s something you guys need to know about her.” I back up toward the living room and take a seat on our sectional, hoping they’ll follow. “Back on the mainland, she was a nanny for some senator in D.C. under her full name of Arianna Bradshaw.”
I tell them the whole story, and within moments, they’re reaching for their iPads as if they can’t have a serious conversation without the warmth of modern technology in their hands.
“Holy crap. This doesn’t look good.” Fen comments after punching in Annie’s name into Google and pulling up the photo of her in the car with that lech. “You’re sure she really didn’t screw around with the guy? I mean, it—”
“Of course she didn’t,” Dodger snaps before I can as he looks at the photo. “This is Annie we’re talking about. And look at the way her hands are. They’re splayed out on the front of him, like she’s pushing him away rather than pulling him closer. Only an idiot wouldn’t see that.” His comment is pointed at Fen.
“Then I guess the news networks are crawling with idiots,” I tell him, “because that’s what they’ve got everyone believing.”
“Why didn’t she just tell the truth?” Dodger’s forehead creases as he looks at me.
“She tried, but no one believed her after he held that press conference. I mean, it wouldn’t make sense for him to confess to an affair if he didn’t do it.”
“Nothing that happens in D.C. makes much sense,” Fen points out.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Dodger agrees.
“Is that why the Queen K let her go? I kind of wondered about that, but didn’t want to pry.”
“Yeah, that’s why,” I answer. “Some mainlander recognized her and complained.”
Dodger’s eyes turn to narrow slits as he looks at me. “Ah, shit. You’re going after this guy, aren’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”
Fen’s gaze moves to Dodger. “Do you blame him?”
“Nope. In fact, I’m in. That whole Do-No-Harm oath I took when I became a doctor has an exclusion clause for shithead senators.”
I smile, liking that my brothers share my thinking. “Much as I’ve considered wiping the pavement with his face, that won’t get Annie’s life back in order.” Even though it would sure make me feel good, I want to add, but don’t.
“So what are you going to do to set the record straight?” Dodger challenges.
I nod, glad we’re on the same page. “Annie just wants to see if this all blows over. I mean, he’s a senator. It’s not like he’s the president or something.”
“Yet,” Dodger adds, his eyes on his iPad. “This guy seemed to be his party’s favorite for the next election until all this happened.”
“Yeah, and he’ll be the party favorite again within the year after this bullshit confession,” Fen adds, watching a video on YouTube. “People forget in that town. It’s like politicians get an automatic pass.”
Dodger glances down at the story he pulled up. “But his wife filed for divorce the next day. She didn’t give him a pass.”
“But he’s right back at work like always,” I point out. “It won’t be that way for Annie because she’s taking care of kids. She was almost hired by this really good school out in D.C.—it was her dream job, right? But they don’t want a teacher there if they think they’ll need to worry that she’s screwing around with a parent. They’ve got a reputation they need to maintain.”
“Like the Queen K,” Fen grumbles. “Never did like that place.”
“So here’s the thing that bugs me.” Leaning forward, my fingers lace together on my lap. “Why is there just one picture that was released? I mean, no one stalks a senator and takes just one photo. There must be others.”
Fen’s eyebrows rise. “And if there are others, then they probably show her fighting him off or something like that.”
“My thinking exactly,” I agree.
“So, who took the photo?” Dodger asks.
“I called the network that broke the story,” I answer. “I even threw around the Sheridan name, but got nothing out of them.”
Dodger taps a few things into his iPad. “It’s the wife. Probably hired some P.I. to follow him.”
My eyes dart to him as he affirms my theory. “Why do you think so?”
“Look at these articles about her. She hasn’t got a job, but loves to be surrounded by luxury. She’s a total society maven. Says she’s a stay-at-home mom but needs a live-in nanny? I mean, come on. Who does that?”
“Okay, so she’s not like any mom we’ve known. But that doesn’t mean she did it,” I point out, playing the devil’s advocate. I need my brothers to think this through from every angle like I have.
“Yeah, but think about it,” Fen agrees with Dodger. “Who else could it be? If it was paparazzi or a reporter trying to break a story, or even someone trying to ruin his career, they would have released photos of Annie fighting him off. That’s a better story than just some senator boinking a nanny.”
“But—” Dodger picks up my brother’s line of reasoning, “—if someone got ahold of photos of him assaulting his nanny… now there’s a story, right? He’d need to resign, especially with all the headlines these days. He’d say bye-bye to his paycheck and this nice home they featured in Architectural Digest,” Dodger finishes, lowering his chin to one of the headlines that popped up on his iPad.
“But if the wife just wanted grounds for divorce and a nice settlement to keep her living in luxury forever…”
“…which she wouldn’t be able to do if his career was ruined by an assault charge…” I toss in.
“…then she’d only use the photo that made it look like he was having an affair,” Fen finishes, then raises a single eyebrow at me. “But you must have already figured that out.”
I nod. “I’ve been thinking it, but didn’t want to talk to Annie about it until I made sure I wasn’t grasping at straws here. But what cinched it for me is something Annie said.”
“What’s that?”
“It was the wife’s suggestion that he drive Annie to her night class that night it happened. You know he’s screwing around elsewhere. Those who cheat will cheat again, right? And what wife would send their husband out at night alone with their cute nanny if she suspected her husband was cheating?” I suggest.
Dodger frowns. “I bet she’s been trying to get photos like this one for a while now. He’s probably just pretty good at covering his tracks. But when he was alone with a tasty morsel like Annie, he couldn’t resist.”
I scowl at the sound of Dodger referring to her as a tasty morsel.
“So what are we going to do about it?” Dodger adds before I can rebuke him.
I let out a pained sigh. “I need to get my hands on those photos. What do you think the chances are that the wife’s still got them?”
“One hundred percent. At least until her divorce is final. So long as she’s got those photos, he’s a cuckold. He’ll give her whatever she wants.”
“How’s Annie holding up through all this?” Dodger’s brow pinches with concern.
“Getting fired by the Queen K was a blow after all she’s been through. But she’s partnered up with a friend and they’re hoping to expand the babysitting business a bit. I’m starting to think
she’s one of those girls who could fall in a pile of crap and come out smelling like a rose.”
Fen leans back. “You know, if you get this all straightened out for her, she might go back to D.C., Cam.”
“Yeah. Well, that’s her plan.” I force a shrug. “She wants to get back to her life there.”
“And this doesn’t bother you?” Dodger asks.
“Why would it?” I keep my tone casual. “I know she’s not looking for anything permanent, and she knows I’m not either.”
Fen’s brow rises. “Girl after my own heart. I can’t believe you got to her first.”
“Let’s just hope she sticks around till Stella leaves,” Dodger adds.
Shifting in my seat, I reach for the remote on the coffee table just to have something in my hands to fiddle with. I’m less concerned about my need for a babysitter than I am worried about this apparent addiction I’ve developed to Annie. Babysitters can be found with a simple web search. But girls like Annie are a little harder to find.
Chapter 22
~ ANNIE ~
Cam looks a little like a pack animal as we walk along the broken up lava path toward the shoreline. In one hand, he carries a cooler, and on his back, he’s got a rucksack filled with God-knows what.
“There’s no mistaking we’re on a volcano here, is there?” I mention, looking down at the hard lava beneath my feet.
“Yep. This lava was from Mauna Loa’s 1859 eruption.”
I glance upward toward him. “How’d you know that?”
His shrug is barely noticeable beneath the rucksack. “I read up on the island a lot. I get so many questions from tourists at the bar. I don’t want to sound too much like the haole I am.”
Once again, I reach for the cooler. “I can carry that, Cam.”
He jerks his hand away. “Nope. I packed it. I carry it.”
It’s just heavy enough that I don’t fight him about it. “You know, there are plenty of beaches we could have driven to.”
“Not like this one.”
Fifteen minutes later, when we arrive there, I see why it’s worth the hike. There’s not a person in sight. Anywhere.