by J. J. Bella
He arrived at the last room, which was shut behind a set of beautiful, hand-carved double doors.
“And here’s you,” he said.
Opening the door, he revealed a bedroom that was at once cozy and spacious, and bigger than her entire apartment that she shared with Claude. There was a comfy-looking bed with wooden posts, a matching set of dressers, and a large window that looked out over the San Francisco skyline, the blue of the bay visible behind it. The floor was covered in soft, white carpet, and morning light streamed in through the window, giving the room a bright, cheery feeling.
“This is beautiful,” she said, her voice filled with awe.
“Glad you like it,” Peter said. “It’s the guest room, but it doesn’t get much use.”
A moment passed as Molly walked around her new, temporary home; she couldn’t believe she was staying in such a place for the summer.
“Oh, one more thing,” said Peter.
Reaching into the pocket of his dress pants, he withdrew a diamond ring, the large, beautiful stone catching the sunlight that poured in.
“A real ring for a fake engagement,” he said with a smirk, walking over to Molly and holding the ring with his fingertips.
Molly let out a sharp gasp as she looked at the gorgeous ring.
“One thing first,” he said, holding out the ring. “Once this goes on, you’re my fiancée. Which means you need to start introducing yourself as such. You’re going to be a playing a part here, so no letting anyone know what’s really going on.”
“Of course,” said Molly.
“This city seems like a big place, but Silicon Valley’s smaller than it seems, and word travels around fast. If word gets out what’s really going on here, then that’s the end of our arrangement.”
Molly nodded, looking at the ring, feeling as though once it slipped on she would be a different person.
Peter then handed it over to her, and she placed in on her left ring finger, splaying her fingers as she stretched out her arm, trying the ring on for size.
“Looks good,” said Peter.
He took another look at his watch.
“I really need to get going,” he said, starting off for the door. “Get settled, grab some lunch, and make yourself at home. Winnie should be here in an hour or so.”
Peter was about to leave, but stopped just as he reached the door.
“Oh, one last thing,” he said.
Molly unfastened her eyes from the ring and looked up Peter.
“Welcome,” he said with a smile.
7
Molly laid on the bed in her room for a time, the window open, the sounds of the city floating up and around her. Checking the time, she realized she had about an hour to kill before Winnie came home.
She was still nervous about meeting Peter’s daughter. Molly imagined meeting the girl, sticking out her hand to greet her, only for Winnie to cross her arms, stick out her tongue, and dismiss her with a simple “I don’t like her, Daddy.” And that would be the end of this little arrangement.
Hoisting herself off of her bed, Molly chided herself for thinking so negatively. Peter did assure her that Winnie was a good girl, and on top of that, she realized how ridiculous it would be for Winnie to be able to dismiss her so easily. Leaving the room, she felt a little better about her impending first impression.
Molly stuck her head into the dressing room on her floor, looking in awe at the vast array of beautiful gowns hung within. Part of her wanted nothing more than to spend the afternoon trying them on. Closing the door, however, she realized that there’d be time plenty for that later.
Trotting down the stairs, Molly arrived in the living room and took another look at the drab, dated décor. What she’d give to be able to have access to Peter’s wealth in order to give this space a facelift. She walked into the kitchen and prepared a pot of coffee. When it was done, she poured herself a cup and returned to the living room, leaning against the wall, the steaming cup in her hands as she looked over the room, her mind racing with different ideas.
First, that couch would have to go, she thought, taking a small sip of her coffee. Then that coffee table; yuck.
She then scanned the art on the wall, thinking of local artists whose work she’d seen online that would be perfect for the space.
But before she could get too deep into her fantasy, the front doors to the house creaked open. Molly looked up in shock, as though she was in the middle of doing something she shouldn’t. Her eyes shot to an analog clock on the wall, and she realized that this had to be Winnie- but she was early.
Sure enough, a moment after the doors opened, in stepped a beautiful little girl with golden hair and bright blue eyes. She was dressed in a simple pair of red jeans and a sleeveless, blue-and-white striped top. In one hand was a small, black violin case. Entering behind her was the driver who Molly had met earlier.
“Ah, Ms. Brimley,” said the driver, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a trim figure. “We’re back a little early; Winnie’s violin instructor had an emergency.
Winnie looked up at Molly, her mouth a flat line and her eyes slightly narrowed, as if suspicious.
“Anyway,” said the driver. “Winnie, dear, this is Molly Brimley. She’ll be your live-in nanny for the summer.”
Winnie said nothing. Molly quickly realized that she was going to have to be the one to break the silence.
Approaching Winnie, Molly squatted down to her level and extended her hand.
“Hi, Winnie,” she said, affecting a bright and chipper tone. “I’m Ms. Brimley, but you can call me Molly. It’s nice to meet you.”
Winnie looked at her hand, her skeptical expression unchanging.
“Winnie,” said the driver. “Be nice.”
Winnie looked up at the driver, and realizing that there was no way she was getting out of this, shook Molly’s hand, her tiny fingers cold against Molly’s palm.
“Is that fine?” asked Winnie, slipping her hand out of Molly’s.
“That’s fine,” said the driver.
“Good. I’ll be in my room.”
With that, Winnie, violin case in hand, dashed off to the stairs and ran up.
“Warm welcome,” said Molly, rising from where she stood.
“Don’t worry about it,” said the driver. “She’s a shy girl. She’ll warm up to you.”
He extended his hand.
“By the way, I’m Karl.”
“Nice to meet you, Karl,” said Molly, happy for a normal handshake.
“If you need anything, my number’s on the fridge. Don’t hesitate to give me a call.”
“Thanks,” said Molly, grateful for the offer. “Does she need to be anywhere soon?”
“My, yes,” said Karl. “Mr. Randall likes to keep the girl quite busy. I believe she has a piano lesson in an hour or so, and tennis after that. I’d go up there and get her ready to head out. I’ll be taking you to the piano lesson, but the rest are in walking distance- might be nice to spend some time with her, get to know one another, you know?”
“Yeah, good idea.”
“I’m going to go fill up the tank; you might want to go chat with the young lady before it’s time to take her to her lesson. I’ll be back in about fifteen.”
Molly nodded, took a deep breath, and headed up to the second floor. The door to Winnie’s room was shut, and Molly gave it a light rap.
“Yes?” asked the voice on the other side, a child’s voice but with the edge of an annoyed adult.
“Hey, Winnie,” asked Molly. “Can I come in?”
A moment passed.
“Fine.”
Molly opened the door and stepped into a girl’s room done up in bright pinks and contrasted with off-whites. There were dolls and doll’s clothing strewn about, and posters on the wall of the latest girl-oriented cartoons. Winnie sat on the floor, an iPad in her hand as she scrolled through pictures of various toys.
“You about ready to go to your piano lesson?”
&nb
sp; “I guess,” she said, not looking up at Molly.
“OK, good. Because we’re going to leave when Karl gets back.”
“Fine.”
“I’ll, uh, call you when he’s back.”
“OK,” she said, still flipping through her iPad.
Molly slowly stepped out of the room, as though Winnie were going to explode at her at any moment.
She headed back down the stairs and picked up her coffee cup, the liquid within now cool enough to drink.
I suppose “icy indifference” is preferable to “outright hostility,” thought Molly as she turned her attention back to the décor. After a time, she stepped back into the kitchen, added Karl’s number to her phone, and finished the sips of her coffee.
A little later, Karl stepped back into the house.
“You ladies ready?” he asked.
Molly was about to fetch Winnie, but as she turned to head up the stairs, she saw that Winnie had already come down and was wearing a pink and white backpack.
“I’m ready, Karl,” she said, not looking at Winnie.
Karl gave Molly a knowing look, having noticed Winnie’s game.
“Then let’s go.”
The trio made their way to the car, Molly and Winnie hopping in the back seat.
Karl took his place, and within moments, the car was through the wrought-iron gate and back onto a wide boulevard leading to downtown.
“You like playing piano?” asked Molly.
“It’s fine,” said Winnie, her eyes on the passing city.
“What kind of stuff do you like to play?”
“Anything. I don’t care.”
“Didn’t you just finish perfecting that Brahms piece?” asked Karl from the front. “Your teacher said you had it down perfectly.”
“Oh, I did!” said Winnie, her expression vibrant. “It’s the etude number…um, seven, I think. It was really hard, but Ms. Penrose said I did it perfectly.”
“Very good!” said Karl.
Molly felt the air suck out of her lungs, but as she looked up at the rearview mirror, she saw Karl give her another look, one that seemed to say “see? She’s fine; she’ll warm up to you eventually.”
They came to a stop at a particularly busy intersection downtown.
“Here we are,” said Karl. “I’ll be back to pick you ladies up at around three.”
“Bye, Karl!” said Winnie, waving as she clambered out of the car.
But as soon as Karl drove off, Winnie’s smile faded.
“You ready for piano?” asked Molly.
“No.,” said Winnie. “I want ice cream.”
Molly checked her watch as saw that there was absolutely no time for that, even if it weren’t still morning.
“Maybe after your lessons,” she said.
“No!” said Winnie, stomping her foot on the sidewalk as the bustling pedestrians walked around them.
Molly felt anxiety wrap its icy fingers around her stomach; she was worried that Winnie might decide to bolt- not the best way to start off the first day with the boss’s daughter.
“Winnie, you know you have your lesson,” said Molly taking on a stern tone. “And you know your daddy and Karl won’t be happy if you skip it.”
This seemed to make some sense to Winnie.
“How about we go to your lessons, and after we can get a snack?”
A moment passed, the din of the city swirling around them.
“Fine,” said Winnie.
“Good.”
Molly checked the address to the lesson on her phone and the two of them headed in. Once Winnie was in the care of Mrs. Penrose, Molly let out a sigh of relief. Stepping back onto the busy city street, she decided to grab a cup of coffee and do some reading until the lesson was over. The time flew by, and soon it was time to retrieve Winnie.
“How was the lesson?” asked Molly.
“Fine,” said Winnie, Molly secretly hoping that she would get a different response.
The two made their way to a nearby park, a gentle breeze picking up as they arrived at the tennis courts. But a toy store across the street caught Winnie’s attention.
“I want to go there,” said Winnie, pointing with a little finger at the eye-catching store.
Molly wanted to sigh, but thought better of it.
“Winnie, we can go there after the lesson.”
“But I don’t even like tennis,” she said. “I want to go toy shopping!”
Before the scene could get any worse, Winnie’s coach came by and intervened.
“Hey, champ,” said the coach, a strapping, middle-aged man with a shaved head and handsome face. “You ready to play?”
“I guess,” said Winnie.
Molly let out a rush of air- saved by the coach.
“We’ll be done in an hour or so,” said the coach.
“OK, great, thanks,” said Molly. “And thanks for, um, you know.”
He raised his hand smiled, as if to say “don’t even worry about it.” Molly handed over the bag containing Winnie’s racquet and her tennis clothes, and the coach took them.
Holding Winnie’s hand, the coach brought her over to a group of young girls on the court, all holding racquets. Alone once again, Molly took a stroll through the park, enjoying the lovely weather until the time came to pick up Winnie. Molly arrived just as the girls were breaking up, the courts bustling with parents and children. Winnie trotted up to Molly, now wearing her tennis outfit and toting her racquet in its case.
“I want ice cream now,” she said.
“We can get ice cream, but only if you’re polite.”
“Fine, can we get ice cream pleeeease?” she asked, dragging out the word.
“We can.”
The two made their way over to nearby ice cream truck, and Molly bought a couple of tall vanilla cones, the ice cream spiraling so high that Molly worried it might topple over. Winnie happily set into the ice cream, her mood improving with each bite. And as they sat in the park, Winnie spotted one of her favorite vintage clothing stores across the street. Sensing an opportunity, Molly posed a question.
“Do you like playing dress up, Winnie?”
“Kind of,” she said, the tip of her nose white with ice cream.
Molly could tell that she was intrigued, though trying to play it nonchalant.
“Well, I do. I think I might go across the street and find some new clothes to buy.”
Winnie was busy with her ice cream, but Molly could tell by Winnie’s side-eyed look that she was interested.
“Want to come with?”
“Hmm, OK,” said Winnie, taking a bite of her waffle cone.
The two made their way across the street, finishing their cones on the way. Molly led Winnie into the store, Second Chance Vintage, which was full of clothing and trinkets.
Winnie beelined for a fuchsia boa that was draped on an antique chair. She picked it up and tossed it around her neck.
“Looks pretty good,” said Molly. “Go check yourself out.”
She pointed to a nearby mirror. Winnie walked over to it and spun around, the boa trailing behind her as she laughed. Molly removed a straw hat decorated with red glitter from a coat rack and placed it on her head.
“What do you think about this?” asked Molly, tipping the brim and cocking her hips.
“Silly,” said Winnie, a smile breaking out across her face.
The two of them rummaged through the clothing in the store, finding the silliest hats and accessories they could find and trying to make the other laugh. Molly threw on a big, black top hat and a pair of novelty sunglasses, and Winnie found a motorcycle helmet that was too big for her head. Time flew by as they had their fun, and after an hour had passed, Molly received a text from Karl. She replied with the address, and within ten minutes she had arrived. Winnie strolled out of the store, the boa that Molly had bought for her draped around her shoulders, her eyes hidden behind a pair of hot pink sunglasses. She walked towards the car with the strut of a celebrity, and
Molly couldn’t help but laugh.
Karl led to two the car, giving Molly a knowing smile when he saw that she’d managed to make some progress with Winnie.
“You girls have fun?” he asked as the two settled into their seats.
“Yeah!” said Winnie, followed by a long recounting of their day.
Molly sat back in her seat as they drove back to the house, her mind a little more at ease than it had been a few short hours ago.
8
The next few days flew by in a rush. Molly’s mornings consisted of getting up around seven and getting Winnie off to her morning lessons. Making breakfast wasn’t part of her job, but when she decided to put together a quick meal of cheesy scrambled eggs and toast and saw that Peter set into it hungrily before rushing off to work, getting the impression that he was the type to skip meals unless there was food placed in front of him, she decided to make it part of her normal routine.
During the first lessons of the day, Molly would return to the house and tidy up, work on her portfolio, and get a little reading done when she could. Between the morning lessons and the afternoon, Molly would make a little lunch for her and Winnie, usually a sandwich and some fruit, though the previous day Molly and Winnie bought an oversized Mission-style burrito and ate it together in the park.
The afternoon was more lessons, and for these Molly stayed in the area, making sure she was there to greet Winnie when she was done.
Her attempts at getting on Winnie’s good side were paying off; Winnie loved to play dress-up, read her books, and watch her cartoons on TV, and once Molly found the way to her heart, she was happy to indulge her.
Peter was a whirlwind of work. As an entrepreneur, he set his own hours. But far from having an easy-going schedule, this simply meant that nearly every free hour was filled with some sort of business. He spent most of the day driving around the city attending meetings of one sort or another, and aside from the usual dinner of delivered food, his evenings were spent in his office, making phone calls and going over proposals.
“You two seem to be hitting it off,” said Peter, emerging from his office to prepare a pot of coffee, noticing that Molly and Winnie were in the middle of another session of going through Winnie’s extensive wardrobe.