“How dare you? Give her to me.” The woman held out her arms. “Time to go, sweetheart.”
Charlotte didn’t squirm to get down or shift to move into her nanny’s arms. Instead, she turned and wrapped her arms and legs around Delaney, koala-style, burying her face against her shoulder.
The woman’s expression hardened. “Charlotte, come here. Now.”
“She doesn’t want to go with you,” Delaney said quietly. What kind of caregiver inspired this level of resistance?
“She’s not your kid.” The woman dug in her purse for her phone, then stepped closer, her voice rising. “Put her down or I’ll call the police.”
Her shout drew the attention of curious onlookers, whose gazes darted between Delaney and this distractible caretaker. Moms and dads and babysitters, all looking at Delaney as if she were in the wrong. All but one woman, whose expression held nothing but compassion when she met Delaney’s eyes.
Maybe Delaney had an ally, one in a sea of angry faces.
Getting arrested would certainly slam the final nail in her Driftwood coffin.
But Charlotte wasn’t letting go. And Delaney didn’t want her to.
There was nothing for it now. Delaney wasn’t going to leave this precious child with an inept, and now angry, nanny. “Go ahead, and after you do that, call her parents. They should know what kind of woman they trusted their child to.”
“You think I won’t?” The woman started tapping on her phone. “You’re gonna end up in jail, lady.”
Maybe, but if it meant Charlotte was safe…
The child’s tight grip suddenly eased. She spoke over Delaney’s shoulder. “It’s the pretty lady.”
Delaney had no idea what she was talking about, but the nanny’s eyes widened, and her flushed cheeks paled.
“I was just about to call you, sir.”
Someone approached from the side and stopped a few feet away.
Delaney glanced and realized with a sinking feeling that it was Mr. Aylett, the man who’d taken one look at her and decided she wasn’t worth five minutes of his time.
And then relief washed over her. He must’ve been the one watching Charlotte. Odd that he’d hidden, but at least he took his daughter’s safety seriously.
He wore a business suit and tie, his gray eyes sweeping the scene: Charlotte clinging to Delaney, the nanny clutching her phone, the small crowd of onlookers pretending not to stare. When his gaze landed on Delaney, something flickered across his features, gone before she could name it.
“It’s the pretty lady,” Charlotte said again. She was no longer clinging to Delaney, but still, she hadn’t done the kid-wiggle that said she wanted down.
Mr. Aylett squared off with the nanny. “Explain.”
The woman took a few brave steps toward him, her artificial smile back in place. “Thank goodness you’re here. This woman”—she gestured toward Delaney—“snatched Charlotte right off the playground. I was trying to get her back when?—”
“That’s not what happened.” Delaney’s voice came out strong despite her anxiety.
Charlotte’s father turned to look at her. “Go on.”
The nanny said, “Sir?—”
“You had your say.” Mr. Aylett nodded at Delaney. “Please.”
Seemed he wascapableof being polite, despite how he’d treated her at their first meeting.
“Charlotte wandered toward the street while her caregiver was focused on her phone. I brought her back to keep her safe.”
Mr. Aylett’s piercing gaze held her eye contact for a long moment before shifting back to the nanny. “To this, you say…?”
“She’s lying.”
