To keep myself from rushing back downstairs, I call Sadie.
“I’ve been thinking about you. Was he home tonight?” No “Hello” and “How are you” for Sadie. She believes in getting straight to the point.
I’ve talked to my friend every night since I arrived here, and every night I’ve had to disappoint her and say that Ronan came home after I was in bed.
“We ate dinner together, then we played a game and put Belle to sleep. He’s so freaking hot and quietly funny and nice, and I have a full-blown crush. This is bad,” I say, flopping into the bed. I whisper-squeal all this into the phone because I’d be mortified if Ronan overheard me.
“I knew it. I knew he would be like that.” Sadie sighs. “Is he like he was in that movie about the spies? You know the one, where he mostly grunts, but you can tell by the tone of his grunts and the way he stares longingly at the heroine and how he’s all gruff and protective that he’s secretly sweet and sensitive underneath all those muscles?”
“Um, sort of?” I fib. Because she nailed it. That’s exactly what he’s like. But I’m mindful that I need to walk the line between sharing with Sadie and protecting Ronan’s privacy.
“Poppy O’Brien, stop being vague.”
“Okay, okay!” It only takes two seconds to break me. I guess it’s not so bad for her to know he’s perfect. “Yes. God, yes. That’s exactly what he’s like.Exactly.”
I close my eyes. “But I’m just the nanny, and not even a real one. I’m temporary. I need to keep a professional distance.”
Sadie laughs.
“What?” I say, offended.
“Poppy, you’re many things. Sweet and loyal. A do-gooder. And you have puppy-like enthusiasm for the things you love. But you are not good at keeping a professional distance. You treat every person you meet as if they were your long-lost best friend, or you adopt them and try to solve all their problems.”
“That’s not true.” Well, maybe it is a little. “You think I’m like a puppy? I’m not sure how I feel about that.” I think for a minute. “What kind?”
“A golden retriever,” she says right away. She’s clearly considered this before.
“Huh.” I can’t be mad. They are super cute, and I do have reddish-gold hair. “Thank you. I think.” I pause. “Well, you’d be a—” I shake my head even though she can’t see me. “You’d be a cat, not a dog.”
“I don’t like cats,” she snorts. “Youdon’t even like cats.”
“I do, just not as much as dogs. You’re like a cat because you’re independent and you don’t take shit from anyone. Plus, I’m not one hundred percent sure that you actually like people, despite being in the retail business.”
“That’s exactly why I dislike people.” She exhales a heavy breath into the phone. “Fine. Maybe I am more like a cat. But don’t change the subject.”
The silence lengthens until I break it with a soft, “Sadie?”
“Hm?”
“Am I going to get super hurt when this is all over?”
“Probably. But what’s the alternative? You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t jump in and try to help, Poppy. Besides, you’d be the stupidest girl in the world to pass up this experience.”
“Even if it ends with no man ever living up to Ronan Masters and me being by myself forever and dying alone?”
“Stop being so dramatic. We can live together when we’re old and alone. I’m a cat lady, remember?”
“True,” I agree. And with that life plan sorted, I change the subject.
“So what did I miss on Main Street today?”
CHAPTER12
42 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS
Ronan
I hobble up the stairs,feeling like a one-hundred-year-old man. I spent my day and night waiting for hours for my scenes, punctuated by brief bursts of activity and pain.
