“Just what I told you. I have to move on at some point.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like you to leave a lady in the lurch like that.”
“She needs a nanny, Dad. Not a lift from the airport.”
“I know, you smart ass.”
“I’m just saying. This is more of a commitment.”
“How much commitment can you handle?”
Rafe didn’t respond right away. Yeah, he had plans, or he was planning to have plans, but he hadn’t put those plans into motion yet. He wanted to relax some more. Spend time with his sisters and parents. It had taken him two weeks to switch off and his internal clock still had him rising at six to get four kids out the door on time. He was in recovery mode, not start a new career mode.
“I can give her to the end of the year.”
“There you go. Let her know up front and then she’ll have plenty of time to find your replacement.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do that. Let me go call her.”
“Bring me a water on your way back.”
“A water?” Rafe asked, shocked. His dad’s sophisticated thirst could usually only be quenched with Coors, black coffee or knock-off grocery store Mountain Dew, which he drank proudly if he was feeling festive. He was surprised the old man didn’t glow in the dark.
His dad was suddenly interested in his tool box. “Apparently dehydration is a thing. Your mom says I have to drink more water or find a new wife.”
Rafe didn’t even bother to cover his laugh. “Water it is.” But first he had to give Dr. Sloan Copeland a call.
2
Sloan tried to get comfortable in the McDonald’s booth, but it wasn’t working. The last few days had been stressful as fuck and her nerves were fried. Drew had taken the news about Tess surprisingly well. Sloan was shocked that he didn’t attribute her shady exit to something Sloan had done, but he did manage to slide in a few predictable jabs about how none of this would have happened if she’d stayed in Seattle.
That was her cue to end their call. She told him she’d be in touch when she found someone new, then “accidentally” hung up on him. As she tried to force herself to get some sleep, she reconsidered Xeni’s offer. Maybe she could put a hex on Drew. She woke up the next morning with both girls in her bed. They got clingy when they were stressed out. She wanted to strangle Tess anew, but she had to move on.
She sat close to the entrance with an eye on the twisting tubes and ladders of the Play Place. She glanced at Avery talking with their sitter, Stacia, before looking back at the door. They were early. She still lived by her father’s mantra: five minutes early was late. She didn’t know how true that was until she had kids. She’d given herself plenty of time to get the girls ready and out the door so they would be on time to meet with Rafe Whitcomb.
Sloan had never considered hiring a male nanny, but when her friend and Xeni’s fellow teacher Sarah insisted he was perfect for the job andavailable, she knew she’d be a fool not to check him out. Especially when all the other avenues she’d tried had come up empty.
Her colleagues at the medical center had a few recommendations for babysitters and she’d signed up for a childcare service, but their extensive vetting process left her in a bind for the coming weeks. She needed someone now. He’d called while she was busy with a consult, but when she found a few minutes to call him back, they’d had a pretty good talk.
He was thirty-four and had just finished working with a family who had decided to move overseas. He’d recently updated his first-aid and CPR certifications. Sloan was impressed by the thorough questions he had for her, beyond the girls’ ages and food allergies. He wanted to know upfront exactly what she expected from him, her parenting style, and her day-to-day vision for how he not only fit into the girls’ lives, but hers as well.
She ignored the weird tingle that line of questioning shot up her spine, just like she ignored the sexiness of his deep voice, with its hint of a Boston accent. The focus was finding a nanny for her kids, not a phone sex buddy for herself.
She also appreciated that he didn’t flinch when she asked about his political leanings. No politics, no religion, no money mentions were a thing of the past. Rafe might be qualified, but she was trying to raise two young, biracial Black girls and she’d be damned if she let someone who was a fan of walls and assault rifles and playing fast and loose with general human rights spend that kind of time around them.
He explained then that at fifteen he’d been picked up on an auto theft charge and spent six months in juvenile detention camp. Prison and police reform were things he held close to his heart. Sloan hadn’t expected him to come with a criminal past, but he was upfront about it, explaining that it didn’t appear on his background check since he’d been a minor. It was his one and only offense, and from the details he gave her, it sounded more like an instance of a young kid trying to fit in in a new city than the backstory of a violent criminal mastermind.
By the end of their conversation, she was satisfied that Rafe seemed competent and capable. And honest. She was further impressed when Haylene Craig called her not an hour later to give Rafe a glowing recommendation. He’d watched her children before he’d been employed by the Bakers, who also emailed that evening to say that having Rafe with their family had been a wonderful experience and that they missed him terribly.
After she put the girls to bed, she called Rafe again and asked if he’d be interested in meeting them on Saturday morning to see if they all meshed well. They agreed on the McDonald’s near her house and that if they could execute phase one of the in-person interview without incident, they’d move on to phase two.
Sloan had tried to stalk him on social media, but she couldn’t find much. Mostly pictures of motorcycles and baked goods that he’d prepared. She was able to find a few candid pictures confirming that he was a white guy with red hair, but he clearly wasn’t the type to upload a bunch of selfies.
Sloan checked her phone one more time, absently registering the sound of a motorcycle that had just pulled in the parking lot. Technically they weren’t supposed to meet for another five minutes, but she was ready to get on with it. Movement at the top of the jungle gym tube caught her eye. Sure enough, Addison had managed to scale the outside. Just as she was about to hop up, Stacia was on it. Addison made a face as she shimmied backwards and back into a large hole in the green plastic.
“Dr. Copeland?”
Sloan almost dislocated her neck as she whipped her head around at the sound of a newly familiar voice. If pictures were worth a thousand words, the few pictures she’d seen of Rafe Whitcomb had left out some pretty important details. They didn’t tell her that he was easily six foot five or that he was covered in tattoos from wrist to neck. They did clue her in to the motorcycle thing. She might have been staring up at his bright blue eyes, but that didn’t stop her from catching a glimpse of the motorcycle helmet hanging from his long, thick fingers. Those lying ass pictures left out the part where he’d grown a perfectly thick, gloriously manicured beard.
