Page 92 of The Billionaire’s Nanny

LUCY

Any other morning, she'd have been down the path and back in the cottage by twenty to six.

Lucy woke at ten past six with both lamps still on. The other side of the bed was cold and the covers on it were pulled straight. She hadn’t heard Carrington get up. She lay there a minute with her hand on the warm side of the bed. What she wanted was the whole day in front of her with none of it needing to be handled. Then she got up.

Lucy dressed in yesterday's clothes and grabbed her coat off the chair. The stuffed rabbit's ears were still sticking out of the pocket. At the top of the stairs, she remembered that she had no reason to be quiet, not anymore. But she still walked downstairs on the outside edges of the stairs on her tiptoes of her socked feet anyway. At this point, it was muscle memory.

The kitchen light was lit down at the far end of the room. Bettina had come in and not yet taken her coat off. She was setting the oven. She looked up when Lucy came through the door, then went back to the dial.

"Morning," Bettina said.

"Morning."

"There's fresh coffee made."

Lucy took a cup out of the cupboard, the same mug she'd been using since February. Then she held on to it a second longer. Those were the cups the staff used. She put it back and took one off the shelf above.

"Is Grace taking her lunch today or buying?" Bettina said.

"Buying. On Fridays, she buys." Lucy poured the coffee. "Bettina."

"I know."

"Then don't ask me that."

"I asked because you're the one who knows the answer." Bettina shut the oven door with her knee. "Somebody in this house has to know it. It isn't going to be me."

Lucy poured the coffee and walked over to the island. She'd stood at that island every morning since she started working here, a mental list running through her mind. This morning, she had the mug of coffee but no list. She had no idea what to do with her hands, so she put the cup down and picked it up again.

"You were out in that driveway waiting a while last night," she said.

"I was."

"Say what's on your mind then."

"I've been in this house a long time." Bettina took the milk out of the fridge and set it down next to Lucy, even though Lucy didn't ask for it. "Ms. Cole walked outside to the car to talk to me, the help. I've been trying since eleven o'clock to think of one other time she'd have done it, and I can't think of one."

"Is that all of it?"

"No," Bettina said. "It's not. But it's all you're getting out of me before I've taken my coat off."

At twenty past seven, Carrington came into the room, already in a suit with her hair up. She stopped four feet short of the island and stayed there, with Bettina standing over at the stove. Lucy had been grateful for that distance for months. This morning, she wanted it gone.

"Bettina," Carrington said. "Grace is up. She's getting dressed."

"She's early."

"She's been awake since about five. She came down and got the pad off the counter and took it back up." Carrington put both hands flat on the counter. "Would you give us fifteen minutes with her before you take her to school?"

"I'll get the car ready," Bettina said. She took her keys off the peg and went out across the courtyard, pulling the door shut behind her instead of letting it swing.

Grace came downstairs at half past with her shoes on and her bag over one shoulder. She stopped on the bottom stair.

"There she is," Lucy said.

Grace crossed the kitchen and put both arms around Lucy's middle, face turned sideways into the coat, and didn't say a word. Lucy put a hand on the back of her head. The bag slid off Grace's shoulder, down her arm, and onto the tile. Lucy left it there. Her eyes stung with bitter tears that threatened to fall.

"You're going to be late," Lucy said.