The Holiday Nanny. Lois Richer

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СКАЧАТЬ Connie explained as their server arrived with their meals. “Silver was quite intrigued by the dancers.”

      “Yes, and we went behind the stage and saw how everything worked. I loved the Sugar Plum Fairy, Daddy. Could I be a Sugar Plum Fairy, do you think?” She crunched on a carrot then swallowed quickly. “When I get big, I mean. If I practice.”

      “Ballet is awfully hard work, Silver.” Wade glanced at the nanny, hoping for some direction, but Connie was busy squeezing lemon on her salad.

      “I’m strong. ’Sides, Connie says that if you don’t ever try to do hard things, you won’t ever know if you can do them.” Silver tipped her head up, a question in her eyes.

      “Isn’t that right, Connie?”

      “Yes, honey. But I wasn’t referring to ballet,” she assured Wade, tilting her curly dark head back so she could look at him full on. “A commitment like that has to be made by you and your father.”

      Her father. But was he?

      “I’ll think about it, Silver. Okay?” He waited until she nodded, her cheeks full as a squirrel’s storing nuts. He glanced at the clock. “I guess I’d better get back. We have a board meeting this afternoon.”

      “Oh, can’t you stay a few more minutes?” Connie’s rushed whisper came as Silver turned away to watch a bird. “You’ve been away so long, and Silver really needs to reconnect.”

      She had gray eyes, Wade suddenly realized. True gray, not the changeable shade of blue-gray usually seen. They held his stare unwaveringly, searching his for—something.

      Immediately, his hackles rose. He’d been wrong. She had found out he was coming here, had arranged for them to arrive just as David left so she could eat with him and beg him to stay. She hadn’t paid any attention to his warning. Wade had a horrible sense of déjà vu.

      And he couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow it.

      “I told you, Ms. Ladden. I’m very busy.” Wade rose, tossed some bills on the table and pulled on his jacket. “I don’t have time to dawdle over lunch with you.”

      Emphasis on the last two words was lost on her. She leaned back in her chair and studied him for several long moments. Finally she nodded. She looked—sad. “I see.”

      Wade heard a wealth of reprimand in the comment and felt a boatload of guilt. He’d only just arrived home. He wanted and needed to spend time with Silver, as she needed time with him. He wanted to see all the nuances of his quickly growing girl. But not now and not with Connie watching.

      “I’ll see you both at dinner. Be good, kiddo.” With an awkward pat on Silver’s head, he escaped the nanny’s intense inspection.

      “’Bye, Daddy.” Silver grabbed his hand and pulled on his sleeve, asking him to bend. When he did, she planted her lips against his cheek and gave a loud smack. “You be good, too,” she said and then dissolved in a fit of giggles.

      “Right.” Wade left, striding back to the office as if hounds pursued him. He’d have to warn Connie again. Tonight. Before things got out of hand.

      But as he sat behind his desk, thinking about how he should say it, Wade could almost hear David’s snickers.

      What makes you think she’s after you, Abbot? Bit of an egomaniac?

      Wade felt a flush of embarrassment. Maybe that was true. But as he walked into the boardroom, he resolved that he was not going to allow a second fiasco. Maybe Connie would think him a self-important jerk, and that was okay.

      As long as she didn’t start thinking of him in a more personal way, as more than her employer.

      “Mr. Abbot says he won’t be home for dinner tonight, Connie. He’ll get back to you about a time when the two of you can talk.”

      “Fine.” Connie squeezed the telephone tightly while fighting to keep her tone even so Wade’s assistant wouldn’t guess she was upset. “Would you remind him that if Silver is to start ballet, tomorrow is the last day to register? Thank you.”

      Two weeks. That’s how long Wade Abbot had been avoiding her. But in those two weeks, Connie thought he’d had ample time to make a decision on Silver’s request to take ballet lessons. And yet he still hadn’t told her his preference.

      “When’s dinner?” Silver stood in the doorway, trying to stand on her very tiptoes as she’d seen at the ballet and wobbling so badly she gave up. Her tiny sneaker bells “pinged” joyously as she hopped around the room.

      “Soon. I told Cora we’d love to have some yummy crow’s feet.” Connie was beginning to regret attaching those bells to so many things, though they were a good warning system announcing Silver’s presence.

      “Crow’s feet?” Silver flopped down on the floor, crossed her legs and propped her chin on her hands. “That’s not a real food. Is it?”

      “Of course.” Connie hid her smile as she folded the last bits of Silver’s laundry. “Crow feet stew, crow feet soup, crow feet casserole. Yum.” The teasing games were part of her effort to keep Silver from becoming too intense. Which was happening more and more as her father took pains to avoid Connie, and therefore Silver.

      The question was why was he avoiding her?

      “You’re joking, Connie. I can tell.”

      “How can you tell?” Connie sank down on the floor across from the little girl and waited.

      “When you’re joking you get a wiggly kind of a thing at the corner of your mouth. Like you want to giggle but can’t.” Silver grinned. “You’ve got it now.”

      “I guess I’ll have to watch myself then.” Connie assumed a very stern look then leaned forward and began to tickle the child. “Crow feet juice for you for supper.”

      “With red-painted toenails,” Silver laughed, doubling over and hooting with laughter.

      “Is it necessary to make so much noise?” Amanda stood in the doorway, her frown fierce. “I have a terrible headache.”

      “I’m so sorry. Can I get you anything for it?” Connie offered, springing to her feet.

      “How about some peace and quiet?” the older woman snapped as she yanked the bedroom door closed. The slam reverberated to the bells on Silver’s shoes. “Now my head hurts.” Silver sighed. “How much longer is it until Daddy comes home, Connie?”

      “I don’t know, sweetie. Your daddy is very busy.”

      “I’m tired of busy.” Silver pressed her nose against the window, her voice drooping as much as her body. “I thought that when Daddy was home I would see him a lot, but he’s never home.”

      “I know it seems like that,” Connie murmured, drawing the child into her arms. “But I’m sure it’s only while he gets things organized. You have to be patient and keep praying that God will help.” She hated saying those words. Why should a child have to beg for her father’s attention?

      “I have been praying. But I think God is busy, too.” СКАЧАТЬ