Not Just the Nanny. Christie Ridgway

didn’t dare look up. “So …”

      “So I was also thinking that your kids are getting older, Mick. Before they get too attached to their nanny, I thought you might be considering making a … a change.”

      Change! There was that poisoned word again. Change was what had messed up his ordered life.

      The change in how he saw Kayla made him edgy. Frustrated. Damn needy.

      But maybe Patty had something there. To get back to sanity, perhaps another change was required. He closed his eyes for a moment, depressed by the damn thought, then he looked over at his friend. “Could you give me a little time? To broach the idea with the kids and with Kayla? But by next week … by next week I’ll tell her about your offer, okay?”

      Patty smiled. “Okay.” Her expression turned hopeful. “Or sooner?”

      “Sure.” He ignored his tight chest and the urge to glance around and assure himself that Kayla was still, for now at least, in the vicinity. “Or sooner.”

      Mick had half promised sooner, and even considered telling Kayla that very day, but obstacles kept getting in the way. She took off on errands in the afternoon. Then Jane and Lee were home, and he didn’t want to discuss the subject with them in the room.

      As he and Kayla made dinner, the kids got their weekend homework out of the way at the kitchen table. It was like it always had been, the kids fairly diligent, he and the nanny supplying help when necessary. As usual, they bickered with good nature over the best way to remember the spelling of the words on Lee’s test.

      The only difference this evening was that he could hardly stop staring at Kayla’s mouth or finding some excuse to brush against her. His skin felt shrink-wrapped to his bones and inside he burned like a three-alarm fire.

      He had it bad, and depressing thought or no, Patty had provided a prescription for relief.

      “Kayla,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I’d appreciate it if we could have a talk after dinner. Just, uh, just the two of us.”

      She glanced up at him, her face coloring. “Just the two of us?”

      He shifted, embarrassed at how intimate he’d made it sound. “I mean, I want to talk about the kids.”

      “Oh. Right. The kids.” Her head bobbed up and down. “But … Mick, I’m sorry, I have to get ready now for my date. I won’t be here for dinner … or after.”

      “Ah. Yeah. Sure. Some other time.” He felt like an idiot, because he was holding plates in his hands, ready to set the table for four. He’d forgotten about Kayla and her date.

      She hurried out of the kitchen while he just stood there, his mind replaying her words. I won’t be here for dinner … or after. She’d be with some other man for dinner … and after.

      It couldn’t be jealousy, he told himself, but God, the taste of something bitter and green stuck to his tongue. He served up the plates for himself and the kids, hoping that the chicken and rice would dissipate the god-awful taste.

      The food smelled good enough.

      The scent of it lingered in the kitchen as they ate and even as he cleaned up the dishes. But then a new note entered the atmosphere, one that drew him around immediately.