I’ll go through Terrel, but Mr. Holden is going to listen to me.”
“Mommy?”
Lindsey looked around at a tiny little girl in a rumpled pink pinafore, standing in the arched doorway to the napping room. Taylor looked just like her mother—a two-year-old version with wispy dark hair, dark eyes heavy from her nap, and clutching an oversize white teddy bear that had seen better days.
She ran over to Amy, who scooped her up and hugged her. “I’m sorry, honey. I was talking. We’re going home now.”
“And I’m going to get to work,” Lindsey said, brushing the child’s silky hair with her hand. “See you both tomorrow.”
Amy looked over the child in her arms at Lindsey. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Just cross your fingers,” Lindsey said. “And hope that the Big Bad Wolf is all bark and no bite.”
“We’ll go out the back after I get my things in the kitchen,” Amy said. “Good luck.”
Lindsey watched Amy head into the back area, and, moments later, heard the back exit click open, then shut. In the silence, she took the clipboard back to her office, and, as she passed a mural of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf on the way, she stopped.
She and Amy had painted it, and the Big Bad Wolf was looking a bit worn and not so threatening, with chips in the color at his legs, and scuff marks where tricycle handles had brushed against him over and over again. The poor old thing looked pretty vulnerable to her.
She tapped the wolf on its painted snout just above his toothy snarl. “You won’t know what hit you when I get through with you,” she said. And hoped she was right.
Thursday
ZANE SAT ALONE in his office, the drapes still pulled to shut out the glare of the morning sun. In the dusky light with the blue flicker of the computer screen to his right, he stared into the shadows…thinking. He did his best thinking alone in the morning, before the full blast of the day hit him. He swiveled slowly back and forth, and admitted he did most things in his life alone. He always had.
Suzanne had known that and complained about it. Now her child was cluttering up things, making him trip over logical thinking and rational reasoning. If there were two things he valued in his line of work, they were ration and logic. Lead with the head, he’d always thought, and shove emotions out of the way.
He turned away from the stack of papers and computer, stood and crossed to open the drapes. But before he could pull back the fabric, there was a flash of light behind him.
“Hey, Zane,” Matt said. “I thought you’d be at things early.”
He turned without opening the curtains toward the big man who, once again, was dressed all in black, from a turtleneck sweater to slacks and boots. “I’ve been here since six. I was just going to call you to work out a time as soon as possible for us to meet with Sol Alberts’s people.” He undid the buttons at the cuffs of his gray dress shirt and slowly rolled the sleeves up as he talked. “I have a good feeling about Alberts’s group. A real good feeling.”
“Okay, let’s do it. Tomorrow. I’ll make time.”
“Great. Now, what’s up with you?”
He came over to the desk. “I was just going to update you on the nanny situation.”
Matt didn’t look pleased as he dropped down in one of the two chairs by the desk. “I thought you said it was under control,” Zane said.
“That turned out to be a bit of an overstatement. Rita’s on it, doing interviews, but it appears that none of the nannies that have been sent out so far from the agency is right for this situation.”
He sat forward, elbows on the desk. “How can a nanny that’s trained to be a nanny not be right?” Zane didn’t have the patience for this right now. “What about that woman who showed up yesterday afternoon—the one I saw talking to Rita in the hallway by your office with that silly hat and sensible shoes? She looked like a real Mary Poppins type.”
“More like Attila the Hun, according to Rita.” Matt leaned forward. “Listen, I don’t know one end of a kid from another, but Rita’s got three children. She knows what she’s doing. That’s why I asked her to take care of this for you. And she says that none of the applicants so far is acceptable.”
“You trust her judgment?”
“Implicitly.”
Zane exhaled as he sank back in his chair. Strong fingers raked though his slightly long, brown hair, and his gray-blue eyes narrowed. “Then, let her do her job. We have until Monday. How hard can it be to find a glorified babysitter? I had a dozen nannies when I was a kid—and a nanny’s a nanny. My mother never had any trouble finding one.”
“According to Rita, the first one was a ditz, another one thought that painting a child’s face blue and dancing in circles would free his spirit. Another older lady wasn’t up to the stress of a two-year-old. One was acting like a drill sergeant.”
“Then came Attila the Hun?”
“She was about number five, I think.”
Zane clasped his hands behind his neck, lacing his fingers together and staring hard at the shadowy face of his friend. “How are you with kids?”
Matt smiled immediately. “I told you, I don’t know one end from the other. I never go near the little people. I like the way they look from a distance, but I don’t like the way they act. Besides, I’m an attorney turned co-C.E.O.—at least, I was last time I looked.”
“No chance of making an addendum to your job description?”
“None. Rita’s got some interviews today, so she’ll probably hit upon someone who she thinks is right for the job. I just wanted to tell you this isn’t easy and it’s eating up a lot of time.”
“Yeah, I know. And we don’t have extra time right now. Not with the Alberts group showing interest.”
“That’s my point.”
“Well, when Rita meets the kid’s flight on Monday morning, there has to be a nanny at the penthouse—a wonderful, intelligent, caring nanny who bears no resemblance to Attila the Hun.”
Matt grinned at him. “This is crazy.”
“Tell me about it.”
The phone rang, and Zane reached for it. “Holden.”
“Ron Simmons here. Have you got a minute?”
“Sure, hold on,” he said, then hit the speaker button. “Okay, I’m here. Matthew Terrel’s in the office, too.”
“Good. I need input on the figures you sent over. Is there any chance you can come by for half an hour, no more?”
Zane looked at Matt, who shook his head. Zane sighed, then pointed to himself. Matt nodded. “Sure, your office?”
“Yes, over on Grammercy. I’ll see if I can get someone from Alberts over, too.”
“Great, see you as soon as I can get there.”
He hung up, then sat back. “The first nibble on our offer.”
Matt stood. “Let me know what happens,” he said, then headed for the door. But before he could leave, he turned. “Zane, it’s sunny out. Open the curtains.”
“I’m leaving, anyway. Meet me back here after lunch, and we’ll talk?”
“Sure, your office or mine?”
“If the nanny candidates are meeting with Rita at your place, come on up here. We’ll have more privacy.”
“Okay, see you then,” Matt said, and left.
Zane rolled his sleeves down, buttoned the cuffs, then reached