yes. To normal people, you’re quite tall, but to her, you’re huge.”
“Normal people,” he said, rubbing his chin.
“Average,” Gail corrected, thinking he was one of those men who couldn’t miss a day of shaving. “Something tells me you’re not familiar with the idea of being average,” she said, and bit her lip. “Sorry. That was way too personal for an interview.”
He nodded. “Yes, it was, but you’re right. Barones aren’t allowed to be average.”
She saw a world of experience in his blue eyes and knew without his saying that he had always pushed himself, that much had been required of him and that he had done whatever it took.
He glanced at the application again. “I still don’t understand why you would choose to be a nanny when you could work at any number of top companies.”
She bit back a groan. “I like to play peekaboo,” she said. “Computers don’t.”
He remained silent as if waiting for the real explanation.
“When I work with computers, I don’t feel as if I’m making an important contribution. But when I take care of a child, I feel as if I’m shaping the future. I love the feeling of connectedness I get from caring for a child.”
“Mrs. Peabody tells me both your parents are deceased,” he said.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, surprising her with the gentle note in his voice. “You have one brother?”
“Who has tried to micromanage my life.”
He shot her a questioning glance, amazing her with his ability to extract information with just an expression.
“After I attended community college in Iowa, he persuaded me to finish my education here in Boston.”
“How does he feel about you taking this position?”
“How he feels about it isn’t important. How you, Molly and I feel about it is important.”
He nodded. “Are you engaged or in a serious relationship?”
Gail paused. “That’s personal, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but pertinent. I’ve just gained custody of a daughter I didn’t even know existed until a couple of weeks ago. I don’t want to hire someone who can’t make a long-term commitment.”
“How long-term?”
“Seventeen years,” he deadpanned, then cracked a wry grin. “Just kidding. After a thirty-day trial, I’d like you to sign a one-year contract.”
“A year is no problem,” she said, an odd assortment of emotions rolling through her. Mrs. Peabody had briefed her about the way Nicholas had learned of Molly’s existence, but the story still floored her. “Your life must have been turned upside down.”
“I’ve had to reevaluate my lifestyle,” he said, the fire in his eyes belying his neutral tone. “Providing a stable environment for Molly is my top priority. Which is why I asked that personal question. Are you in a serious relationship that can’t withstand your absence for a limited time?”
Gail thought of her wide assortment of male friends and bit back a chuckle. Serious? To them, she was one of the guys. “I’m not engaged or serious about anyone at the moment. I have several male friends, because I play volleyball on one of the more successful teams in a Boston recreational league. I also play a little basketball.”
“Volleyball,” he repeated, as if trying to put together a composite of her as a nanny.
“I was always better at sports than the arts, but I do a mean ‘eensy weensy spider,’” she said, and grinned. “I bet you’ve never asked about ‘eensy weensy spider’ during an interview before.”
His lips twitched. “Can’t say that I have.” He looked at her silently for such a long time that she had to resist the urge to squirm. “If you become Molly’s nanny, I’ll require complete honesty.”
She saw a glimmer of the hard line he probably held at the office. He was a man who would demand and get what he wanted. “I couldn’t give you anything less.”
He nodded. “Good. This position will require the two of us to communicate regularly. I think it’s best if we dispense with formalities. You can call me Nicholas.”
Gail wanted this job, but she had an instinct about Nicholas Barone. She suspected he could charm a bear out of its den, but he also probably expected his employees to submit to his will without asking too many questions. As Molly cried in the background, Gail began to think this job might be more challenging than she’d originally thought. Although she would respect Nicholas’s wishes, she needed to know he would at least listen to her ideas. “You strike me as someone accustomed to having most things your way. If I feel strongly about something, I will want you to consider it even if you don’t initially like it.”
He gave her a long, assessing glance. “I’m at ease with letting the buck stop with me. I don’t believe in shirking my responsibilities. As much as I’d like to be, I’m not an expert on my daughter yet. I will be soon enough, but until then I’ll value your input.”
In that one moment her respect for him grew. His commitment to his daughter got under her skin.
“Any other concerns?” he asked.
Just that he was so good-looking she hoped she wouldn’t be caught drooling whenever he came around. She shook her head.
“Good. We’ve already checked your references. When can you start?”
“When do you need me?” she asked, feeling a combination of excitement and some unnamed apprehension.
The sound of Molly’s cries filled the air. He didn’t blink once. “Yesterday.”
Two nights later Nicholas sank onto the bed in one of the guest rooms. The master bedroom was being painted, so he was temporarily displaced. He hadn’t slept well since he’d brought Molly home. The shock of instant fatherhood and all its accompanying concerns had kept him awake into early morning. After checking on his soundly sleeping daughter tonight, though, he felt he could finally relax. Part of it was the gut feeling that Molly felt safe and secure in Gail Fenton’s hands.
If he couldn’t make Molly feel secure, if his presence sent his daughter into tears, then he was damn determined to find someone who could make her feel safe. Gail had a natural warmth that he knew would comfort Molly. It surprised the hell out of him, but even he felt that same warmth in Gail’s presence. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but she projected the attitude that perfection wasn’t required or expected. Nicholas had spent his life around people who expected perfection, or something damn close to it.
Through the walls, he heard the shower cut off and a feminine voice singing. The sound captured his attention. A committed bachelor whose lovers rarely stayed overnight, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard a woman singing in his house.
Curious,
