is a great kitchen,” she said, smoothing her hand over the tiger-eye granite. “Do you cook?”
“Me?” Dr. Dunlevy laughed. “No. Other than using the refrigerator and the espresso machine—” he pointed to a fancy built-in coffeemaker with an array of spouts, nozzles and handles “—I’ve never used any of the appliances in here.”
Lily had to consciously keep herself from sighing. He must’ve seen the envy in her eyes.
“Do you cook?”
“I do. You might say that food is my favorite hobby.”
Standing there with his hands on his hips and his head cocked to one side, he seemed to size her up for a minute. He really was a good-looking guy.
“You’re more than welcome to cook for me anytime,” he said.
The suggestion made her stomach perform an odd dip. She desperately hoped her face didn’t betray her.
“I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal.”
Ah. Okay.
There it was. It wasn’t an invitation to cook for him. Of course it wasn’t. Still, for a moment, Lily imagined what it would be like to cook dinner for a handsome man like him in a kitchen like this. Simultaneously, she felt irresistibly drawn to the idea and impossibly out of her element.
“The kids and I have been eating a lot of pizza and takeout since they arrived. Before they got here, I ate most of my meals at the hospital.”
She blinked away the ridiculous image of dining with the handsome doctor over a candlelit meal she’d whipped up in this dream kitchen. Good grief, she was his employee. Actually she wasn’t even that. He hadn’t even offered her the job yet. She needed to remember her place and stay focused on what was important. She couldn’t let her mind wander to places it had no business going. So what if he was a handsome man? So what if he had a nice smile and great eyes? If he hired her, her focus would be on the children.
From the kitchen, she followed him into the large family room that looked a little more comfortable than the rest of the house. It had warm wooden floors and an overstuffed sofa arranged across from two masculine-looking leather club chairs. A massive wooden coffee table anchored the grouping. On the wall to her right, a huge flat-screen TV loomed above a fireplace. The windows on the far wall overlooked a nice fenced-in backyard. She could see it better from here and finally caught her first glimpse of the other three kids.
“While Megan, George and Bridget are playing out back, why don’t we talk for a few minutes and then I’ll introduce you to them?”
Lily watched the trio running around the yard, playing what looked like a game of tag. At the moment, the kids showed no traces of sadness. Still, her heart broke for them. She hadn’t been much older than they looked when her own parents were killed in a car accident. Her one silver lining had been that her maternal grandmother had taken her in and raised her. Her mother had been an only child. So she and her grandmother shared more of a mother-daughter relationship, filling the void for each other the best that they could. At least they’d had each other until she’d died. She’d been gone almost two years now.
Lily had always felt loved and safe and wanted with her. Dr. Dunlevy obviously cared about the well-being of his charges, but she couldn’t help wondering what the kids must be going through. To be so young and dependent.
Or maybe the innocence of youth protected them? She hoped so.
Lily settled herself on the edge of the sofa. Dr. Dunlevy sat across from her on the closest chair. With his elbows on the armrests, he steepled his fingers and gazed at her for a moment, as if he were collecting his thoughts.
Finally he said, “Lily Palmer, I’m glad you don’t scare easily. Please tell me you know how to make order out of chaos.”
She sat up straighter, unsure how to answer that question.
He laughed. “Even if you don’t, you come highly recommended.”
“That’s very nice to know.”
She held up a finger. “I have a résumé for you.” She slid a folio out of her shoulder bag and retrieved a résumé and list of references. He gave it a once-over.
“Have you had any experience as a nanny in the past?”
“Actually I haven’t. No nanny experience per se, but as I said, I’m a second-grade schoolteacher.”
“I suppose that’s like being a full-time nanny to a bunch of kids,” he said.
She nodded. “Pretty much.”
“Let’s see,” he said as he continued to read the rundown of her career history. Suddenly, he put down the paper. “What would you do with four spirited kids? How would you care for them?”
“I would keep them busy, of course. But first you and I would need to discuss your expectations for them.”
Cullen nodded and rubbed his temples. “I’m glad you brought that up. I’m not going to lie. They’re a handful. They’re good kids. Their father was my best friend. But since the loss of their parents, they seem to be working through their grief by acting out. They are the reason my housekeeper quit.”
“I’m very sorry for your loss. The loss of your friend, I mean.”
Of course he knew what she meant. He wouldn’t think she was consoling him over the loss of his housekeeper.
Would he?
Ugh. She felt her cheeks heat. Why was she suddenly so nervous?
Her words hung in the air between them for a few awkward beats.
“Thank you. The kids seem to be resilient, but they have been a challenge. I wanted to be up-front with you about it. It’s better that I tell you exactly what to expect than to have you walk out on us like Angie did.”
Lily squinted at him. “What do you mean, Dr. Dunlevy?”
“Please call me Cullen. There’s no need for formalities.”
“Okay. Cullen. Did Angie interact with the children?”
“As little as possible. Her main objective was to come in and do her housework. She was my housekeeper for a number of years. With the kids here, it was difficult.”
“No disrespect to Angie—I’m sure she’s great at what she does,” said Lily. “But in my experience, when a child acts up, it’s usually a sign that he or she is looking for attention. I would imagine that the kids feel displaced and frightened after losing their parents. I would keep them busy doing fun activities. When kids are busy, they don’t have a lot of time to get into trouble. And they tend to sleep better at night because they’re tired.”
“Would you be willing to get out in the yard and run around with them like that?” He hiked a thumb toward the windows.
“Absolutely. Unless it’s too cold or the weather is bad. And then there are lots of things we can do inside, like holiday
