to be part of the deal, so we’re especially going to have to feel our way through that, figure out what works for all of us.”
“Your needs and demands come first. You have to tell me if Hannah is bothering you. She’s obviously already made herself at home.”
He nodded. “We’ll talk more in the morning. You’ll have to come to the house for breakfast, since I know you haven’t had time to shop for groceries yet. I’ll be heading to the office for the day.”
He stood, so she did, as well. “Where is that?”
“In Roseville, just north of Sacramento.”
“What time do you want breakfast?”
“Eight.”
“Okay.” Valerie looked out over his property. Garden lights illuminated the pool and pathways, creating a beautiful picture. “Is the yard my responsibility?”
“I have a gardener.”
“You do?” She put a hand to her mouth, surprised that she’d blurted that out.
He grinned.
“You like the untamed look, I guess,” she said.
“I’ve pretty much just left it in his hands.” He walked to the railing, leaned on his elbows there and looked around. “I guess it’s not as nice as it could be.”
“It could be a showpiece, if that’s what you want.”
“Are you saying you want to add gardening to your many duties?”
“Maybe your gardener and I could work together on a new look. Would that be okay?”
“Sure, why not. I’ll give him a call and tell him you’re the boss.”
She’d never been the boss of anyone, unless she counted Hannah. “That would be great, thanks.” She knelt down to wake up her daughter, who made sleepy sounds of resistance as she snuggled against Belle. “Bedtime, sweetie.”
Hannah finally got her to her feet, although she leaned heavily against Valerie. It had been a long, tiring day for both of them. “Say good-night to Mr. Falcon.”
“’Night,” she said softly.
“Thank you for everything,” Valerie added, still unable to believe her luck.
“It’s a month, Valerie,” he said.
The grace period. She’d already forgotten about that, she was so sure of her ability to please him.
She nodded. “Good night.”
“I hope you both sleep well. Belle, stay,” he ordered quietly as the dog started to follow.
Valerie was aware of him watching as she made her way down the stairs and through the yard, holding Hannah’s hand and stepping carefully. She didn’t look back until they were entering the cottage. She could just make out his silhouette. He hadn’t moved.
Her heart swelled at the protectiveness of his actions. She was accustomed to looking out for herself and Hannah, without help from anyone. And although David was her employer, she felt he was also looking out for them.
It was a very nice feeling.
Chapter Three
Valerie had learned to cook at a young age and had begun teaching Hannah when she was a toddler. She wasn’t a picky eater. They often read recipes and talked about them—how a dish might taste, what could be served with it. Valerie looked forward to cooking for David, starting this morning.
Hannah was still asleep when Valerie was ready to head to the house. She went into her daughter’s room and sat on her bed.
“Good morning,” she sing-songed, brushing Hannah’s long hair away from her face.
“Mmpff.”
“Are you awake? I need to tell you something.”
Hannah flopped onto her back and opened her eyes halfway. “I’m awake.”
“I’m going up to fix Mr. Falcon’s breakfast. As soon as he leaves, we’ll eat. In the meantime, you can watch television.”
Hannah’s eyes opened fully. “I never get to watch TV in the morning.”
“Some things are going to be different for us here. We’ll have to figure out new rules.” She stood. “There’s an intercom by the front door. If you need me, push the talk button and shout, okay?” She guessed that’s how it worked, anyway. She wasn’t worried, since she could see the front door of the cottage from the kitchen window at the big house.
“Okay.”
“After breakfast we’ll go grocery shopping and stop by the school district office to get you registered, so put on some nice clothes. I put everything away before I went to bed last night. Check your dresser and your closet.”
Hannah sat up. “I’m kinda hungry.”
“There’s a box of cereal and a couple of granola bars in the kitchen cupboard but no milk. I’ll probably be gone about half an hour, however long it takes to make breakfast and put it on the table. Unless he has more to tell me or some job to do.”
“Mom, I’m eight. I’ll be fine.”
Yes, her grown-up girl. She’d had to mature fast, like so many children of single parents.
When Hannah was settled on the living room sofa, granola bar in hand and the TV turned to cartoons, Valerie opened the door and was greeted by Belle. She got up, wagging her tail.
“Good morning, Miss Belle. I assume you’re looking for Hannah.”
Belle barked. Hannah jumped off the couch and ran over, falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around the dog. “Belle! Mom, look. Belle came to see me. Can she stay?”
“For now. I’ll find out when I get up to the house. Don’t let her on the sofa with you, though.”
“Okay. C’mon, Belle.” They sat on the floor in front of the couch.
Valerie headed out and up the pathway. The morning was exquisite—a crystal-clear sky, the crisp scent of pine in the air, a mild midsixties or so, although probably another hot day ahead.
At the house, the kitchen door was unlocked, and since Belle was out, Valerie knew David must be up. She’d checked the contents of his refrigerator when she’d gotten the salad out last night, seeing very little beyond condiments, although he did have eggs.
“Good morning,” he said, coming into the kitchen. “How’d you sleep?”
“Exceptionally well.” He also looked exceptionally good in his khakis and light green polo shirt, a shade lighter than his eyes. His dark hair was still damp. He smelled good, too, fresh from the shower,
