unusual.”
She shifted slightly. “I guess. Guys just never seem
interested in me. I guess I’m not exactly what most men are looking for.”
She didn’t sound discontent or unhappy. She sounded
resigned, as if she believed and accepted that truth about herself.
James couldn’t understand it. She was beautiful and sweet
and understanding and intelligent and mature, and she seemed to care about the
things that were most important.
She was a little shy and reserved, so maybe she’d never put
herself out there. If she had, some man would have snapped her up a long time
ago.
It was just as well that no one had, though. If she was
married, she couldn’t have been his girls’ nanny, and she would never have been
in his life.
James wouldn’t have liked that at all.
Four
Rose tried not to be happy about
James’s broken engagement.
She tried very, very hard.
She wasn’t entirely successful, though.
She was so unsuccessful that she actually dreamed about him
that night. She couldn’t remember details but, just before she woke up, she had
a vague awareness of images of his face, his eyes, his broad shoulders and the
sense of how he felt—his warmth, his strength, his distinct presence. She woke
up flushed, her blood racing in excitement, and she strained to bring the dream
back to her, wanting to relish in it before full consciousness dragged her back
to her senses.
It was hopeless. The dream was gone. She stared up at the
plaster curlicues on her ceiling and reminded herself that James wasn’t hers
and would never be hers that way.
She told herself these feelings were normal and natural.
Maybe any woman would feel the same way in her situation—grow too attached to
her employer when their situation felt so domestic.
But it wasn’t domestic. It was strictly professional. She
gave herself a firm lecture on all of those truths before she rolled out of bed
just before her alarm went off at six-thirty.
James might have dumped his snotty girlfriend, but that
didn’t mean he was available for Rose.
Hands off. Eyes off. Thoughts off.
That would be her motto for the day.
***
She only managed to fulfill one part
of her motto by the time James came home after work that evening. She hadn’t
touched him at all, but her eyes and thoughts weren’t quite so controlled, even
with the benefit of his having been absent from the house for most of the day.
James had told her that he was going to be back as early as
possible that evening because he wanted to have dinner with the girls and talk
to them about Genevieve and the fact that he was no longer engaged. They didn’t
have time to talk during their always rushed breakfast, and he wanted to make
sure to answer any questions or concerns the girls had.
Rose was touched by the thought, and she was pleased when he
arrived at the house at barely five-thirty, when he normally didn’t get back
from work until well after six.
The girls were excited to see him, and even more excited
when they saw that he had brought pizza with him.
“Can we eat in the family room?” Jill asked, having claimed
the box of cheese pizza from her father and clearly looking for a place to set
it down. “We don’t need forks and stuff for pizza.”
The family normally ate in the dining room, with no phones,
televisions, or interruptions. Rose had always thought it was a wise,
old-fashioned routine, since it ensured they really talked to each other.
She could see James hesitate at his daughter’s question.
Finally, he said, “We can eat in there, but no TV.”
“Okay!” Jill agreed.
“Yay!” Julie cheered, trying to grab an edge of the box so
she could help her sister carry the pizza into the family room.
Rose gathered up napkins and bottles of water, but she gave
James a sidelong glance before she followed the girls. “I can eat in the
kitchen, if you’d like,” she said softly, making sure to convey no particular
feeling in the words. “You’ll want to talk to them
She shifted slightly. “I guess. Guys just never seem
interested in me. I guess I’m not exactly what most men are looking for.”
She didn’t sound discontent or unhappy. She sounded
resigned, as if she believed and accepted that truth about herself.
James couldn’t understand it. She was beautiful and sweet
and understanding and intelligent and mature, and she seemed to care about the
things that were most important.
She was a little shy and reserved, so maybe she’d never put
herself out there. If she had, some man would have snapped her up a long time
ago.
It was just as well that no one had, though. If she was
married, she couldn’t have been his girls’ nanny, and she would never have been
in his life.
James wouldn’t have liked that at all.
Four
Rose tried not to be happy about
James’s broken engagement.
She tried very, very hard.
She wasn’t entirely successful, though.
She was so unsuccessful that she actually dreamed about him
that night. She couldn’t remember details but, just before she woke up, she had
a vague awareness of images of his face, his eyes, his broad shoulders and the
sense of how he felt—his warmth, his strength, his distinct presence. She woke
up flushed, her blood racing in excitement, and she strained to bring the dream
back to her, wanting to relish in it before full consciousness dragged her back
to her senses.
It was hopeless. The dream was gone. She stared up at the
plaster curlicues on her ceiling and reminded herself that James wasn’t hers
and would never be hers that way.
She told herself these feelings were normal and natural.
Maybe any woman would feel the same way in her situation—grow too attached to
her employer when their situation felt so domestic.
But it wasn’t domestic. It was strictly professional. She
gave herself a firm lecture on all of those truths before she rolled out of bed
just before her alarm went off at six-thirty.
James might have dumped his snotty girlfriend, but that
didn’t mean he was available for Rose.
Hands off. Eyes off. Thoughts off.
That would be her motto for the day.
***
She only managed to fulfill one part
of her motto by the time James came home after work that evening. She hadn’t
touched him at all, but her eyes and thoughts weren’t quite so controlled, even
with the benefit of his having been absent from the house for most of the day.
James had told her that he was going to be back as early as
possible that evening because he wanted to have dinner with the girls and talk
to them about Genevieve and the fact that he was no longer engaged. They didn’t
have time to talk during their always rushed breakfast, and he wanted to make
sure to answer any questions or concerns the girls had.
Rose was touched by the thought, and she was pleased when he
arrived at the house at barely five-thirty, when he normally didn’t get back
from work until well after six.
The girls were excited to see him, and even more excited
when they saw that he had brought pizza with him.
“Can we eat in the family room?” Jill asked, having claimed
the box of cheese pizza from her father and clearly looking for a place to set
it down. “We don’t need forks and stuff for pizza.”
The family normally ate in the dining room, with no phones,
televisions, or interruptions. Rose had always thought it was a wise,
old-fashioned routine, since it ensured they really talked to each other.
She could see James hesitate at his daughter’s question.
Finally, he said, “We can eat in there, but no TV.”
“Okay!” Jill agreed.
“Yay!” Julie cheered, trying to grab an edge of the box so
she could help her sister carry the pizza into the family room.
Rose gathered up napkins and bottles of water, but she gave
James a sidelong glance before she followed the girls. “I can eat in the
kitchen, if you’d like,” she said softly, making sure to convey no particular
feeling in the words. “You’ll want to talk to them
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