If she’d been paying closer attention, Dr. Sloan Copeland, M.D. would have noticed something was off the moment she pulled into the driveway. She never left the garage door open and neither did her live-in nanny, Tess, but that day, it was wide open and the contents of Sloan’s complex storage system were on display for the whole neighborhood to see. The Chevy Tahoe Tess used to cart the girls around was there and nothing seemed to be missing when she stopped in front of the neatly arranged rack of garden tools. Still, she should have known.

It was only Wednesday, but the week already felt so long. Her six-year-old twins, Avery and Addison, were acting as if they could smell the end of summer and had started a comprehensive and coordinated boycott against bedtime. They’d even worked in musical numbers with some adorably ridiculous dance moves, but Sloan really would have appreciated that hour of sleep they’d managed to snatch from her with their scheming.

She’d loaded up on coffee and the tiny burst of adrenaline that always hit her system the moment she set foot in the ULA Medical Center, but after hours on her feet operating, she was desperate to get home and reset her system. She was grateful for the fact that Tess would keep the girls distracted long enough for Sloan to squeeze in a quick, hot shower.

Sloan cut the engine to her Mercedes, then hit the button on her garage door opener. Before she could grab her purse out of the passenger seat, the door at the top of the garage stairs opened just enough for Avery’s small face to poke through. Sloan climbed out of the car and smiled at her daughter. “Hey, baby.”

But instead of launching into a detailed description of everything that had happened since the moment she woke up, Avery tucked her lips between her teeth before ducking back into the house.

“Crap,” Sloan said under her breath. She knew that look on Avery’s face. She’d done something bad. It was a toss up between nearly maiming Addison and attempting to set something on fire, if Sloan had to take a guess.

“Hey, love bugs! Hey Tess!” she called out as she walked into the mudroom. No response as she stepped out of her shoes and pushed them under the bench. She could hear an episode of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic coming from the TV room. Something was off, but Sloan still didn’t catch it. The scene she was met with wasn’t too unusual. Addison sat in the middle of the floor, a small bowl of green grapes in her lap. Avery was standing behind the far end of the couch bouncing on her heels.

“Hi, babies.”

“Hi, Mommy! Hi,” Avery blurted out before biting her lip again.

“Tess said I have to give you this as soon as you get home.” Addison held up a piece of paper. Sloan set down her purse and took the folded COPELAND stationery out of Addison’s hand.

“Where is Tess?” she asked as she opened the cream cardstock.

“She left,” Addison said.

Sloan blinked and read the note again. “Uh,” was all that came out of her mouth. She swallowed and gave it another try as she looked between the girls. “Where’s Tess?”

“Gone,” Addison said.

“She’s gone, Mommy. Gone!” Avery added.

A sudden, strange pressure gripped the temporal vein on the side of Sloan’s face. “She what?” She kept her voice calm, but the pressure was quickly spreading lower, to her chest. Sloan got it then. Avery wasn’t worried about her own screw up, she was hyped up over Tess flying the coop. Sloan flopped down on the couch and reached for Avery, who climbed over the arm instead of walking around.

“Baby, what time did Tess leave?” Avery was big on telling time these days.

“Three one eight.” Sloan glanced at her smart watch. It was nearly seven.

“She’s been gone for almost four hours?”

“Mhmm,” Avery said with a deep nod.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Sloan asked. She had the number to her office at the medical center programmed into the speed dial on the landline in the kitchen. Once the girls exhibited a reasonable understanding of how that phone worked and that it wasn’t a toy, she told them which number to dial in the case of an emergency—if Tess couldn’t help them.

Addison tilted her head back. “You said emergencies only and Tess said this wasn’t an emergency. She said we could watch TV ’til you got home.”

“She put all of her stuff in a pick-up truck,” Avery said.

“What the—” Sloan hopped up and practically ran down the hall to Tess’s wing of the house. Sure enough, all of her things had been cleaned out of the in-law suite. Drawers and closet completely empty. Toothbrush and toiletries gone from the ensuite bathroom.

“What in the fresh hell?” Sloan breathed.

“You said we couldn’t say hell.” Of course Avery followed her. Sloan turned around and scooped up her little girl.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“This means we’re going to get a new nanny, right?” Avery asked. “Kaydem has a new nanny.”

“Yeah, I think that’s what this means.” Fuck. She just needed a few minutes. Just a few to scream into a couple of pillows. Maybe trash the place. Finding the girls a new nanny would be the first thing on her list. After she called the feds on Tess. “Are you hungry?”

Avery tipped her chin in a firm nod. “So hungry.”

“Can you do something for me? Go ask Addison what she wants on her pizza. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.” She pressed a hefty kiss to Avery’s temple, then set her back down on the floor. “I will be there in just a few minutes.”

Avery nodded, then turned and bolted down the hall. Once she was alone, Sloan realized she wasn’t breathing right. Her full-time, live-in nanny had really just up and quit, and abandoned her freaking children in the middle of the day. No phone call. No text. Nothing. When her heart stopped racing, Sloan would grasp onto the silver linings, like how both Avery and Addison were perfectly fine even though they’d been left unsupervised for hours. That was the most important thing. They were okay. Sloan would focus on that, she really would, just as soon as she figured out just what the hell had happened to Tess.

“It’s okay to cry. What she did was pretty fucked up.”

“I’m not crying,” Sloan huffed as she shoved the sheets she’d just torn off Tess’s bed into the washing machine. She stood up and wiped the tears off her cheeks, then slammed the washer door shut. It was barely ten p.m., but she’d cycled through a whole bunch of emotions surrounding Tess and her unnecessarily over-the-top resignation. Sloan had ordered dinner and got the girls through their evening routine with relative ease, considering the day they’d had. They were handfuls and a half, but they knew when Sloan had hit her emotional limit. She was tempted to press them for more information about Tess’s departure, but decided against it, especially when they asked if Tess really wasn’t coming back and if she didn’t like them anymore.

Sloan wanted to box Tess in the street for leaving the way she did, but she really wanted to mess her up for making her children feel like they had done something wrong. Even if Tess hated Avery and Addison, Tess didn’t have to pull this crap. Talk about unprofessional.

After the girls drifted off to sleep, Sloan tried calling Tess for a third time. Her first two attempts had been sent right to voicemail. She left messages and sent a few texts, and just as Sloan debated calling the police—Tess did have a boyfriend, and maybe he forced her to quit—a reply text popped up on her phone.

Child care just isn’t for me. I’m sorry.

The keys to the house and the Tahoe are in the basket.

Relief flooded Sloan for a few seconds until the truth settled in. Tess really had just up and quit with no warning and left Addison and Avery to deliver the news. Sloan knew there was nothing she could do. Even if begging were an option, she didn’t want Tess’s irresponsible ass back. Finding a new nanny for the girls as soon as possible was the priority now. She also knew she had to fill the twins’ father in on what happened.

She did not want to speak to Drew about this. She knew exactly what he would say. That she and the girls should move back to Seattle. She could come work for him at his practice. His mom would watch the girls. They’d never be together again, so Drew would at least try to have his way and, at every turn, take his chance to remind Sloan she couldn’t have it all.

The thought of even having to have a conversation with Drew? About the girls? That pushed her anger and frustration to a boiling point and, unfortunately for Sloan, her extreme emotions usually came with tears. She raged cleaned as much as she could and then, instead of calling Drew, she called her friend Xeni.

“Girl, cry it out,” Xeni said. “Someone you trusted with your children and your home just up and ditched you. It’s completely reasonable to be upset. Express that emotion. It’s healthy. And when you’re done and you feel like you can think more clearly, I just need to know what kind of hex you want me to put on this bitch when we find her.”

Sloan laughed, but the tears still leaked down her face as she leaned back against the dryer. “Don’t waste your magic on her. She isn’t worth it.”

“I know, but she has it coming. Or, I mean, you could leak me her address and then I’ll just go have a chat with her.”

“Yeah, that’ll be great for your career. ‘Local kindergarten teacher arrested after assault on former nanny’.”

“I would just do the talking. You know I’d make a call for the heavy lifting.”

Sloan chuckled some more. Xeni had six elderly aunts in South Pasadena just looking for a reason to get in a knife fight. “I appreciate the gesture, but no. Tell the Everly sisters I won’t be needing their services.”

“They can make it look like an accident, but fine. Whatever. You got the girls covered for tomorrow? I have meetings at school until one, but I can sit with them for a bit until you get home.”

“No, it’s okay. My neighbor’s daughter is going to watch them ’til the end of the week. The girls love her, so at least I won’t get too many complaints about this transition of power.”

“Can you hire her full time?”

“No,” Sloan sighed. “She goes back to college next week.”

“Ahh man. Well, I’ll help you tag team this. You ask around the hospital tomorrow and I’ll ask up at school. I think between us we can find someone or at least link you up with a reliable agency.”

“Yeah. Okay. Thank you.”

“You know I got you, babe. You get some sleep. I’m gonna look up the street view of Tess’s man’s house and find the best entry points.”

Sloan burst out laughing. “Will you stop?!”

“Never.”

They finally said their goodnights and Sloan set about shutting down the house. She’d call her mother in the morning. Thanks to the time difference, her parents were already asleep back in Rhode Island. She should be too if she wanted to make it through the next day with a clear head. She headed upstairs, peeked in on the girls one more time and then made her way to her bedroom, where she called her ex-husband, Drew Ballos, the biggest asshole she’d ever met, M.D..

Rafe Whitcomb’s day had just taken a turn. It had been three weeks since the Bakers had relocated to Sydney, Australia. He’d been taking care of their four kids for over six years. When Jill Baker was offered a job overseas, they jumped at the chance to provide their children with an international experience—her words, not Rafe’s. They asked him if he wanted to come along; same pay, same perks, same schedule, just a different hemisphere.

Rafe was tempted. He’d been overseas with families he’d worked for before. Living abroad, even if he had to keep up with the Bakers’ kids, would be a pretty cool experience. But when Chris Baker joked that the woman of Rafe’s dreams could be waiting for him down under, a whole potential life flashed before his eyes and he wasn’t sure he loved what he saw.

He’d been taking care of other people’s children since he was seventeen. Being a full-time, live-in nanny didn’t leave a whole lot of time for a social life, or a life of any kind. Most women he dated were fine with the fact that he was only free two nights a week and that those two nights were set in stone. ’Cause it was all so fucking cute, how good he was with kids. But when they realized that the kids really did come first, that being with Rafe meant their relationships would come with a lot of rain checks, they were out the door. And that was only if they didn’t try to convince him to quit first.

Rafe didn’t want to picture that shit happening halfway across the world. At some point he knew he was going to have to step away from this kind of intensive childcare. He still wanted to work with children, but he wanted more time for himself, so when the Bakers asked him for his final answer, he knew it would be better for him to stay behind. He wasn’t sure what his next move would be. Maybe he’d go back to school. Get a degree. Regardless, Rafe knew it was time to call his folks on the other side of L.A. county to let them know he’d be moving back into his old room for a while. He was beyond grateful when they welcomed him with open arms.

He missed the Bakers and aspects of their routine, but he was enjoying the freedom. He’d enjoyed catching up with his dad and working on their motorcycles together, helping his step-mom around the house, and even keeping his teenage sisters out of trouble until school started in another two weeks.

He was pretty damn shocked when he got a call from Winnie Baker’s teacher. She got right to the point and when Rafe agreed to at least check things out, they hung up and she texted him all the contact information he needed. It had happened so fast, he was in a daze when he stepped back into the garage.

“Rafe.” His dad’s head popped up on the far side of his Harley. He’d heard his dad call his name, but his brain was still caught up in the conversation he’d just had. “Close your mouth or you’ll catch some flies.” This time his dad’s thick Boston accent caught his attention. Rafe shook his head and swallowed.

“Yeah, sorry. What’d you say?”

“Who’s on the phone?”

He glanced again at the texts that had just come through. “Uh, Sarah Kato. She was Winnie’s teacher last year.”

“And? What did she want? You look like she just confessed to switching Winnie out for a robot.”

“Nah. One of their incoming parents at Whippoorwill is having a childcare emergency. She needs a live-in by Monday. Single mom.”

“She want you?”

“Well, yeah. Sarah said she recommended me.”

“You gonna do it?”

“I don’t know. Give me one sec.”

“Yeah. Take your time.”

“I’ll be right back.” Rafe almost took a seat on the weight bench against the back wall, but his body switched to autopilot, directing him right to his old bedroom. He’d taken personal offense when his step-mom announced her plans to turn his bedroom into a guest room, but she’d really been on to something when she switched out his shitty twin bed for a Cal king.

He sank down and grabbed his laptop off the nightstand, then googled Dr. Sloan Copeland at the ULA Medical Center like Sarah suggested. When he clicked on her profile on the ULA website, he did one hell of a double take. Dr. Sloan Copeland was hot as fuck. And young. Rafe didn’t know how long it took to become a heart surgeon and even factoring in what his step-mom had explained to him about Black women and aging, Sloan Copeland looked five minutes over twenty-one.

The photo on the website was your standard professional headshot, Sloan sporting a white lab coat over blue scrubs, but she looked like a model. Her dark brown skin was practically glowing. High, round cheeks framed her plump lips, which were turned up in a bright smile that showed off perfectly white teeth. Her hair was in long braids that she’d put up in a high bun. Her looks aside, Rafe was stuck on the timeline of having two six years olds and finishing all her medical training. Not impossible, but obviously hard.

He clicked around on a few more links and some things slid into place. Article after article, including profiles in Ebony, Essence and O Magazine about the child prodigy bound for Harvard Med School. More articles and posts on the youngest doctor to complete a surgical residency at US Medical Center in Seattle. If his internet math was correct, she was twenty-eight. Still pretty young for an established doctor.

He realized how far down the rabbit hole he’d gone when he scrolled through a good portion of her Instagram. There were plenty of pictures of her twins, and close ups of human hearts on full display. Dr. Sloan Copeland appeared to be enjoying a full life. And she needed his help with her kids. Eventually, when Rafe found himself searching through her social media looking for pictures of just Sloan on her days off, he knew he’d gone way off track. Yeah she was hot, but that wasn’t a part of this equation. He walked back out to the garage.

“What are you thinking?” his dad asked as soon as he stepped back outside.

“Single mom. She’s a doctor. Two girls. Nanny bailed last minute, so it looks like she could use the help.”

“How old are the kids?”

“Sarah said they’re six. They’re twins.”

“You can handle that. Two kids is a walk in the park for you.”

“I know.” Rafe knew his dad was right. The Bakers’ four kids were actually pretty easy to handle. Before that, he’d been with the Craigs and they had five kids, and before that he’d helped his step-mom with his sisters, who were only a year apart. He could handle twins.

“So what’s the problem?”

“Just what I told you. I have to move on at some point.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you to leave a lady in the lurch like that.”

“She needs a nanny, Dad. Not a lift from the airport.”

“I know, you smart ass.”

“I’m just saying. This is more of a commitment.”

“How much commitment can you handle?”

Rafe didn’t respond right away. Yeah, he had plans, or he was planning to have plans, but he hadn’t put those plans into motion yet. He wanted to relax some more. Spend time with his sisters and parents. It had taken him two weeks to switch off and his internal clock still had him rising at six to get four kids out the door on time. He was in recovery mode, not start a new career mode.

“I can give her to the end of the year.”

“There you go. Let her know up front and then she’ll have plenty of time to find your replacement.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do that. Let me go call her.”

“Bring me a water on your way back.”

“A water?” Rafe asked, shocked. His dad’s sophisticated thirst could usually only be quenched with Coors, black coffee or knock-off grocery store Mountain Dew, which he drank proudly if he was feeling festive. He was surprised the old man didn’t glow in the dark.

His dad was suddenly interested in his tool box. “Apparently dehydration is a thing. Your mom says I have to drink more water or find a new wife.”

Rafe didn’t even bother to cover his laugh. “Water it is.” But first he had to give Dr. Sloan Copeland a call.