Chapter Two

“Soraya has been taking care of Mary,” I explained to Ms. Hart. Her face instantly switched over from confusion to calm. Lightly and tastefully made up, she was under dressed for an interview with a billionaire. I liked the casualness to her manner and the unconventional edge to her beauty. It disarmed me—from the moment that I answered the front door, I felt off-balance. After the attack in the woods three years before, I was unused to people treating me with anything less than kid gloves.

“Mary, Soraya,” I said. “I would like for you both to meet Jennifer Hart.” Inside of Mary’s pink-painted bedroom, she sat on the bed, her hair a mess of bed-head curls and tangles on one side, while the other was nicely brushed. Soraya sat by the bed, looking flustered in a cream-colored pantsuit that had what appeared to be jelly stains. Soraya stood up, putting the comb that she held in her hand.

“Hello, Ms. Hart,” she said, holding her hand out in a crisp, professional manner. Soraya was a native New Yorker. She had the level of coolness and professionality that I prized, and she never asked questions. She had been with my company since before the attack that left me unable to reside in more populated locations. She had been divorced, and needed to leave the city behind her, so I had hired her immediately. Unfortunately, she had no experience with children, so when Mary came to live at Chatsworth, Soraya had been forced to take care of her. It had taken five months for me to find someone suitable to even interview for an au pair position.

“Nice to meet you,” Jennifer said. They shook hands, and Jennifer shifted her attention to my niece, who sat on the edge of her bed, almost in tears. I wished that I could care for her myself, ached to do so, but to be honest, I was a monster. Everything that I touched was destroyed and I refused to destroy the last surviving member of my entire family.

“Hi Mary,” Jennifer said, walking over to her, she stood beside Mary, and squatted down so that they were face to face. Mary was small for her age, with curly brown hair and doe-like brown eyes. She was dressed in vibrant colors—the outfit du jour was an orange t-shirt, a bright pink and purple tulle skirt, and a pair of blue sparkly butterfly wings. She was perched on the edge of her bed that was piled high with pink blankets and purple pillows from her room at her home with my brother and his wife. She held a stuffed rabbit on her lap. It had been sewn by hand and made of different fabrics.

“Hello,” she replied shyly, her tiny voice almost a whisper. It was obvious that she was still overwhelmed by her circumstances, but I hoped, desperately, that it was apparent that she was well-cared for, and even loved.

“What’s your friend’s name?” Jennifer asked, motioning toward the bunny.

“Monroe,” she responded, holding him up to her face.

“Hello Monroe,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you both. Would you like some help with your hair?”

“It hurts,” Mary said.

“The tangles?” Jennifer asked, and Mary nodded.

“I brushed my sisters’ hair every day,” Jennifer said. “The secret is to hold the hair and comb it against your hand. Can I show you?” Mary nodded, and Jennifer picked up the comb that Soraya had put down. She held a swath of Mary’s hair, brushing it below her hand and against her wrist so that it didn’t pull against Mary’s scalp.

“Much better,” Mary whispered, the tiniest smile on her face. My heart broke a little. Soraya exhaled sharply, and Jennifer looked up.

“Maybe we can have some detangler delivered?” she asked. “Suave makes an apple-scented one that kids really love.” I looked at Soraya and nodded, and she took out her iPhone. She looked exhausted.

“We need to discuss the financial situation,” Soraya said.

“Umhmm…” I said, watching Jennifer and Mary together.

“The stocks are down this week. We may have to go into the city,” Soraya went on.

“That’s out of the question,” I replied.

“You may have to,” she replied.

“It’s a full moon, Soraya,” I said.

“What do you and Monroe like to do for fun?” Jennifer asked Mary.

“We like coloring,” the girl whispered.

“Well I’d love to see your drawings sometime,” Jennifer said. “Would you be willing to show them to me?” The girl nodded a smile on her face. Jennifer looked at me, catching the hint of a smile on my face. She grinned. I let my face fall, and watched hers sink. I couldn’t, under any circumstances, lead her on. Jennifer turned back to Mary, who took her hand.

“This way,” Mary said, leading Jennifer to her drawings, which she had taped to the far wall of her room. They stood with their backs to Soraya and me.

“You need to take care of this,” Soraya whispered.

“It will have to be next week,” I replied in an undertone. “I can’t trust myself if I’m in the city. There are too many people.” Soraya knew about my…tendencies. She could be trusted to keep my secret, but she was wired to keep productivity at a maximum.

I watched Jennifer and Mary. They were sitting at the small table in the corner of the room, coloring.

“I’m going to color my sky yellow,” Jennifer said. When my niece looked at her askance she replied, “It’s the most fun color.” Mary laughed shaking her head.

“It’s not?” Jennifer asked in a shocked voice. “Then which color is the most fun?”

“Pink,” Mary said, her voice tiny, but happy. My niece seemed to like Jennifer—and this was the first time in months that her hair had been done without ending in tears. It would be dangerous—I was finding myself attracted to Jennifer Hart’s dangerous curves, kind smile, and confident demeanor. I would have to protect her—from myself and the monster that I had become three years ago.

“Very well, my sky will be pink,” Jennifer was saying, taking a pink crayon out of the box. It was a tiny stub, used frequently by my pink-obsessed niece. I cleared my throat, and Jennifer and Mary turned. I gave Mary a pointed look, questioning. She nodded eagerly—it was the first time since my brother and Lula had died that she had wanted anything.

“You’re hired,” I told Jennifer. She smiled at Mary. “When can you start?”

“Well, I need to pick up my things,” she said. “But otherwise, immediately.”

“Very good,” I replied shortly. “I will have the driver take you back and help you move.” I left then, walking down the hall to my suite. This whole situation was threatening to fly straight out of my hands. But Mary liked Jennifer. I would do anything for Mary to be happy again.