CHAPTER THREE
Andie’s hands froze in a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel as she pointed her ancient Honda Accord up the long driveway. If anything, the Griffiths house was even more imposing in daylight than it had been on her first visit to meet Rhys two weeks ago. She’d needed the interval to find someone to sublet her apartment, to render her already-neat space immaculate, and to gird herself for life with the Griffiths family. Not that she would ever be truly ready.
A gentle, snow-covered slope fell away from the mock-Georgian mansion, which dominated the surrounding acres. Careful landscaping tried to marry the enormous redbrick facade to its setting, but the immature plantings couldn’t compete with the scale of the building. With its multiple gables, matching Juliet balconies, central portico, and white stonework trim, the gleaming structure boasted a bewildering array of architectural features to justify its no-doubt-astronomical price tag.
Andie thought wistfully about her neat little apartment. About her bookcases, their contents all arranged in alphabetical order, not one title out of place. About the small table that could seat no more than two, and rarely did even that. And about her painstakingly organized home-office space, where she could always lay her hands on the folder she needed because there was no one there to inadvertently sabotage her system—to insert chaos into the equation.
That was what she needed. A universe where you could put something down and count on it to be there when you returned. A world where the stakes were manageable and the entire bedrock of your existence couldn’t open beneath your feet from one moment to the next. Not this gigantic house, with its unpredictable inhabitants and its daunting responsibilities. She suppressed a sharp pang of anxiety as she juddered to a stop outside the front door.
Deep breaths. She closed her eyes and inhaled, only to be startled out of her skin by a jaunty rap at her window. Frowning, she pumped at the manual window crank, muscling the troublesome pane down a couple of inches.
“You scared me half to death,” she complained as Rhys’s eyes, in all their blue-smoke glory, loomed in the narrow opening.
“Sorry. I just wanted to let you know there’s a garage bay around the side you can use.”
He jammed his hands into his jeans pockets against the cold and gave the Honda an assessing look.
“That is, if you can get that thing to start up again.”
“Hey!” she protested. “That’s Ernie you’re talking about.”
“Hmmmm, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think Ernie’s long for this world.”
“He’s in perfect running order. He passed inspection with flying colors.”
Rhys leaned forward, peering at an odd, pale spot on the paintwork on the driver’s door.
“What’s that? Glitter?”
“Nail polish,” Andie said. She turned the key in the ignition, annoyance flaring as she fired Ernie up with a sputter. “I didn’t want to leave the rust exposed, and I couldn’t afford to have it treated professionally. It works fine for now.”
“Yeah, until the entire thing corrodes to dust. Having your car disintegrate on the Mass Pike is bad for your health.”
“You should move,” she advised with a scowl. “If you want to keep your toes.”
She pulled the Honda into the spacious parking spot and pushed the creaky driver’s-side door open.
“We can’t all drive BMWs,” she announced as Rhys appeared and popped the trunk open.
“What on earth makes you think I’d drive a BMW?” He looked genuinely perplexed.
Andie had to smile at his stark literalness. “I used BMW to mean luxury sports cars as a class, generally. As far as I’m concerned, they’re all the same.”
“Okay, no they’re not. And I drive a Porsche Carrera.”
“Must be handy, getting Will in and out of his car seat, in a practical family car like that.” It was only fair that she got her own jab in, if he was going to take her to task over the car that had served her so long and so well.
“It’s my commuting car.”
“And Ernie is mine,” Andie said firmly, hoping to close the door on any further criticism. Ernie was what she could afford, and she wasn’t about to apologize for that. Rhys could butt out.
“Fortunately, your commute just got a whole lot shorter,” he said with a grin, lifting her suitcases from the trunk. “Let’s get you settled in.”
She followed him up an interior staircase, left with nothing to carry but her lightweight tote and a couple of pillows. It was amazing how her irritation evaporated in the afterglow of his smile. Actually, it was enough to make her irritated all over again to think that she could be so easily manipulated by a quirk of genetics. Surely he didn’t need to be quite that attractive. It was overkill. Freakish, actually. And she wasn’t about to be taken in by it.
She stomped along, eyeing the deep V formed by the tapering of his lean frame from his broad shoulders to his trim waist and hips. Adding the definitive dot to the exclamation point was a show-stopping rear end, lovingly encased in worn denim. Nope, Andie told herself firmly. I’m impervious. Completely immune.
“We’ll drop off your things upstairs first, and then I want to show you a project I’ve been working on,” Rhys announced as they emerged into the foyer and he took off up the main stairs, bearing her suitcases as if they weighed next to nothing.
“Will’s still napping,” he whispered as they walked past a closed door that spelled out Will’s name in decorative letters painted red, blue, and yellow.
He led her down a wide corridor to the guest room he’d shown her on the evening of their first meeting—an oasis decorated in touches of delft blue and crisp white, with a plush queen-size bed festooned with pillows; a high-pile, cream-colored rug to soften the dark hardwood floor; and a writing desk in antique white tucked into an alcove. The room looked as serene and welcoming as it had upon her first viewing.
“You didn’t need to bring your own pillows,” he commented as she tossed the soft bundle on the bed.
“I’m a creature of habit,” she said. It was impossible to explain how even something as insubstantial as a pillow could feel like an anchor when she was this far adrift.
It was oddly intimate to be standing with Rhys in the room that was supposed to be her private refuge.
“So what’s this project you want to show me?” she prompted, gesturing to the door.
A smile lit up his entire face, and he lost no time in leading the way back downstairs. Andie’s curiosity was piqued as she trailed after him, wondering at the decided spring in his step.
“I feel like I’m in Gone with the Wind,” she marveled as they descended the sweeping staircase. She slapped a hand over her mouth, way too late, realizing how gauche she sounded.
“This place is huge,” Rhys agreed with a laugh. “My ex-wife’s choice. But don’t worry. On weekdays, my housekeeper, Jillian, is here, and of course, Mrs. Hodge, so you won’t feel as if you’re rattling around like a lone penny in a jar.”
“Mrs. Hodge lives in full-time, right?”
“Yes, but every other weekend she goes down to Connecticut to visit her daughter.”
He took the stairs down to the finished basement area where she’d be doing Will’s OT sessions, a space they’d toured at their first meeting. The sizable room was impressive, carpeted and painted in neutral tones, with a view of the large sloping yard and pond through double glass doors that let in plenty of natural light. She would have to set up some equipment, but it was a far cry from the dingy, functional spaces she’d occupied at Metrowest.
Rhys paused at the door.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“I guess,” she admitted. His irrepressible smile made her lips curl upward in response.
“Close your eyes,” he urged, taking her hand.
She froze for a moment. Normally she wouldn’t allow herself to be left at such a disadvantage with a stranger. But something about his good-natured enthusiasm compelled her to lower her lashes and allow him to lead her gently inside, his fingers exerting a warm pressure as they clasped hers.
“Okay, here it is!”
She opened wide eyes to the most exquisite OT room she’d ever seen. The walls were painted a serene blue gray, with accents in midnight, scattered with a constellation of stars that gleamed under a strategically placed black light. Metal panels mounted to one wall were covered in heat-responsive paint, so Will could watch the imprints of his hands appear in rainbow colors, which would then fade out.
There were swings of many types mounted to a ceiling crisscrossed with a latticework of reinforced metal bars with sturdy eyebolts. There were thick gym mats, squishy inclined ramps, and exercise balls she could arrange into obstacle courses. She saw stretchy hammocks hanging like colorful cocoons, a ball pit, a trampoline, and a low table for fine-motor exercises. There were even partitions Andie could use to fashion either a small, cozy space or a large, open one.
“Like it?”
“Like it? It’s so incredible you could actually charge admission,” she breathed, gripping Rhys’s arm. “How did you do this?”
“I got on the phone with a contractor as soon as you said you’d come. It took a few days to track down equipment and supervise the installation.
“And I only finished painting this morning,” he added, brandishing fingernails still outlined in blue latex.
Rhys had called her a couple of times over the past two weeks, asking about equipment she might want to order upon her arrival, but she couldn’t have guessed that he was working to pull this off. Something about the earnest joy on his face and the blue paint smearing his cuticles opened up a shaft deep in her chest, and his smile brought light to its farthest reaches.
“I’ve never worked in a space this gorgeous,” she confided. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything. Honestly, doing this helped me. Until now there hasn’t been much I could do for Will, you know. But working on this . . . gave me a chance to stop feeling so useless.”
“Tom wasn’t kidding,” Andie laughed, feeling winded by his forthright stare. “He said once you set your mind to something, you don’t quit.”
She eyed him as a wayward little laugh burst from her lips and echoed around the room.
“What?” he asked.
“I get the impression that if I’d said Will needed elephant-assisted therapy, I’d be looking at an elephant pen right now.”
“Elephant-assisted therapy? Is that a thing?”
“Yes, they have programs in South Africa and Thailand for kids with autism.” She darted a suspicious look his way. “Please don’t get any ideas.”
“You’re Will’s program director, not me,” he protested, smothering a smile. “No elephants unless you specifically say so.”
“Okay, then, we’re agreed.”
“Seriously, Andie,” Rhys began, suddenly tentative, “anything you need, you let me know. I want you to know how grateful I am that you decided to come here. Really, thank you.”
“No problem,” Andie mumbled, tongue-tied by the earnest intensity of his gaze.
Eager for a diversion, she wandered over to a heavy bolster swing hung at hip level and settled her weight on it. She kicked her legs out and set the swing in motion as Rhys explained how to safely adjust the height of the swings and hammocks.
In her flustered state, she misjudged her momentum as she swung forward, the arc of the swing bringing her so close that her knees brushed against his hips, their faces only inches apart. All of a sudden she was acutely aware—at almost a granular level—of the nubby softness of his plaid shirt, the healthy animal sheen of his neck, and the warm scent rising from his skin.
The strong column of his throat met the line of his jaw at an angle that perfectly satisfied her aesthetic sense. She felt a treacherous jolt in the pit of her stomach as she studied it, a sharp spike of sensation piercing her and holding her close for a seemingly endless instant before the swing arced away.
Okay, calm down, she chided inwardly, gripping the cables and dipping her glance. It’s just pheromones or something. Smoke and mirrors. Nature playing its tricks. Good job, biology. You’ve made your point. He’s attractive, okay? I get it. Now, leave me alone.
“If you’re up for it, I was thinking we could start working on Will’s bedtime routine tonight,” Rhys suggested, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort.
“Sounds great.” Maybe if she turned her attention to the actual reason she was here, she’d stop being knocked off balance by Rhys’s presence.
“Of course, you should take the afternoon to settle in. But then you can watch what I’m doing with his bedtime routine and let me know where I’m going wrong.”
“I should be able to come up with some strategies.”
“If you can, I’ll put a statue on the front lawn in your honor,” Rhys said. “You have no idea of the toll sleep deprivation has taken on this household.” He gestured at the subtle bluish shadows under his eyes.
“I can only imagine,” she said sympathetically. Anxiety started to dawn as she thought through the actual logistics of the exercise—bumping around in the dark confines of Will’s room in close proximity to Rhys.
“Come on, you should unpack and relax a little,” he prompted, leading the way back out into the corridor. “Will is going to put us through our paces later.”
“I’ll be ready,” she assured him. And she would be. She was determined to help Will in any way she could, regardless of the presence of his absurdly attractive father.
Her cell phone trilled as she approached the entrance to her room, and she ran to silence it before it interrupted Will’s nap. It was Jessica, her beloved sister, the closest in age to Andie of all the Tilly siblings. The one person who’d stood by her when everything had fallen apart.
Unlike her two eldest sisters, Louisa and Rose, who had married young and settled in their hometown in western Massachusetts, Jess was an associate creative director at an ad agency in Boston. She and her husband, Ben, a copywriter, lived in a small apartment in the Charlestown Navy Yard, perched right on Boston Harbor. They were the linchpin of Andie’s social life, apart from a few friends she’d gathered on her way through grad school and at work.
“Jess,” Andie said warmly. In her rush to get ready for the temporary move to Concord, Andie had needed to skip out on their usual coffee dates over the past couple of weeks.
“How’s the first day going?” Jess asked. “How’s the house? How’s your boss?”
Andie could picture her sister lolling on her crimson custom sofa. The tallest of the Tilly girls, Jess was angular and stylish, with a frame like a greyhound, a passion for designer clothes, and a gift for accessorizing that had sadly bypassed her siblings.
“The house is big. The boss is . . . nice, so far. You should see the OT room he set up for Will.”
“I Googled him,” Jess confessed. Her voice sounded close enough to be in the same room. “And, holy crap, Andie! You never mentioned he was that gorgeous.”
“He’s moderately attractive,” Andie conceded with caution.
“Says you,” Jess said with her trademark snorting laugh. “I’ve set a photo of him as the wallpaper on my desktop at work. Ben hasn’t noticed yet.”
“I heard that!” echoed a voice in the background. Given that Ben and Jess worked for the same agency and lived cheek by jowl in a one-bedroom condo that was six hundred square feet only in its wildest dreams, they didn’t keep too many secrets from each other.
Jess laughed. “That ‘Blue Steel’ stare gets me going each morning.”
“Stop it,” Andie ordered, suppressing a chuckle of her own as she recalled her sister’s fondness for Zoolander.
“I can’t help feeling there’s more to this situation than meets the eye,” Jess probed.
Andie had told her very little about how she came to accept the job—certainly nothing about Will’s first word. The last thing she needed was for her sister to start nosing around for hidden significance where there was none.
“It’s a job, Jess,” she said. “No different from my job at Metrowest.”
“Except you’re installed in the house of the most beautiful man east of the Mississippi.”
“Jess—”
“Okay, okay, I’ll table this discussion for now,” Jess grumbled. “But only because there’s a more pressing issue at hand. The Oscar party. Are you in?”
Jess and Ben had made their annual Academy Awards celebration, with its ritzy dress code, flowing champagne, and Hollywood trivia games—complete with Lindt gold bunnies as prize statuettes—a sought-after event. Tomorrow was the big day, and Jess had been petitioning Andie to make a sooner-than-expected visit back from the burbs.
“I can’t, Jess. It will only be my second day at the house, and as of tonight we’re getting started on Will’s sleep issues. I can’t duck out so soon.”
“I can see I’m getting nowhere with you today,” Jess harrumphed. “Well, I’m planning a trip out in your direction very soon. We’re going to hit the outlets and pick out our Oscar gowns for next year. I’m not taking no for an answer. Fortunately, I’m a lot more persuasive in person.”
“It’s your freckles,” Andie said fondly. “They’re irresistible.”
“Damn straight,” Jess confirmed. “Now, get back to work. I’ll save the killjoy statuette for you this year.”
“You do that,” Andie laughed. “Love you, Jess.” For the first time in their conversation, she felt a bit wobbly. Being at Rhys’s house did feel different, and it was disingenuous of her not to share that with the sister who meant everything to her. But there were some doors she wouldn’t open. Not even for Jess.
“I love you, too, you gorgeous pain in the ass.” Jess’s declaration enveloped Andie like a hug before they disconnected, leaving Andie to face her new world alone.