“So you don’t have any experience as a nanny?” I asked the girl who was sitting across the desk from me. She looked nervous, and I didn’t blame her. I knew that my home was intimidating—massive and grand. I tried to keep my voice gentle, though I was growing impatient with her.

“No,” she said. “But I’ve babysat.”

“For how long?”

“Three or four hours,” she said. I shook my head.

“How long have you been babysitting?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even and calm.

“About two years,” she said.

“And how old were the children?”

“Twelve,” she said.

“Twelve,” I repeated. “So you’ve never watched a six-year-old?”

“No, but I’m pretty good with kids. They like me.”

“That’s comforting,” I said. I took a deep breath. “Listen, Monica, I don’t think you’re a good fit for this position. Thank you for coming in for an interview and I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. I stared at her, unsure of what to say. My words had been self-explanatory.

“I won’t be in need of your assistance,” I said, and when she still didn’t seem to get it, I cleared my throat. “You may go.”

She stood up and grabbed her bag without saying anything, shooting a look of malice over her shoulder before she left, and slammed my office door behind her. I sighed, rubbing my hand over my mouth as I tossed the girl’s resume in the trashcan underneath my desk. I looked at the next name on the list—Lauren Cliffson. I looked up at the ceiling and prayed that she would be the right one. I desperately needed a nanny for my daughter Ivy if I was going to get my restaurant up and running.

I stood up, leaving my office to look down at the two women who were seated in the front room with my assistant, both of them waiting to be interviewed.

“Lauren?” I said, and the younger of the two women stood up, straightening out her dress as she walked to me. I froze for a moment, stricken by her beauty, unable to do anything but look her over. She had long, dark hair that was down, curly, and tumbling below her waist. When she met my eyes, I saw that hers were a vivid, electric blue, almost neon in their intensity. She came up the stairs toward me and I offered her my hand to shake.

“I’m Jack Stephens,” I said to her, drinking in the sight of her beautiful, full pink lips, the soft flush in her skin when our hands connected. She shook my hand firmly and I found myself tempted to hold her there, but I let go of her hand when she slipped it from mine.

“Lauren Cliffson,” she said. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Shall we go into my office?” I asked, gesturing toward the door. She nodded and went inside, passing me by so closely that I could smell a hint of jasmine on her skin. It was a deeply sexy and sensual scent, one that captivated my senses as I crossed the room to sit across from her at my desk. She had her legs crossed, part of her dress riding up slightly to show the underside of a tattoo on her thigh, one that I couldn’t fully make out. I had the sudden urge to ask her to let me see it but fought it back, knowing it would be deeply inappropriate. Instead, I met her eye, which I found to be just as distracting.

“So tell me about your experience in childcare,” I said to her, pushing forward with the questions. I had already eliminated her in my mind; I had no business hiring a woman I found so attractive. It would only make things messy, and the last thing I needed in my life now that I’d moved to Garner was to complicate things. Still, I would hear her out. I couldn’t exactly send her away without interviewing at all, especially not without looking like a creep.

“I was a part-time nanny in New York before I moved back here,” she told me.

“You’re from Garner?”

“Yes,” she said. “I grew up here.”

“I’m new to town,” I told her.

“What do you think so far?” she asked me, a soft smile on her face. She was being polite but I could tell that she was interested, her eyes holding mine as she spoke. They had lingered for far too long to be casual, though she did manage to look away before it became too intimate for her.

“I think it’s beautiful,” I said. “The people are—they’re friendly.”

She laughed. “It’s an interesting town once you get to know people.”

“So I’ve gathered,” I said. “Ivy and I tried out the farmer’s market yesterday morning.”

“Wow,” she said. “Welcome to Garner. Did you see the clown?”

“I saw the clown,” I told her. It had been bizarre at first to see him there, passing out balloons to kids at the market. Nobody else seemed to think there was anything strange about it. I had thought that Ivy might be scared of him, but she had gone right up to him and given him a hug without a thought. “Is he always there?”

“That’s Mr. Thompson. He’s always there and he’s literally always dressed like a clown. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him outside of his clown costume.”

“That is ridiculously weird,” I said.

“That’s not even the half of it,” she told me with a grin on her face. “You’ll have to get someone to show you around sometime. You might want to see all the weirdest parts of Garner before you decide to stay here.”

“Oh, I’ve already made up my mind about that,” I said. “Which is why I’m looking for a nanny.”

“You said your daughter is six, right?”

“Yes. Do you have experience with children around that age?”

“The last people I nannied for had twin seven-year-olds and a four-year-old,” she said. “I’ve also had experience with older kids.”

“You said you nannied part-time, right? You do know this is a full-time, live-in position?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “That’s what I’m looking for.”

“Why?”

“Um?” she said. “I just—I’m looking for a job and a place to stay. It just makes sense to do both.”

“So this position would be ideal for you,” I said. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Lauren was the right one—the only one—suited for this job.

“Yes,” she said again. “I can cook and clean, too, I—”

I waved my hand at her. “I have a housekeeper. I only need a nanny.”

“Oh,” she said. “Good.”

“What do you like to do in your free time, Lauren?”

“I’m a musician,” she told me. “I play the violin. I like to read. I, um—I mostly stay in. I’m kind of a homebody.”

That was a good sign, too. If I was going to have someone living in my house, I preferred that she not be someone who was too wild or prone to going out at night drinking. That wasn’t the kind of influence I wanted for my daughter.

I ran my hand through my hair, looking at the next name on the list. I tried to think about the woman downstairs but my head was filled with Lauren.

“Why do you think I should give you this job?” I asked her, curious as to what her answer would be for this question over all others.

“Because I’m the best you’re going to get,” she said simply, and I knew that it was true. I smiled at her, unable to help myself, and even though I knew it was a terrible idea, I reached my hand out to shake hers again.

“Congratulations,” I said to her. “When can you move in?”

“Now—” she blurted, then seemed embarrassed by her eagerness. “I mean, whenever you want me to.”

“Tomorrow would be good,” I said to her as she stood up and slipped her hand into mine. I didn’t allow the touch to linger before I pulled it away. If I was going to do this, I would have to stay as far away from the nanny as I possibly could. I couldn’t get involved with her no matter what. 

“Okay. I’ll come by in the morning.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Lauren.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stephens,” she said, and met my eye one last time before she left my office.