The Nanny Clause. Karen Smith RoseЧитать онлайн книгу.
next second Paris, Penny and Pippa burst into his office. Even his oldest, Paris, who was hitting puberty and was usually moody and sullen, seemed to be bubbling with excitement. Since he was standing, she made a beeline for his office chair and swung herself around into it. Her dark brown ponytail swayed across her shoulder.
Penny, his middle daughter who hated school and loved softball and soccer, announced with her arms spread out before her, “We’re done, Dad! We’re done. School’s over for three whole months and I can go outside as much as I want.”
Penny’s light brown hair was always disheveled when she wasn’t wearing her baseball cap. Yes, their private school was over for the summer, but he would have to remind Penny that she would have to choose a summer camp to keep her occupied during the day.
His youngest, Pippa, ran to him with her blond pigtails flying and wrapped her arms around his legs. “Can you come home now, Daddy, can you?”
Pippa had finally stopped crying herself to sleep at night, but she still needed a night-light. Their mother’s abandonment had affected his sweet girls in so many different ways. He had to start interviews to find another compassionate nanny/housekeeper who was willing to deal with all of them. It was hard to hire a nanny who could keep up with his daughters.
In the meantime, he was becoming an expert at negotiation and compromise with his kids. They were all staring at him, waiting to see if he would leave work for them. He wished the decision was that easy.
Since all three were focused on him, he had their attention. That was rare. “How about if you give me five minutes to make a call before we go home?” Immediately he could see the disappointment on their faces so he added, “You can hang out with Raina or go outside to the yard.”
The choice was easy for Penny. “Let’s go to the yard. Come on.”
A door at the back of the offices led outside. Penny opened it and ran down the three steps. Pippa quickly followed her. Paris begrudgingly went along.
As Daniel made the call and waited for his client to come on the line, he considered Paris and her sullenness. She was eleven. Were hormones her problem? He certainly hoped not. And Penny, at nine...when would her tomboy days end? Or would they? And darling Pippa, at seven, just seemed lost sometimes. He never thought he was doing enough. He felt he had to be a mom and a dad, whether he liked it or not. Sometimes that just didn’t work.
Fifteen minutes later, he was ending his call when Penny rushed in. “Dad, you have to come. You have to come right now.”
He jumped to his feet and ran to the door. “Has someone gotten hurt?”
“No, but come on.” She took his hand and dragged him outside and around the side of the porch of the craftsman-style house where his offices occupied the first floor. On a side street, he was a short distance from everything in the historic district of Spring Forest. His daughters—even Paris—were on their knees trying to stretch inside the broken latticework surrounding the porch.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice louder than he intended. If there was a raccoon or something worse under there—
“It’s a cat,” Paris said with a little more excitement than he’d heard in her voice in a long time.
“She’s a calico, Dad. She must be scared because she ran under there,” Penny added.
“Of course, she’s scared,” he said. “The three of you are strangers to her.”
Penny looked up at him, her hair flopping over her eyes. “Really, Dad? Do you think we scare her?”
Leaning closer to him, Paris whispered, “I think she’s pregnant.”
“You can tell that she’s pregnant?” he asked in a tone matching his daughter’s.
Pippa backed out from the latticework, too. Sitting cross-legged, she rounded her arms in front of her. “She’s this fat. She has to be pregnant.”
So much for keeping that fact quiet. Daniel knew nothing about cats. He imagined the feline could have some disease that caused swelling in her stomach. But if she was pregnant...
Just what was he going to do with her if she did come out of hiding? Looking at his three daughters, who were so eagerly staring at him, hoping he’d find a solution, he remembered the animal shelter on the edge of town. He sent a check to them every year so the least they could do was take this cat. But he’d have to capture her first. If she wasn’t friendly and fought him, he’d need something to confine her.
“I think I have an idea,” he answered. “I’ll find food in my refrigerator to tempt her out. I’m sure there’s a carton in the storage room that we can poke holes into so she can breathe and we can put her in that to take her to the animal shelter.”
“Furever Paws?” Penny asked.
“Yes. They’re good to animals and have adoption events, so I’m sure they can find her a good home.”
Pippa piped up. “We can keep her, Dad.”
He quickly stomped down that idea. “No, we can’t. I know nothing about cats, especially not pregnant cats. The shelter will know how to care for her best. But the first thing you have to do is back off a little and talk to her softly, to try and lure her out.”
“What should we talk about?” Penny asked.
“Just tell her you want to make sure she’s all right, and we’re going to take her to a place where she’ll be cared for. I’ll find food and that box.”
So much for getting work finished today. On the other hand, he’d be spending much-needed time with his daughters before he tackled the problem of hiring a nanny.
* * *
Emma Alvarez loved volunteering at Furever Paws Animal Rescue. The problem was...she needed a real job that paid. She’d made an impulsive decision and recently relocated to North Carolina from Pennsylvania—a wrong decision. She’d come because of a man. But she’d stuck around because she liked Spring Forest and the people here. The other reason she’d stayed had to do with her pride.
Emma smiled as she passed a blue-gray wall that was decorated with framed paintings from local artists. Their subjects were all breeds of cats and dogs. She headed to the front desk for a list of the latest foster parents who were available. After removing a colorful scrunchie from her shoulder-length curly dark brown hair, she refastened her ponytail. The North Carolina humidity curled her hair until she couldn’t control it. Around the shelter and working with animals, keeping it tied back seemed to be the best style.
Glancing at the desk in the front lobby, Emma noticed the chair was vacant. Possibly the volunteer had gone into the gift shop off the lobby to help a patron.
Suddenly Emma’s attention swerved toward the double-glass front doors. Three children charged through the door in front of a tall man carrying a carton. A tall handsome man. She diverted her attention to the holes that had been cut into the sides of the box. Emma suspected an animal was contained inside.
The newcomer, with dark brown hair cut short and neat, wearing a businesslike white oxford shirt, had a commanding presence as his deep voice advised the girls, “Slow down until we know where we’re going.”
His daughters, perhaps?
Emma suspected he might be a professional man, not only because of the crisp button-down shirt—though he’d rolled up the sleeves—but also because of the pressed charcoal-gray slacks he wore along with the leather loafers. She hadn’t seen him here before.
Two of the girls were chattering away. The middle one, who looked about nine, wore a baseball cap backward and pulled on her dad’s elbow. “What will they do with her? Where will they put her? How long will they keep her?”
The smallest child seemed to be enamored with the paintings on the walls. “Isn’t that cool?” She was pointing to a photo of a cat that had