Eight Days a Week (2 page)

The door flew open, and I took a step back in shock.
 

“Please don’t use the doorbell. Brady’s home sick from school and taking a nap.” She looked disheveled and tired.
 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” I felt a little chastised.

“It’s fine.” She sighed and looked over her shoulder with her ear straining toward the stairway. Satisfied no one had been disturbed by the bell, she turned her attention back on me. “I’m sorry. I’ve lost my mind over the past couple of months. Come in.” She motioned to follow her into the kitchen. “Would you like a drink? I have water or juice. Or milk.”
 

“No, thanks, I’m fine,” I said.

She led me into a large living room and sat on a high-backed chair, her skirt inching up a little bit as she settled in, then gestured toward the love seat. I perched on the edge of it and looked around the room, trying not focus on her chest, noting there were very few pictures on the walls, though there seemed to be nails where some should have been hanging.
 

She blew a stray strand of red hair out of her face and then pulled a rubber band from behind her head to let it fall free. I would have been turned on, except she looked exhausted. The dark circles under her eyes and unkempt clothing led me to wonder if she’d slept at all in the past week or so.
 

“Okay,” she said and pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose like she was trying to focus. “First things first—I’m Gwen.” She extended her hand, and I leaned forward to shake it gently like my mom had taught me.

“Andrew.”

“Andrew, I have two children. One is seven, and one is four.”
 

I raised my eyebrows.
 

“I know,” she said, waving her hand. “It’s a long story. Anyway, I have a full-time job that I need to focus on, and I just got a promotion—”

“Congratulations.”

She looked in my eyes for a moment, surprised. “Thanks. Uh, let’s see. This new promotion will mean even longer hours, which is why I need someone. Bree is seven and in second grade. She’s gone most of the day and has ballet practice at night twice a week. Brady is four, goes to Pre-K for half a day, and has T-ball once a week and games on Saturdays.”
 

I opened my mouth, ready to tell her I was only there about renting the spare room, but she was blinking at me, looking for some confirmation I understood. So I nodded.

“What I’m looking for is someone who can get them out the door in the mornings and to their after-school activities on time, give them dinner, and get them ready for bed.” Her eyes moistened, and she cleared her throat. “I hate that I’ll be gone so much, but I need the extra money now.” Gwen’s lips pulled tight. “I have a cleaning service, so that’s not part of the job. I’m offering full room and board. If you can buy groceries during the day, then I’ll pay for those, too. I just need you to . . . be here.” Her eyes opened wide, and she pressed a hand to her chest.

I couldn’t let her go on thinking I was going to be her nanny. “I think there’s been a—”

“As soon as I get this situation worked out, things will be fine,” she said. “I promise it won’t always be this crazy.” She straightened her shoulders and slid off the chair. “Would you like to see the apartment?”
 

I took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Sure.”

She led me to the basement door and motioned for me to follow. At the bottom of the stairs was a whole separate house. The basement was renovated and furnished, with its own kitchen and full bathroom. There was a living room with a flat-screen television, a dining room, an office, and what looked like an open area where I could put some exercise equipment.

“It’s a mother-in-law suite.” She shrugged and pointed to her chest. “Me? No mother-in-law. So this would be yours. You have a separate entrance as well as a separate driveway and parking space, so you can come and go as you please once I get home.”
 

That didn’t matter. I didn’t own a car.

She paused as her mouth worked, trying to form words as her eyes darted around the room. “I would request that you not have parties down here or anything obnoxious like that. And it would be best not to have . . .
people
sleep over. I’d prefer that the kids not see that kind of stuff yet.”

I was annoyed by that last comment but decided to let it slide. A room was a room.
 

“What else?” She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples.
 

“Can I see the bedroom?”
 

She nodded and led the way. Everything was better than I’d imagined. The black iron bed looked insanely comfortable, and I was pleased to see a big, white down comforter pulled down on one side.

“So are you interested in the position?”

“What’s the compensation?” It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?

She snapped her fingers and smiled. “I knew I was forgetting something. It’s a weekly rate of four hundred.” She bit her lip. “Is that enough?”

I smiled and leaned against the wall. “You’re offering a complete apartment, food, and utilities, and you’re wondering if the extra four hundred is enough?”

She sighed, and her shoulders relaxed. “Okay, now let’s talk specifics. I’m not saying you’ve got the job—I just need to know a few things.”

“Shoot.” At this point she could ask me just about anything and I’d tell her what she wanted to hear. I wanted to live there.

“Okay. Are you good with kids?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. Why not? They were little tiny people. I was okay with people. Plus I had
some
experience. “I was a camp counselor for a few years. Camp Tekawitha.”
 

“Do you have a degree in, um, childhood development or anything?” She was fidgeting with her hands, and I wondered if she’d ever interviewed for a childcare provider before. From the way she was biting her nails, I would guess that the answer was no.

I cleared my throat and shook my head. “Not in childhood development but . . . I have a degree in piano—three years of school for that. Plus I have a two-year culinary degree. Neither of those are kid-oriented, unfortunately.” This didn’t feel like playing along anymore.

“You never know, they could be. We have a piano upstairs—maybe you could teach Brady. And I think Bree would like cooking . . .” She cocked her head to the side and looked me over. “Wait. How old are you? You don’t look much older than nineteen.”

I snorted and ran my hands through my hair. “I’m twenty-five, but thanks.”

She pressed her hands to her face and sighed. “Okay. That’s a little younger than I was hoping for.”

“How old are
you
?”
 

“Didn’t your mom teach you it’s impolite to ask a woman her age?” she asked with a laugh. “I’m twenty-seven.”

I leaned back as I did the math. She would have had to have been pregnant at nineteen. “And you have
this
house?”

She glanced away and sighed. “Another part of the long story, but yes. I graduated high school a year early and took a fast track in college. I interned at my job while I took my classes. That’s how I got promoted so fast.” She wrinkled her forehead and pursed her lips. “So, if you have five years of school, and it’s been, what, seven years since you graduated from high school, what did you do with the other two?”

This was the part where I looked like an entitled asshole. “I backpacked across Europe, and then I stayed for a year in Rome.”

“Fancy.” She squinted. “You know, I have a coworker whose brother did that exact same thing. What did you say your last name is?”

“I didn’t.” She couldn’t possibly be Cece’s coworker.

She waited.

“Lyons. My name is Andrew Lyons.”

“Are you Cecelia Lyons’ brother?”

I nodded, trying not to visibly cringe.
 

“Does she know you’re here?”
 

I shook my head.

“This is crazy! I used to work with her before I transferred. Now that I’ve been promoted, we’ll be working together again. Actually, I’m technically going to be her boss now. It might be weird, since we’re friends and all.” She smiled wide. “This is pretty unexpected, though. She’ll think this is hilarious.”

“Oh yeah, she will.”
 

Hilarious
was not the word my sister would use when she found out. I had to suppress a smile.

“I feel like I kind of know you already. She talked about you and your pranks all the time. Even when you were in Europe.” Gwen stepped toward me and took a calming breath. “You’re hired. You can move in on Friday and start on Monday, if you’d like. We’ll go over everything then, if that’s okay.” Her huge eyes got wider and she slapped a palm to her forehead. “I didn’t even ask you if you want the job.”

“I do.” My response was too quick, and I reprimanded myself for appearing too eager. That thought was followed by the thought of
eager beaver
and finally
beaver
, which led me to thinking about
that
woman’s beaver and—

“Good.” She smiled, and my heart picked up the pace.
 

She turned toward the stairs and then stopped. “The kids stay with my mom every other weekend, so that should give you a bit of a social life. She lives about half an hour away and takes them to their weekend games and lessons if I’m unavailable. So I’ll just need a copy of your resumé along with at least one reference, and we’re good to go.”

As she climbed the stairs, I stared at her ass. I’d always had a thing for chicks that were a little older than me, and there was something about her that was intriguing. It would be fun to live with her, I was certain. I’d have bet my left nut she wore skirts and shit to work like my sister did, and I wanted to be there to see what that looked like.

Which meant only one thing.

I was going to be a manny.

And maybe that would lead to sleeping with my boss—just for fun, of course. Because she was also my sister’s boss. That made it all the more enticing because messing with my sister was what kept me going most days.

Gwen walked me to the door and handed me a piece of paper with her e-mail address scrawled on it, her fingers making my palm tingle when they met. “You can send your resumé and at least one reference here. If everything checks out, then I’ll see you on Friday.”
 

Back in the truck, I pulled out my phone and, reversing out of the driveway, called Xander.

“Hmph,” Xander said.

“I love it when you talk dirty,” I breathed heavily in my best porn star voice.

“You’re making me puke in my mouth.”

“Don’t make sex noises on the phone, then. So I went to that house, and I’m taking the position.”

“What position? I thought you were going to ask about a room.”

“I only get the sweet-ass
apartment
if I take the job. So listen. I need you to do me a favor and write up a fake reference for me. Don’t use your real name or anything.”

“But she’ll call me, right?”

“Use a fake name. God, how are you so bad at this?”

“That’s a lot of trouble for a room.”

“Yeah, but I want this job. For . . . reasons.”

He was silent.

“I’ll tell you after you help me get it. But I
will
say this much—my sister is going to have to take at least a month’s worth of yoga classes to get over it.”

“I can’t condone this.”

“Look, you’re the one who said I needed to find a new place to stay. If this gets me out of my sister’s apartment, then why do you care?”

“Fine.”

“Excellent. It doesn’t hurt that she’s attractive. For a mom.”

“Don’t. Don’t say it.”

“Say what? That I’m going to be a manny and there’s a chance that I’ll sleep with my boss? Okay. I won’t say it. Just e-mail me the stuff and wait for her phone call.”
 

I hung up before he could say anything else. There was no way I wouldn’t be hired.

Chapter 2

I Am the Walrus

Cece and I were born a year apart, because the condom broke at the six-week mark. I was an unexpected surprise, born under my sister’s perfection, and I’ve been wriggling out from it my entire life.

It wasn’t that I didn’t love her. I loved her as my sister, as we’re required to do out of family loyalty. I would have even said I liked her as a person. Hell, she would have been my best friend if I hadn’t resented her for so many years. As it was, though, I just didn’t love anybody. Except for Xander, sort of. But he was a dude, so I didn’t say that shit to him or anything.

Being a Lyons had its perks. Coming from a family of wealth, I was raised to be a gentleman and follow the rules and do as I was told, and in return, I could have pretty much whatever I wanted. But over time, my father wanted more from me, and what he wanted was in direct correlation to what Cece had achieved. I’d tried everything in my power to make Geoffrey Lyons proud.

That’s why I walked away from my piano degree after three years, because Geoffrey thought it was a waste of time.