Maid for the Single Dad (5 page)

Okay. So the house itself wasn't ugly, but Mac's ex-wife's tastes left a lot to be desired.

As she thought the last, she heard the click of the door-knob to the suite and she froze. Oh, great! Here she was standing in the bathroom of his suite like an idiot, obviously snooping! If he hadn't fired her before, he'd probably fire her now. She shot for the cupboard beneath the double
sink, hoping she'd find the laundry basket there. As she opened the door, brown wicker greeted her and she just barely had time to yank it out before he walked in.

“Oh, Mr.—Mac.” She lowered her head and started for the door. “Just collecting the laundry.”

“Actually, I've been looking for you.”

She swallowed and glanced up, meeting his gaze. “You have?”

He nodded. “I know you're not a professional nanny. I know you're not even a real maid. But when I give an order you are not to contradict me.”

“I didn't realize making peanut butter sandwiches was an order.”

Damn it! Why had she said that? Why hadn't she simply said, “Yes, sir,” and gotten the hell out of here!

His eyes narrowed at her. “Anything I say and do in this house—especially if it pertains to my children—is an order. Do you understand that?”

This time she did say, “Yes, sir.” She actually got halfway to the bedroom door, before something inside her rose up and she couldn't stop herself from turning around. Mac stood by the ugly, ugly, ugly bed. He was gruff. His house was a museum. His daughter was adorable, but subdued. She got up at four o'clock in the morning because she couldn't sleep. Probably because she was nervous. Probably because her dad was so…unbendable.

“All she wanted was a little macaroni.”

Mac gaped at her. “Are you questioning me?”

Feeling a strong need to help Lacy, she lifted her chin. “Maybe I'm confused because I'm not a full-time employee,” she said, trying to soften the blow. “Maybe I'm confused because I'm also not a parent. But I can't see what difference it would have made to let her eat a little macaroni. She's a kid. She was hungry.”

Mac sucked in a breath. Once again Ellie got the impression he was controlling his temper. Fear flooded her. She knew better than to anger a man. Yet, here she was arguing about macaroni. No, she was arguing for Lacy. The kid was a kid, yet in two days Ellie had only seen her playing once. She hadn't been able to choose her own lunch. Something was wrong here!

Finally Mac slowly said, “I was feeding her. And I'll make her macaroni tomorrow.”

“But she wanted macaroni today.”

Mac squeezed his eyes shut. “Miss Swanson, go do the laundry.”

An odd sense of empowerment swelled in Ellie. He was furious with her for questioning him. Yet, he hadn't made a move toward her. He hadn't even yelled.

Still, she wouldn't push her luck.

 

That afternoon while both kids were napping, Mac paced his office. Nobody—
nobody
—questioned him, yet Ellie hadn't hesitated. He should be furious. He should have instantly fired her for insubordination. Instead, he'd felt a stirring of guilt for denying Lacy what she wanted for lunch and unexpected appreciation that Ellie had a soft spot for his daughter. His appreciation actually got worse when she turned around before leaving and questioned him one more time.

Lacy was a little girl whose mother had abandoned her. Her nanny had refused to move to Coral Gables when they'd run here before Pamela's new movie could be released. She had no aunts and uncles or cousins because Mac was an only child. Her grandparents were jetsetters.

Even Mac felt for her. He'd lived that himself. An only child, dependent upon nannies for support and love. But at least he'd had one stable, consistent nanny. Mrs.
Pomeroy. She was more of a grandmother to him than his grandmother had been. Their bond was so strong that he'd bought her the house in Coral Gables as a retirement gift. It was also why he'd called her when he'd made the decision to hide while Pamela resurrected her career, and Mrs. Pomeroy had suggested he buy the house next to hers. She was here for support, to love his kids, and could even babysit for short spans. But she was eighty years old now. She couldn't be his children's nanny. Not even for three or four weeks while he looked for a new one.

So he knew the value of having a loving nanny. A consistent, stable nanny. If Ellie Swanson checked out, he'd be tempted to offer her anything she wanted to be Lacy and Henry's nanny permanently.

Except for his damned attraction to her.

There they'd stood, in his ugly bedroom—he certainly hoped the people who'd owned the house before him hadn't paid the decorator well—with Ellie being insubordinate, and all he could think of was how close they were to the bed.

It was ridiculous. He didn't know the woman. He could embarrass her or cause her to leave if he made a pass at her. Yet, the pull of attraction he felt to her was so strong, he'd forgotten every one of those good reasons he was supposed to keep his relationship with her purely professional.

He opened his cell phone and checked one more time for messages. If Phil would just get back to him and tell him one way or another about Ellie, then Mac could act. He could either fire her or feel comfortable leaving her alone with his kids and go back to work so he wouldn't have to be around her so much.

But there was no cell phone message from Phil. No incoming call. He was on his own with Ellie Swanson until Phil dug around enough that he was satisfied he knew everything about Ellie's past and could make a recommendation.

A
T TWO
o'clock, Mac came into the kitchen with Lacy and Henry. Ellie looked up from the cookbook she was scouring for recipes.

“I'm taking the kids next door to visit Mrs. Pomeroy.”

She frowned at him. “Your neighbor?”

“Yes. She's an old family friend.”

Lacy sheepishly said, “I like her.”

“Well, of course, you do, sweetie,” Ellie said, stooping down to Lacy's level. “You're one of life's very special children who loves everybody.”

The little girl grinned happily and Ellie's heart swelled. Lacy was so adorable, and her dad such a grouch, that Ellie had to fight the urge to pull her into her arms and hug her.

Mac directed Lacy away from Ellie toward the hall behind the kitchen. Earlier that day, Ellie had found a side door that led to a walkway that went to the fence and a gate that led to the next house over. So she knew where they were going.

Walking toward the door, he said, “We'll be back before dinner.” Then he paused and faced Ellie again. “I'll be grilling hot dogs for supper.” He cleared his throat. “And you can…um…make some of that macaroni for us too.”

Ellie's mouth fell open in surprise. Their gazes caught and a lightning bolt of electricity sizzled through her. She reminded herself that he was a grouch. She told herself he was out of her league. She reiterated her life plan—that her intuition was always wrong about men, so she was better off staying away from relationships. Yet here she was attracted to a grouchy employer, a man too rich for her, who probably wanted to fire her for questioning him.

But at least he didn't have a temper.

She groaned inwardly as Mac and the kids left the kitchen. Then she slammed the cookbook on the table. It was one thing to be softening her feelings about him as a boss. But finding reasons it was okay to like him—that was wrong! Was she nuts? Seriously? Did she need another lesson about how she always chose the wrong men to be attracted to?

Apparently.

Annoyed with herself, she jogged up the staircase. Mac's bedroom hadn't been a disaster, but it was on her rotation for cleaning. It was better to wipe down the showers and tubs every day than to wait until an employer noticed soap scum. So she headed for the laundry room, where she'd also found cleaning supplies for the upstairs, and went into Mac's room.

The ugly bedroom reminded her that she and Mac were totally different. Scrubbing toilets helped her to remember who she was and where she was and why she shouldn't be attracted to him. By the time she was done in the bathroom she felt much better. Normal. Like a woman who earned her living by the sweat of her brow, who, in spite of her positive attitude, would never set herself up for the embarrassment of falling for an employer and being…well, patted on the head and told she wasn't good enough.

No. No. She knew how the world ran. She wouldn't be bucking that particular system.

Satisfied, she took a dust cloth over the furniture in Mac's room, once again noticing how hideous it was. In a giddy moment, she wondered if poor taste was why he'd dumped his ex-wife, then she spun around, curious. There was not one sign that a woman had ever shared this suite. In fact, that thought actually made sense of the ugly room. Lots of men didn't have any idea how to decorate. If Mac had chosen these things himself, without the assistance of a wife or decorator, then the man wasn't totally gifted after all. He might be rich, good-looking and successful, but he couldn't color coordinate. Plus, if he'd completely redone this bedroom that explained why there wasn't a trace of his ex.

Of course, she hadn't looked in the closet. Surely there was at least a picture.

That roused her curiosity enough that she left her dust cloth on the dresser and tiptoed to the closet. Opening the door, she gasped. The thing was bigger than her apartment! She walked inside, running her hand along the hundreds of dark suits that hung in two long rows. Open shelving held more casual clothing. A back cabinet contained at least five hundred ties. Twenty-three pairs of assorted black shoes lined one row of a three-row shoe rack. The other rows held numerous tennis shoes, different colored dock shoes, various and sundry brown shoes, and ten pairs of navy shoes.

She snooped around, even peeking behind the suits for a door or a box that might contain a few things left behind by his wife. But she found nothing.

Feeling like a fool for being so curious and also realizing that if Mac came in it would appear as if she was casing the joint to rob him, she quickly scrambled out of
the closet, grabbed her dust cloth on the way out of the bedroom, stored her cleaning supplies in the laundry room and headed downstairs again.

Through the wall of windows behind the stairway, she saw Mac and the kids returning from their afternoon with the neighbor, and she picked up her pace so she could beat them to the kitchen. The safety zone. The place he expected her to be.

But they didn't come into the kitchen. Using one of the many doors in the house that she couldn't see from behind the stove, they'd entered and probably gone to the playroom or maybe upstairs for the kids' naps.

Walking to the cabinet to retrieve two boxes of macaroni, she shook her head in wonder. Her heart squeezed at the thought that he loved his kids so much he wanted to be their primary caregiver. Her brain was suspicious, thought he was overprotective and worried that he would smother his kids when they got older.

She blew her breath out. Her past too frequently caused her to worry too much about people she didn't know. But maybe that was the real bottom line? She always jumped to conclusions about people she didn't know, speculated about their lives, wondered about their behaviors. But as soon as she got to know someone her confusion stopped. So maybe what she needed to do was get to know Mac?

That made her wince. There were only two problems with that. First, he didn't seem to want her around. Second, she was fighting an attraction for him. She tapped her finger on her cheek. The truth was she'd never met a man she couldn't talk herself out of being attracted to once she spent some alone time with him. It wasn't that she found faults or flaws; it was simply easier to categorize someone as only a friend once she got to know him.

Her phone buzzed and she pulled it from her jeans pocket.

“Hey, Ava.”

“Hey, Ellie. What time do you want me over tonight? In time to bring something for dinner?”

“Mac's grilling.”

“Oh. That's interesting.”

Though she understood Ava's curiosity, Ellie didn't comment. That was one thing she'd always understood. When employed to walk through someone's house, dust their personal things, wash their clothes, a maid could not comment on what she saw. Instead, she said, “How about eight o'clock? Dinner will be over and Mac should be busy upstairs putting the kids to bed.”

“Sounds great.”

Plus, Ellie was considering spending time with Mac. The best thing to do would be to insinuate herself into dinner somehow. With the worry of Ava popping in at any minute now gone, Ellie could relax and do that. Then this time tomorrow she wouldn't feel any attraction to Mac and she and Mac would probably get along much better.

Mac hadn't needed her help getting the kids or the hot dogs out to the grill that had been set up in a gazebo just beyond the patio. The patio itself had two love-seat-sized sofas with thickly padded seats and glass tables. But the gazebo appeared to have been furnished with the kids in mind. Four-foot walls kept the little ones inside, but also hid the big gas grill and the practical plastic furniture more suitable to children's needs. Comfortable dark-colored chaise lounges created a seating arrangement to the right of the eating area. A leather wet bar probably served the needs of both the gazebo and the patio.

Ellie saw all that when she brought the macaroni and cheese to the table.

“Set it here,” Mac said, pointing to one of the huge side arms of the grill, then he went back to tending the sizzling hot dogs, dismissing her.

Ellie's brain scrambled around for a reason to stay. Mac had secured Henry in a highchair and settled Lacy with a coloring book at the comfortable-looking heavy plastic table. There was nothing for her to do. No reason to stay.

But she couldn't leave. This relaxed atmosphere was the perfect place for her and Mac to begin to get to know each other so their relationship would be less strained. Yet she couldn't think of a way to detain herself.

“Everything okay?” Mac asked.

Ellie looked over at him. Think, she told herself. But gazing into his blue eyes, her brain shut down and her hormones kicked in. She wanted to smile, to flirt, to put her arms around his neck and coax him into admitting there was something between them.

Good grief! Why was her imagination so vivid with him? Especially when that was exactly the problem! She
did
want to flirt with him. They had to get to know each other in a more professional way, maybe even become friends, so these crazy feelings inspired by their chemistry would evaporate like the insubstantial vapor they were.

She took a breath. “I thought maybe I could help with the grilling.”

“I'm fine.”

“Then maybe I could entertain Lacy and Henry while you're busy.”

He shot her a look of such distrust that Ellie actually stepped back.

“No.”

“I'm really good with kids—”

“You're dismissed, Miss Swanson. May I suggest you tend to your own duties while you have sufficient time to get the housecleaning end of your job in order.”

She swallowed. She wanted to call him a pain in the butt, a grouch, a horrible father. But because she was an employee, she couldn't say any of those. Plus, he wasn't a horrible father. If anything, he tried too hard to be a good father and ended up being an overprotective father… She frowned. He'd said he was caring for Lacy and Henry because he was giving her and the kids time to get adjusted to each other. But what if he just plain didn't trust her with his kids?

The thought almost made her gasp. She'd actually considered this already, but had forgotten about it because their damned attraction was so strong it usually pushed every other thought aside.

But she got it now. His secondary purpose for his caring for the kids truly might be to give her and Lacy and Henry time to get adjusted, but the main reason was that he didn't trust her.

 

“He's a blooming control freak.”

Ellie had gone over everything she'd done for Mac and the kids and knew, absolutely knew, the problem was not hers. She'd been helpful, patient, kind, honest, trustworthy. If he still didn't trust her, then
he
had the problem. And because she wasn't telling Ava anything about his kids, his preferences of underwear, even what he stocked in the fridge, she didn't feel she was breaking a confidence.

Particularly since she needed Ava's help understanding him or she'd never last the entire month she'd promised to handle this assignment.

Ava strolled to the weathered table, dropping a stack of files at a place in front of a chair. “Most rich men are control freaks. Cain can be pretty darned demanding himself.”

Ellie shook her head, taking the seat beside Ava at the table. “Demanding is one thing. Surrounding your children to keep them from your new nanny is another.”

Ava peered over at Ellie. “Why hire a nanny if you won't let your kids near her?”

“Exactly my point.”

“That doesn't make any sense.”

“Especially since he'll never trust me if he doesn't let me spend time with the kids.”

 

Walking to the kitchen for an apple after putting the kids to bed, Mac heard Ellie's voice. Though he couldn't make out what she'd said, he very clearly heard her speaking and stopped. Was she talking to herself?

“He cooks for them, gets up with Henry at night and Lacy in the morning. He entertains them before he puts them down for their naps and bathes them before bedtime—”

Mac froze. The tone of her voice quite clearly said she was not only displeased with his overbearing behavior about his kids, she was also suspicious.

That wasn't good. Suspicious people went snooping. She wouldn't find anything in this house. But if she got curious enough to go on the Internet, she'd not only discover his ex-wife's identity beyond Mrs. Carmichael, but she'd also realize why Mac was so protective. What she wouldn't guess, though, was that he was still in the process of investigating
her
while his children became accustomed to seeing her in their home, so they'd be comfortable when he went back to work.

Phil probably only needed another day or two. The question was did Phil have that long before Ellie began an investigation of her own?

“He… He…”

“He what?”

Mac's jaw dropped. The voice that nudged Ellie along was new. It took several seconds for that to fully penetrate, when it did his feet took on a life of their own and he propelled himself through the swinging door into the kitchen. She'd let a stranger into his house!

A short, dark-haired woman with black frame glasses sat beside Ellie at the table by the French doors.

“Who is this!”

Ellie's faced turned white in horror. “She's Cain's assistant, Ava.”

“And how did she get in?”

Ellie rose. “I let her in. I told you that while Liz is on vacation I have to run Happy Maids. Ava's been doing the office work during the day, but at night I have to approve hours, shift changes and assignments.”

Mac tried to stem the roar of his blood through his veins, but he couldn't. This was exactly the kind of mistake that could give away his location.

“Yes, and I also told you that you could leave the house when I'm with the kids.”

“But…”

“But what?” he thundered, so afraid for his kids and their sanity that he lost control of his temper. Lacy already didn't sleep through the night. He didn't want her life to become a circus. “You haven't had the kids at all. I told you that the housework was secondary. Why, exactly, couldn't you leave?”