Nanny Next Door (4 page)

“Yesterday you said April drooled on your cell phone so I assumed she was a dog.”

“A puppy couldn’t be much more destructive. She puts everything in her mouth.”

He watched as his new neighbor laid the baby against her shoulder, rubbing her back. Sydney wasn’t beautiful in the conventional sense, but there was something about her, something that appealed to him. The eyes that were a little too round, the slightly upturned nose that was too cute to belong to a mature woman, and the sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks that made her look twelve. Although, he was guessing she was probably only a few years younger than him.

She wasn’t wearing much makeup, although she was attractive enough without it. Her hair was twisted up and fastened in a large clip. The loose wavy strands falling out from every direction gave her a natural, unspoiled appearance—bordering on wild and unruly. He tried to picture her prim and proper in the typical teacher wardrobe, but the only image he could conjure up was one of her sitting in a field of wildflowers, a chain of daisies around her head, holding her fingers up in a peace sign.

She cradled April against her bosom, which Daniel couldn’t help but admire, and the baby instantly quieted. If he were nestled against her breasts he wouldn’t be complaining, either.

Yeah, right, as if
that
would ever happen. As if his life wasn’t complicated enough. He had a strict rule of never dating a single mom. Or a next-door neighbor. He tended to stay clear of divorcees, too.

“Her belly is tight,” Sydney said.

Daniel’s pulse skipped, his first thought being cysts or tumors or ruptured embolisms—proof he’d been watching too many hours of The Learning Channel all those late nights he’d spent pacing the floor, trying to get April to sleep. “Is that bad?”

“She probably has a gas bubble to work loose. Can I sit with her on the couch?”

“Sure.” He led Sydney back to the living room. Gas he could deal with. He’d even grown accustomed to changing diapers, including the messier variety, when the stuff wouldn’t stay
in
the diaper.

Sydney sat April on her lap facing Daniel and, supporting the baby’s chest and neck, gently rocked her back and forth. Within seconds April stopped fidgeting and her plump little body relaxed. His new neighbor definitely had a way with babies. Why couldn’t he find someone like this to babysit?

He’d received three calls that morning. Two were from college students and neither willing to work even close to the hours he needed. The other was from Margie at the station, with a message from his boss wondering when he would be back to work. If Daniel didn’t find a sitter by Monday, it could mean his job.

He watched Sydney. She was talking softly to April, her voice soothing and patient.

“I guess she likes rocking like that,” he said.

Sydney nodded. “It always worked for Lacey—my daughter. I just love little girls at this age. They’re so sweet and innocent, then they get older and start piercing things and dyeing their hair.”

“I saw her this morning. She’s…colorful.”

“And she came home with her eyebrow pierced last night. I just know the navel is next. When there’s nothing left to pierce I’m sure she’ll move on to tattoos.”

He hoped he found April’s family before he had to deal with anything like that. “You said you’re a teacher. What grade?”

“Preschool.”

“Sounds…demanding.”

“It can be, but I love it. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.”

“Where do you teach?”

Her smile wavered. “I’m sort of between jobs at the moment.”

He wondered if she might be interested in babysitting for him until she found a new job. But as quickly as the idea formed, he dismissed it. Why would a teacher settle for a temporary babysitting gig? He could never match her salary.

April tensed suddenly, bucked in Sydney’s lap and erupted like a volcano, spewing partially digested baby formula across the room. Daniel jumped out of the way but he was too slow. “Holy crap!”

“Projectile spit-up,” Sydney said.

“I’ve never seen her do that before.” He grabbed a burp cloth from the back of the couch and wiped curdled formula off his pant leg. “That must have been one heck of a gas bubble.”

Daniel got on his hands and knees and cleaned up the mess. April was limp in Sydney’s arms, her eyelids drooping. “She looks tired.”

Sydney stood and gently raised April onto her shoulder. “Would you like me to lay her down in her crib?”

“That would be great.”

Sydney carried April into the bedroom and placed her in the crib on her side, propping a blanket behind her back to hold her in place. April stirred for a moment, then curled her fist to her mouth and suckled in her sleep.

“I’ve never put her on her side before,” Daniel whispered. “Will she sleep better?”

“Mine did. When she starts rolling over by herself you can put her on her stomach.”

They stood together in silence, watching April sleep. Just an inch to the right and their forearms would touch, and for some reason the idea excited him. He glanced over at Sydney and she smiled, gazing up at him through a fringe of thick dark lashes. He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were the same shade of blue as April’s.

Maybe it was a sign.

It was a sign, all right. A sign that he needed to stay as far from this woman as humanly possible. Yes, she was hot, but she also had a kid, and she was the ex-wife of the most powerful man in town. He wasn’t intimidated by the mayor and his lynch gang, but why invite drama to his life?

He gestured to the door and she followed him out into the hallway. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem. I take you don’t have much experience with babies.”

They walked to the living room. “Is my incompetence that obvious?”

She smiled, and it was somehow sweet and sexy at the same time. “You’re babysitting?”

“Sort of. But there’s a chance she could be with me awhile.”

“Days?”

“Or months. It’s tough to say at this point.”

“Oh,” she said, looking puzzled. “She’s yours?”

“Not exactly. It’s…complicated.”

He could see that she was curious to know more, but to her credit, she didn’t ask.

“I don’t suppose you could recommend a babysitter?” he asked. “If I don’t get back to work soon, I’m going to be out of a job.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t needed one in years.” There was brief moment of awkward silence, then Sydney said, “Well, I should get home.”

“Thanks again for your help. And for the casserole.” He walked her to the door and pulled it open. “I’ll bring your dish back later.”

“No rush, and if April gives you any more trouble, just holler. I’ll be home all day.” She edged toward the door, glancing down the hall. “You could burp her in the middle of her feeding. That might settle her stomach and cut down on gas.”

“I’ll try that.”

She took one step over the threshold. “And you could try soy formula. Some babies develop allergies to the regular kind. That could be why she’s getting an upset tummy.”

“Thanks, I’ll remember that.”

“Or you could—” She stopped, smiling sheepishly. “I’m sorry. You’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.”

“Thanks, neighbor.” He closed the door behind her and watched through the front window as she made her way across the lawn, her behind swaying beneath snug denim. And that hair. What was it about redheads that made him want to growl?

Abruptly, he turned away. No more leering at her, especially if he planned to talk her into working for him. Which he was seriously considering now, he realized. Temporarily, of course, until he found someone else and she found a job. He’d seen that sappy, lovesick look in her eyes when she’d held April. And he’d recognized her hesitancy before she left, as if he was totally unqualified to be alone with an infant. Which, let’s face it, he probably was.

And his incompetence might be just the thing that would get her eating out of the palm of his hand.

No wonder Lacey never seemed to hear her; the kid was probably deaf.

Sydney wasn’t crazy about Lacey dating someone several years older, but Shane seemed like a decent kid and he came from a good family. Besides, forbidding Lacey to see Shane—as Jeff had wanted to do—would only make him that much more appealing. Having had a thing for bad boys when she was younger, Sydney knew this for a fact. It was how she’d ended up in Northern California in the first place. She’d followed her boyfriend—for which her mother had never forgiven her. And as her mom had predicted, the relationship hadn’t lasted.

But then Jeff had taken an interest in her. Fifteen years her senior, he was rich, sophisticated and powerful. And worse for her than any “bad boy” she could have ever chosen.

How was that for irony?

Lacey ambled up the driveway, her usual obstinate self. “I’m home on time today. Are you happy?”

“Good. You can help with these.” She thrust the heaviest bag in her daughter’s arms, listening with morbid satisfaction to her grumble all the way inside. Sydney grabbed the last two bags and was walking to the side door when she heard a bloodcurdling scream. She charged inside and nearly collided head-on with Fred McWilliams, Jeff’s handyman.

“You scared me, Fred!” Sydney dropped the bags on the kitchen table. “What are you doing here?”

Lacey glared at him, her eyes reduced to slits. “I was putting away the groceries and he snuck up behind me.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean to scare her. Mr. Harris asked me to come by and see about the air conditioner.”

Sydney held back her anger. Wasn’t it just like Jeff to send someone out without warning her first? And she didn’t appreciate him giving people her key. Well, it wasn’t Fred’s fault.

“I know Mr. Harris probably told you to come right in, but I’d like my key back.”

“Sure, Mrs. Harris.” With his bony shoulders stooped, he lumbered down the basement stairs.

“That guy gives me the creeps,” Lacey said after his footsteps faded.

“He’ll be gone soon,” Sydney assured her.

“He’s a weirdo.”

“No, he’s just a little slow.”

Sydney was sure he was harmless, but deep down he gave her the creeps, too. The way he stared blankly from under his greasy brown hair with beady eyes. He had deep acne scars, and always reeked of strong body odor.

“By the way,” Lacey said. “Did you know we have a
cop
living next door?”

“I know. I met him yesterday. He seems…nice.”

Lacey raised her slightly swollen brow.

“Not all police are bad, honey.”

“How do you know he doesn’t work for Dad, and he moved in next door to spy on us?”

Because your father doesn’t care enough to take the trouble, she wanted to say, but held her tongue. “He seems okay.”

“Veronica thinks he’s hot.”

Veronica would be correct.

“For an old guy,” she added.

He couldn’t be more than forty, though she was guessing closer to thirty-five. Sydney’s age. “Old?”

Lacey rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.” She rummaged through one of the grocery bags and pulled out a bag of corn chips. “What’s for dinner?”

“Chicken casserole, and don’t even think about ruining your appetite with those chips.”

“Fine.” Lacey dropped the bag on the table. “I’m gonna work on my tan.”

Sydney put away the groceries and popped the casserole into the oven. Gathering the ingredients for a salad, she chopped lettuce, tomatoes and carrots, dumping them all in a bowl. Turning to get the salad dressing from the fridge, she nearly plowed into Fred. She let out a startled squeak.

How long had he been standing there? “I didn’t hear you come up the stairs, Fred. What do you want?”

“Sorry, ma’am.” He sniffed loudly and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I’m finished.”

“Fine.”

“You want that fixed, too?” He gestured to the hole in the wall she hadn’t yet gotten around to repatching.

“No, thanks, I’ll take care of that myself.”

He didn’t move.

“Is there anything else?”

His bushy dark brows knit together. “Mr. Harris said you’d pay me.”

“Oh, did he?” Bastard. She folded her arms over her chest. “Well, you tell Mr. Harris it’s not my responsibility.”

He still didn’t budge, so she walked over to the side door and opened it. “Goodbye, Fred.”

He sidled through, but she didn’t miss the look of contempt he shot her as he passed. Tough. Jeff knew darn well the maintenance on the house was his responsibility.

Flinging the door shut, Sydney turned to the fridge for a bottle of Italian dressing and grabbed the cucumber she found hidden behind the mayonnaise jar. She put the dressing on the counter and dropped the cuke on the cutting board.

As she assembled the salad, she glanced out the window to the backyard. Lacey was in her bikini, sunning herself on a lounge chair, headphones on, her head swaying to the music. Sydney couldn’t remember ever feeling so carefree as a teenager.

When she was thirteen, her dad bailed on them after years of dealing with her mom’s chronic bouts of depression. Her mom had been so devastated by his leaving that for months she had barely been able to function. It had been up to Sydney to take care of her. But when her mother still refused to get help after a couple of years, Sydney had started to rebel. Deep down, she thought she could shake some sense into her mother.

She started small. Things like staying out past her curfew, and hanging out with boys who were much older. When that didn’t work, she graduated to smoking and causing trouble at school. She lost track of how many times she’d been suspended. Then, when she was seventeen, she’d been hauled in for underage drinking and possession of marijuana. When her mom didn’t show up to bail her out, it was the last straw.

Her boyfriend at the time, a twenty-two-year-old with zero potential, had been talking for months about moving to California, and for her it was the ultimate rebellion. So, off she went. Their relationship lasted six months, but by then Sydney was eighteen and had a decent job working as a server in a local pub. That was where she met Jeff. He’d showered her with affection and attention—the two things she had always craved from her mother but had never received—and treated her like a princess. By the time she realized that he was arrogant, dishonest and overbearing, she was pregnant with Lacey and felt she had to marry him.

She stayed with him for their daughter’s sake, despite his many affairs. But clearly that had done more harm than good. For her and Lacey.

Sometimes when she looked at Lacey, it was like looking in the mirror. Which was why she tried so hard to shelter her from the worst of it. She needed time to just…be a kid.

Lacey was now drumming her knees to the beat of the music and lip-syncing the words. Sydney smiled. Everything she’d worked for, the peace she fought for, was all for Lacey.

Sydney set the table and, as an afterthought, chopped an onion to go with the salad.

“Dinner ready?” Lacey asked from behind her, and Sydney jumped a mile, nearly chopping off a few fingers in the process.

“Please stop sneaking up on me,” she said, glancing at her daughter, discreetly checking her bikini-clad body for new holes.

“Fred just left.” Lacey plucked a cherry tomato from the bowl and popped it in her mouth. “He was watching me.”

Sydney’s brow furrowed. Hadn’t Fred left a while ago? “What do you mean, watching you?”

“I mean, I opened my eyes and he was standing by the side of the house looking at me, then he walked away. He’s a total creep.”

“You know, I’m beginning to agree with you, Lacey. If you see him again, you let me know, and keep your distance.”

“Like I’d want to be anywhere near him,” she scoffed. “He’s gross. When’s dinner?”

“Ten minutes. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Sydney finished dinner, keeping an eye out the kitchen window in case Fred returned. He had no business staring at Lacey. The idea made her uneasy. Maybe he wasn’t as harmless as they had thought…and he’d forgotten to give her key back. Or maybe he hadn’t forgotten. Maybe he’d kept it on purpose. And now he could get in whenever he felt like it.

First thing in the morning, she would call a locksmith and have every lock in the house changed. If Fred had the gall to stand there and leer at Lacey in broad daylight, who knew what he was capable of in the privacy of a house.

Later that evening, when Lacey went out to a movie with Shane, Sydney stood on the porch until the car was out of sight, and couldn’t shake the feeling she was being watched.

You’re imagining things,
she assured herself. But as the sun began to set, casting long, eerie shadows, she began to think that waiting until morning to change the locks had been a bad idea. She pulled out the phone book, but every place that she called was either closed or couldn’t come until the morning. She made an appointment for 9:00 a.m. then turned on every light in the house and locked all of the windows. She even hooked a chair under the doorknob in the living room—just in case.

God help me if there’s a fire,
she thought, hitching a second chair under the knob of the side door. She would just have to sit up and wait for Lacey, so she could let her in the house.

She jumped when the phone rang.

“My secretary told me you called,” Jeff said, sounding annoyed.

“Fred came by today. I don’t ever want to see him here again.”

“Jesus, what’s your problem now?”

“He scares Lacey.”

“So?”

“What do you mean,
so?
She was lying out in a bikini and she said he was watching her. It makes her uncomfortable and it worries me. What do you really know about him?”

“He’s a good handyman and he’s cheap. If you don’t like it, pay for the damned repairs yourself.”

“You’re willing to put our daughter’s peace of mind, not to mention her safety, at risk to save a few dollars?”

“Lacey would say anything for attention. Get a clue.”

Get a clue? Was he kidding? He was the clueless one.

“I’m tired of you using Lacey to manipulate me. Keep it up and I’ll have to sic my lawyer on you. You’re warping our daughter and I won’t let you get away with it.”

She heard a loud click and the phone went dead. “You stupid jerk.”

She slammed the phone down and paced the kitchen floor, hating Jeff more than she’d ever hated another human being. And calling Jeff a human being was a serious stretch in itself. He was lower than human, lower than—

A flash of movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention and she spun toward the side door. She froze, her heart battering her rib cage. The curtains were open a fraction of an inch and she saw a glimmer of color under the side porch light.

Someone was outside.

Would Fred have the nerve to come right up to a lit doorway and force his way in? He couldn’t be that demented. She slowly leaned forward, craning her neck to peek past the curtains, and nearly jumped out of her skin at the loud rap.