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The Summer Of Sunshine And Margot
Susan Mallery


The Baxter sisters have only ever had one another – until one fateful summer when Sunshine and Margot turn disastrous luck into destiny… Etiquette coach Margot Baxter knows precisely how to manage wayward clients…until she comes face-to-exquisite-face with Bianca, an aging movie star notorious for her shock-and-awe tactics. Schooling Bianca on the fine art of behaving like a diplomat’s wife is the greatest challenge of Margot’s career. Soon secrets unravel that bring them closer together and force Margot to confront the truth: change doesn’t just happen. She has to be brave enough to demand the life – and love – she’s always wanted. For years, Sunshine has been the good-time sister, abandoning jobs to chase after dreams that will never come true. No more. She refuses to be "that girl" again. This time, she’ll finish college and dedicate herself to her future. And she 100 percent will not let her life get derailed by a man again…no matter how tempting that man may be. Master storyteller Susan Mallery weaves threads of family drama, wit, heart and a wish-you-were-there setting into one of the most satisfying books of the year! Praise for Susan Mallery‘Susan Mallery never disappoints and with Daughters of the Bride she is at her storytelling best. ’Debbie Macomber, #1 New York Times bestselling author ‘Heartfelt, funny, and utterly charming all the way through!’Susan Elizabeth Phillips, New York Times bestselling author, on Daughters of the Bride ‘A compelling contemporary fairy tale that culminates in a satisfyingly happy ending. Readers will snap up this escapist summer read. ’Booklist on When We Found Home ‘The characters will have you crying, laughing, and falling in love…. Another brilliantly well-written story. ’San Francisco Book Review on The Friends We Keep, 5 Stars ‘It’s not just a tale of how true friendship can lift you up, but also how change is an integral part of life…. Fans of Jodi Picoult, Debbie Macomber, and Elin Hilderbrand will assuredly fall for The Girls of Mischief Bay. ’Bookreporter







The Baxter sisters have only ever had one another—until one fateful summer when Sunshine and Margot turn disastrous luck into destiny...

Etiquette coach Margot Baxter knows precisely how to manage wayward clients...until she comes face-to-exquisite-face with Bianca, an aging movie star notorious for her shock-and-awe tactics. Schooling Bianca on the fine art of behaving like a diplomat’s wife is the greatest challenge of Margot’s career. Soon secrets unravel that bring them closer together and force Margot to confront the truth: change doesn’t just happen. She has to be brave enough to demand the life—and love—she’s always wanted.

For years, Sunshine has been the good-time sister, abandoning jobs to chase after dreams that will never come true. No more. She refuses to be “that girl” again. This time, she’ll finish college and dedicate herself to her future. And she 100 percent will not let her life get derailed by a man again...no matter how tempting that man may be.

Master storyteller Susan Mallery weaves threads of family drama, wit, heart and a wish-you-were-there setting into one of the most satisfying books of the year!


Praise for Susan Mallery

“Susan Mallery never disappoints and with Daughters of the Bride she is at her storytelling best.”

—Debbie Macomber, #1 New York Times bestselling author

“Heartfelt, funny, and utterly charming all the way through!”

—Susan Elizabeth Phillips, New York Times bestselling author, on Daughters of the Bride

“A compelling contemporary fairy tale that culminates in a satisfyingly happy ending. Readers will snap up this escapist summer read.”

—Booklist on When We Found Home

“Mallery is the master of blending emotionally believable characters in realistic situations. Her engaging and comically touching Mischief Bay series continues to satisfy lovers of women’s fiction.”

—Library Journal on A Million Little Things

“The characters will have you crying, laughing, and falling in love.... Another brilliantly well-written story.”

—San Francisco Book Review on The Friends We Keep, 5 stars

“It’s not just a tale of how true friendship can lift you up, but also how change is an integral part of life.... Fans of Jodi Picoult, Debbie Macomber, and Elin Hilderbrand will assuredly fall for The Girls of Mischief Bay.”

—Bookreporter

“An emotional and humorous look at the bonds between the women in an endearingly flawed family.”

—Kirkus Reviews on Sisters Like Us

“Mallery brings her signature humor and style to this moving story of strong women who help each other deal with realistic challenges, a tale as appealing as the fiction of Debbie Macomber and Anne Tyler.”

—Booklist on California Girls


Also by Susan Mallery

California Girls

When We Found Home

Secrets of the Tulip Sisters

Daughters of the Bride

Happily Inc

Not Quite Over You

Why Not Tonight

Second Chance Girl

You Say It First

Mischief Bay

Sisters Like Us

A Million Little Things

The Friends We Keep

The Girls of Mischief Bay

For a complete list of titles available from Susan Mallery, please visit www.susanmallery.com (http://www.susanmallery.com).


Susan Mallery

The Summer of Sunshine & Margot







ISBN-13: 9781474098984

The Summer of Sunshine and Margot

Copyright © 2019 by Susan Mallery, Inc.

All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

Version: 2019-06-06


Susan Mallery is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of novels about the relationships that define women’s lives—family, friendship and romance. Library Journal says, “Mallery is the master of blending emotionally believable characters in realistic situations,” and readers seem to agree—forty million copies of her books have been sold worldwide. Her warm, humorous stories make the world a happier place to live.

Susan grew up in California and now lives in Seattle with her husband. She’s passionate about animal welfare, especially that of the two ragdoll cats and adorable poodle who think of her as Mom.

Visit Susan online at susanmallery.com (http://susanmallery.com).


Contents

Chapter One (#u7c1d6a00-8aa5-57bf-8810-67e605ff6750)

Chapter Two (#ue5cdb038-741a-573e-9aeb-7586ff63ba19)

Chapter Three (#u558b3f35-419f-5301-ba92-50f523759907)

Chapter Four (#ufe6d9de1-a8cd-59c6-ac59-f023a73033d0)

Chapter Five (#u874aefbf-2b07-5c76-b37a-b0d2f7a40794)

Chapter Six (#u05d919ea-625a-5e32-9846-d286fa7021ce)

Chapter Seven (#u1b562eb0-cc79-5532-b7de-62bf4c60f4cd)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Reader Discussion Guide (#litres_trial_promo)

Author’s Note (#litres_trial_promo)

Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)

Margot’s Shortcut Coq Au Vin (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

Social interactions fell into two categories—easy or awkward. Easy was knowing what to say and do, and how to act. Easy was witty small talk or an elegant compliment. Awkward social interactions, on the other hand, were things like sneezing in your host’s face or stepping on the cat or spilling red wine on a white carpet. Or any carpet, for that matter. Margot Baxter prided herself on knowing how to make any situation fall into the easy category. Professionally, of course. In her professional life, she totally kicked butt. Personally—not so much. If she was being completely honest, she would have to admit that on most days her personal life fell firmly in the awkward category, which was why she never mixed business and pleasure and rarely bothered with pleasure at all. If it wasn’t going to go well, why waste the time?

But work was different. Work was where the magic happened and she was the one behind the curtain, moving all the levers. Not in a bad way, she added silently. It was just that she was about empowering her clients—helping them realize it was all about confidence, and sometimes finding confidence required a little help.

She turned onto the street where her nav system directed her, then blinked twice as she stared at the huge double gates stretching across a freeway-wide driveway. She’d been told the private residence had originally been a monastery built in the 1800s, but she hadn’t expected it to be so huge. She’d been thinking more “extra-big house with a guest cottage and maybe a small orchard.” What she faced instead was a three-story, Spanish-style former church/monastery with two turrets, acres of gardens and an actual parking lot for at least a dozen cars.

“Who are these people?” she asked out loud, even though she already knew the answer. Before interviewing a potential client, she always did her research. Overdid it, some would say, a criticism she could live with. Margot liked being thorough. And on time. And tidy. And, according to some, annoying.

Margot pressed the call button on the electronic pad mounted perpendicular to the gate and waited until a surprisingly clear voice said, “May I help you?”

“I’m Margot Baxter. I have an appointment with Mr. Alec Mcnicol.”

“Yes, Ms. Baxter. He’s expecting you.”

The gates opened smoothly and Margot drove through onto the compound. She parked in one of the marked spots, then took a moment to breathe and collect her thoughts.

She could do this, she told herself. She was good at her job. She liked helping people. Everything was going to be fine. She was a professional, she was trained and she was calm. Calm-ish, she added silently, then reached for the glasses she’d put on the seat next to her briefcase.

Margot stepped out of her car and smoothed the front of her slightly too-big jacket. The outfit—gray suit, sensible pumps, minimal makeup—was designed to make her appear professional and competent. The glasses, while unnecessary, did a lot to add gravitas to her appearance. She was thirty-one, but in shorts and a concert T-shirt, she could pass for nineteen. Even more depressing, in said shorts and T-shirt, she looked ditzy and incompetent and just a little bit dumb, and that didn’t reassure anyone.

She walked up the stone path to the enormous front door. Although she knew nothing about Spanish architecture, she wanted to trace the heavy carved wood doors where angels watched over Christ as he carried the cross toward a hill. Yup, the big-as-a-stadium building really had once been a monastery and apparently the monks had been sincere in their worship.

Before she could get her fill of the amazing craftsmanship, the doors opened and a tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired man nodded at her.

“Ms. Baxter? I’m Alec Mcnicol. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Thank you.”

She stepped inside and they shook hands. She had a brief impression of two-story ceilings and intricate stained glass windows before Alec was leading her down a hallway into a large office lined with bookshelves and framed maps of lands long forgotten.

She did her best not to gawk at her surroundings. While she was used to working with the rich and famous, this was different. The books made her want to inhale deeply to capture their musty smell and the maps had her itching to trace a path along the Silk Road.

She’d taken a step to do just that when her host cleared his throat.

She glanced at him and smiled. “Sorry. Your office is incredible. The maps are hand drawn?”

He looked slightly startled, his eyebrows coming together in an attractive frown. “They are.”

She looked at them one last time. If she got the job, she would have to ask permission to study the framed drawings. She reluctantly pulled her attention away from the distractions around her and took a seat across from him at the wide desk.

When he was settled, he said, “As I explained on the phone, you’re here to help my mother.”

“Yes, Mr.—”

“Please call me Alec.”

She nodded. “I’m Margot, and yes, I understand she will be my client.”

“Excellent. She and I decided it would be easier if I conducted the preliminary interview to see if you and she are suited.”

“Of course.”

Margot relaxed. Hiring someone like her was often stressful. Her services were only required when something had gone very wrong in a person’s life. Or if the potential client was anticipating something going wrong. Or was overwhelmed. Very few people looked around at their happiest moment and thought, Hey, I should find someone to teach me social etiquette and how not to be odd/uncomfortable/weird or just plain nervous. There was always a trigger that made a client realize he or she needed Margot’s services and it rarely grew out of an uplifting event.

Alec glanced at the papers on his desk. They were arranged in neat piles, which Margot appreciated. How could anyone find anything on a messy desk? Her boss, a man whose desk was always covered with folders and notes and half-eaten sandwiches, was forever sending her articles on how messy desks were a sign of creativity and intelligence, but Margot would not be swayed in her opinion. Disorder was just plain wrong.

“You know who my mother is?” Alec asked, his voice more resigned than curious.

Margot filed away the tone to review later. The dynamic between mother and son could be significant to her work.

“I do. Bianca Wray was born in 1960. Her father died when she was an infant and she was raised by her mother until she was twelve.” Margot frowned. “Why she was put in foster care isn’t clear, but that’s where she ended up.”

She flashed Alec a smile. “She was literally discovered while drinking a milk shake with her girlfriends, propagating the myth that in Los Angeles anyone, at any moment, is just one lucky break away from being famous.”

“You’ve discovered my deepest wish in life,” Alec said drily.

“Mine, too,” Margot said, allowing her mouth to curve slightly at the corners. “After a career in modeling, your mother turned to acting. She preferred quirky roles to the obvious ingenue parts that would have helped her have a more successful career. She had one son—you—when she was twenty-four. She and your father, a Swiss banker, never married, but you were close to both your parents.”

As she spoke, she sensed tension in Alec’s shoulders as if he were uncomfortable with her reciting the facts of his personal life. He might not be her client, but he was her client’s son and therefore of note, she thought, but didn’t bother explaining herself. Her methods were excellent and if he couldn’t see that, then this was not the job for her.

“Bianca is a free spirit, and despite facing her sixtieth birthday, is still considered a beauty. She acts in the occasional project. From what I could see, there doesn’t seem to be a pattern in why she chooses the roles she does. She enjoys remodeling homes and has made a lot of money flipping upscale houses. She gives generously to charity and has had many lovers in her life, but has never married. She is currently dating a man named Wesley Goswick-Chance. Mr. Goswick-Chance is the youngest son of an English earl. His parents divorced when he was an infant and he grew up in both England and the small European country of Cardigania. He is currently their senior attaché to the United States. He is stationed at the consulate here in Los Angeles.”

There was a lot more she could have mentioned about Alec’s mother. There was the time Bianca had been presenting at the Academy Awards and had dropped her dress on national television. Or her sex tapes that, back in the 1990s, had been quite the scandal, although they were fairly tame by today’s standards. Bianca was a colorful protestor, a woman who slept with kings, movie stars, artists and, according to some gossip that was never confirmed, had once had a torrid affair with the wife of the world’s largest yacht builder. While Margot would never admit it to anyone, she was equally intrigued and terrified by the idea of working with Bianca.

“That was very thorough,” Alec said with a sigh. “And thank you for not mentioning all the salacious bits I’m sure your research uncovered.”

Margot nodded. “Of course.”

He looked at her. His eyes were very nice—dark, with thick lashes. She could see traces of his mother in his appearance—the eyes she’d admired, the curve of his mouth.

“My mother has recently accepted a proposal of marriage,” Alec said, his voice stiff. “From Wesley. He’s a nice enough man and he makes her happy, so I have no objection to the union.”

Margot waited quietly, not showing her surprise. How unexpected that, after sixty years and countless lovers, Bianca had finally gotten engaged.

Alec’s gaze was steady. “If Wesley were a shipping magnate or a movie star, there wouldn’t be an issue. But he is a diplomat and as such, he moves in the kind of circles that will not be very accepting of my mother’s somewhat, ah, eccentric ways.”

“She wants to learn how to fit in.”

“Yes. To be clear, hiring you was her idea, not mine. I’m not pushing her into anything. She’s worried that her impulsive behavior will be a problem for Wesley and she claims she loves him enough to want to change for him.”

“What do you think?” Margot asked.

Alec hesitated, his gaze shifting from hers. “I believe most people are who they are. Asking Bianca to be a staid, polite and unobtrusive person is like asking the sun to shine less brightly. Ambitious, but unlikely.”

She’d wondered if he would say it was wrong for Wesley to not accept his fiancée as she was. Interesting that Alec had gone in a different direction. “You’re saying she can’t change.”

“I’m saying it’s improbable.” He returned his attention to her and leaned forward. “My mother is funny, charming and generous to a fault. I’m confident you will enjoy her company but if you take this job thinking you’re going to succeed, I’m concerned you’ll be very disappointed.”

Margot smiled. “You’re warning me off?”

“I’m suggesting you consider the possibility of failure.”

“Which only makes me want to take the job more, Alec, if for no other reason than to prove myself.”

“Not my intent, but I can see how it would happen.”

He relaxed as he spoke. Margot found herself as curious about her client’s son as she was about her client. She’d done preliminary research on Alec, in the context of him being Bianca’s only family. She knew that Alec was a scholar who studied ancient texts. When he’d inherited the monastery nearly six years ago, he’d done extensive remodeling, turning much of the space into a research center for the study of obscure written works. He was reclusive, had never married and was rarely photographed. A few people had described him as stodgy and boring, but she knew they were wrong on both counts. Alec was a man who kept tight control over his emotions—a trait she could respect. To her mind, order was a kind of meditation that should be embraced by all.

“Shall we?” he asked, coming to his feet.

She rose as well and followed him out of the office and down a long hallway that opened onto the grounds. The hallway ceiling was fifteen feet high and all hand-carved wood. The stone floor was smooth and she could see faint grooves from the thousands of feet that had walked this same path. She wanted to ask about the history of the monastery and what it was like to live here. She wanted to know if sometimes, in the quiet of those hours after midnight, he heard the whispered echoes of so many prayers. Margot didn’t consider herself religious but she admired those who were. Faith must be a wonderful thing. She was just a little too pragmatic to believe that any divine force was going to help her with her life. As such, she believed in being self-reliant.

To her right were huge gardens. The well-kept grounds went on for acres—a private paradise in the middle of Pasadena. She recognized several of the flowers and plants but many were unknown to her.

“The grounds are lovely,” she said, wishing she had time to explore the paths she could see weaving through hedges and by trees.

“Thank you. They were in disrepair when I inherited the place but I hired a landscape architect to clean things up. He’s done a good job.”

He paused by a stone path and turned to her. “My mother recently sold her house and has moved in with me until the wedding,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “Should you take the job, she would like you to stay here, as well, for the time you’re working together.” He glanced at her. “Just to be clear, my mother sometimes keeps odd hours.”

“Many clients do,” she assured him, thinking of the business executive who had wanted to work on his Chinese etiquette between four and six in the morning.

“She’s not—” he began, then pressed his lips together. “My mother is—” He shook his head. “You’ll have to see for yourself.”

He started across the lawn toward the garden. Margot followed him along the stone path that was just as worn as the open hallway had been. They passed between two flowering trees onto a huge patio created with paving stones. Stone benches lined the perimeter while hundreds of pots of various sizes overflowed with exotic flowering plants.

The scent was divine—sweet without being cloying. If she had to pick a single word, she would have chosen alive as the fragrance. She found herself longing to sit on one of the stone benches and turn her face to the sun. Farther on, she spotted a table and chairs and desperately wished for a slow-paced dinner at sunset.

“This is the most incredible garden I’ve ever seen,” she admitted, unable to hold in the comment. “It’s magnificent.”

“I can’t take credit.” He gave her a slight smile. “But it is very nice.”

Nice? Iced tea was nice. This was stupendous!

She reminded herself that she was here for an interview and reluctantly let go of her garden lust. As they moved toward the table and chairs, Margot saw a woman seated in a small, hidden alcove, reading a magazine. The woman glanced up when she noticed them and waved a greeting.

Margot rarely worked with celebrities. Her area of expertise was the corporate arena. If you had a quick trip down to Argentina, for example, she was the one who could give you a crash course on things like greetings—while the first greeting with a client or customer involved a handshake, in subsequent meetings, the greeting was likely to be a kiss on the cheek, even if the business meeting was between two men. She could advise that good posture was important and that dinner rarely started before nine. She found comfort in rules and knowing the right thing to do in any situation.

Each employee in her company had a profile that was made available to prospective clients. Coming to an understanding of who worked best with whom was a mutual decision. Movie stars and those in the music business rarely picked Margot and she was fine with that. She’d been on a couple of jobs with directors looking to be more successful in obtaining financing in China, but that was different. Which probably explained why she was unprepared to meet Bianca Wray in person.

Oh, she’d seen pictures of the actress and had watched three of her movies the previous weekend. She was familiar with the sound of her voice and the way she moved, but none of that had equipped her for the reality of seeing her up close.

Bianca was far more delicate in person. Slim, but also small boned. There was a glow to her bare skin, a grace to her movements. Her deep blue eyes were wide and her light brown hair was wavy, and just past her shoulders.

Taken individually, the features were nice enough but unremarkable. Yet there was something about the way they were put together. Something...breathtaking. Margot supposed that was the difference between the chosen and the ordinary. An undefinable quality that couldn’t be manufactured, only recognized and worshipped.

Her great-grandmother had talked about star power. She couldn’t say what it was, but she’d been able to recognize it when she saw it. Bianca had star power. When she smiled, Margot instantly felt like the most special person on earth. Even as she reacted viscerally, the intellectual side of her brain cataloged how Bianca stood, smiled and moved toward them. She was looking for clues to the problem, along with any information that would help her do her job to the best of her ability.

“Have you thought about what I said, Alec?” Bianca asked as she approached. She wore jeans and a loose T-shirt. Nothing out of the ordinary, yet both suited her perfectly. Her feet were bare, her toes painted with little American flags. “I’m sure they would enjoy it.”

Alec exhaled. “My mother thinks I should invite a few nuns over for lunch.”

Margot glanced at him. “You know nuns?”

“No. She wants me to find a local convent and ask them over.”

“Why?”

He looked at her, his expression clearly indicating there was no reasonable explanation and with luck, this, too, would pass.

Bianca stopped in front of them. She was maybe five-four or five-five, at least three inches shorter than Margot.

“Because of what Alec has done with the monastery,” she said, her voice light and happy. “They would be delighted to see how you’ve kept the spirit of the building while modernizing it.”

“The master bedroom is in what used to be the church,” he said drily. “I doubt the nuns would approve.”

Bianca linked arms with him. “Oh, darling, don’t worry about that. It’s not as if you’re having sex there.” She winked at Margot. “Alec goes out for that sort of thing. He’s a little bit like a groundhog. Once a year he makes an appearance, so to speak, then retreats to his regular world.”

Margot wasn’t sure if the comment was meant to shock her or test her or humiliate Alec. Given the warm tone and loving expression, she doubted it was the latter. Still, it was an unusual thing to say to a stranger—especially about her own son.

“I’m Margot. It’s nice to meet you.” Margot held out her hand.

Bianca shook it. “It’s nice to be met.” Her smile broadened. “I’m a fairly hopeless case, as I’m sure Alec has told you. I’m impulsive and reckless and not the sort of person who should be marrying a professional diplomat. But here we are, trying to make it work.” Her smile faltered. “It’s just that Wesley is all I’ve ever wanted. I love him and I don’t want to be the reason he loses his job.”

For a second her eyes were no longer bright but instead filled with fear and uncertainty. Margot studied the flash of emotions and saw the exact moment self-preservation kicked in.

“Imagine falling in love at my age!” she said with a laugh. “What a ridiculous thing. Until now I’ve only really loved one person and that’s Alec.” She smiled up at him. “I’m sure he’ll be delighted to have someone else share that burden.”

Margot nearly felt dizzy from the emotional ping-pong. Bianca had shifted from the odd comment about Alec’s sex life to a flash of honest vulnerability with a quick return to fact, all couched in a protective shield of humor. There was a lot more going on here than the desire to learn which fork to use.

One of the advantages of being socially awkward—not that there were many—was the ability to recognize it in others. Bianca might be more beautiful than 99 percent of the population, but that didn’t mean she was comfortable in her own skin. She was obviously afraid of disappointing everyone she cared about. Perhaps she thought she’d been doing it for years. How intriguing, Margot thought, suddenly itching to get on her computer and begin working on her development program.

Alec squeezed his mother’s hand. “I just want you to be happy.”

Bianca flashed him a smile that was brighter than the sun Alec had mentioned earlier, then turned to Margot. “Shall we have a little talk to see if we suit?”

“I’d like that.”

Bianca led her to the table in the center of the paved garden while Alec retreated to the house. When they were seated across from each other, Bianca studied her for a second.

“You don’t need to wear glasses, do you?”

The question surprised Margot. “No. How did you know?”

“I’ve worn prop glasses before. Why do you do it? No, don’t tell me. Let me guess.” Her gaze turned probing. “You want to look smart. Oh, because you’re pretty. You must be very serious about your work. I never was. I liked acting but I was never passionate about it.” The mega smile returned. “However, they do pay me a ridiculous amount of money for it, so why not?”

One shoulder rose and lowered. “Tell me. Can I be fixed? Do you have the skills to make me just like everyone else?”

Margot saw the trap in the question immediately. She sensed that Bianca was testing her in a hundred different ways and wasn’t sure what that meant. If she was the one who had requested assistance, then surely she was motivated to change. Yet the way she phrased the question...

“I can certainly teach you how to behave in formal occasions, whether social or political,” she began. “As for fixing you, I’m afraid that’s not my job. I want to make you feel comfortable so everyone can get to know who you really are.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Bianca said quickly. “They couldn’t handle the real me.”

“Then the you you want them to know.”

“What’s your background?”

Margot smiled. “I started in hotel management. I received training to work with our international clients and loved it. I was recruited by my current employer and have moved to helping people deal with our ever-shrinking world.”

“Hmm, yes, that’s fascinating, but what’s your background? Where are you from? Who raised you?”

A different question than “tell me about your parents.” It was almost as if Bianca knew there hadn’t been parents. “My maternal great-grandmother,” she said slowly. “She owned a beauty and charm school for nearly fifty years. She trained pageant contestants.”

“Were you in pageants?”

“No. I’m lacking certain skills.” Like the ability to speak to a group. Margot still remembered the first time Francine had made her get up on the mock stage they had in the workroom and address the group. She’d barely taken her place when she’d projectile vomited and promptly fainted. It had been a fairly quick end to any hopes her great-grandmother had had about Margot taking the crown.

Margot had forced herself to overcome her deficiency and could now give a decent lecture, but she would never be a natural up on stage. Not that she’d ever aspired to be a beauty queen. She just wanted to do her job and live her life. Oh, and not be dumb about men, because she’d already done that enough already.

“Alec picked you,” Bianca said. “He looked over all the people at your agency and he picked you. Now I see why.”

Did she? Margot hadn’t known he’d been the one to make the decision. Why her? She wasn’t an obvious choice, was she?

“Can you do it?” Bianca asked before Margot could question her statement. “Can you help me be who I need to be so I don’t embarrass Wesley?”

“Yes.”

“You promise?”

Margot leaned forward. “I will use every technique I have, and if those don’t work, I will create new ones. I will work tirelessly to get you to a place where you are comfortable in Wesley’s world.”

“That’s not a promise.”

“I know. I don’t make promises when I can’t be sure of the outcome.”

Bianca looked away. “I make promises all the time. I rarely keep them. It’s just that in the moment, I want the person to be happy.”

“And later?”

Bianca shrugged again. “They always forgive me. Even Alec.” The smile returned. “All right. Let’s do this. Alec thinks I need about two months of instruction. You’ll have to move in here. There are a few guest rooms upstairs. I have the big one and I’m sorry but I’m not moving out for you.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Margot looked at her potential client. “Bianca, I don’t live that far from here. I could easily drive over—”

“No. You have to stay here. It’ll be like we’re on location. Alec doesn’t care. He rarely looks up from his work to notice anything. The house is beautiful. You’ll love it and I’d feel better if you were close.”

Margot nodded slowly. She’d lived in before. She didn’t prefer it but when the client insisted, she agreed.

“As you wish. I’ll send over the contract as soon as I get back to the office. Once it’s signed and you’ve paid the retainer, I’ll be in touch to discuss a start date.”

“Monday!” Bianca sprang to her feet and raced around the table. She crouched in front of Margot, took both her hands and smiled. “We’ll start Monday. Oh, this is going to be fun. We’ll be best friends and have a wonderful time.”

Bianca rose and twirled, then ran to the house, her laughter trailing after her.

Margot watched her go. There was something, she thought, some secret driving Bianca. Margot wasn’t sure if she was running to something or away from it, but whatever it was, it was the key to the problem. Finding out what it was would be difficult, but she knew in her gut if she could figure out the mystery, she could teach Bianca what she needed to know and be gone in far less time than two months.

She glanced around at the beautiful gardens and the monastery’s worn, red-tiled roof and reminded herself that whatever she might have to deal with while helping Bianca, at least her living quarters were going to be extraordinary. Perhaps, if she were lucky, she might even run into a ghost monk or two.


Chapter Two

Sunshine Baxter was done with love at first sight. D. O. N. E. More times than she could count, she’d looked deeply into a pair of—insert any color here—eyes and immediately given her heart. The relationships had all ended in disaster and she’d hated herself for being so incredibly stupid over and over again, so she decided she was finished with the falling in love concept. Over it. Moving on.

Except...

“I’ve decided,” Connor said, pushing up his glasses, his dark brown eyes staring intently into hers.

Sunshine leaned close, knowing that once again she’d foolishly fallen for an inappropriate guy. “Tell me.”

“Ants.”

Sunshine smiled. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ve read three books on ants and they’re very smart and they work hard. I want to build the world’s biggest ant farm.”

“Okay, then. That’s what we’ll do. We should probably start small,” she told him. “Get a regular-size ant farm and see if we can make it work. Then we’ll add on.”

His mouth began to curve in the most delightful smile. “I thought girls didn’t like ants.”

“I don’t want them crawling in my bed, but I think an ant farm is super cool.”

The smile fully blossomed. Connor ran toward her. She pulled the eight-year-old close and hugged him, telling herself if adoring her new charge qualified as breaking her no-heart-giving rule, then she was willing to live with the disappointment. Connor was irresistible.

He released her and stepped back, nearly slipping off the path and into a tall, aggressive-looking succulent that no doubt had an impressively long Latin name. Sunshine shifted her weight, gently grabbed his arm and spun him out of the way of impalement. Connor barely noticed.

“You’re going to tell me that you have to ask my dad, huh?”

“I am. We’re talking about being responsible for several hundred life-forms. That’s a big deal.”

“You’re right.” He paused, then giggled. “Can I be their king?”

“Of course. Maybe we can teach them to chant ‘All hail Connor.’”

Connor laughed. The desert garden section at The Huntington’s acres of gardens was his favorite. Given that Connor’s father was a landscape architect, Connor and Sunshine both had memberships and in her three weeks of employment as Connor’s nanny, they’d been four times. So far all they’d visited was the desert garden, but she was okay with that. Eventually Connor’s interests would broaden.

He squatted in front of a reddish plant apparently called terrestrial bromeliad and studied it.

“You start school on Monday,” he said.

Something Sunshine didn’t want to think about. Part of her plan to avoid bad relationships and shift her life onto a happier and more positive course meant going to college. Not back so much, as that implied she’d been at one in the first place.

“I do.”

He glanced at her. “Are you scared?”

“I am. Well, maybe scared is strong. I’m nervous.”

“Do you think all the other kids will be smarter than you?”

She grinned. “I wouldn’t have put it like that, but yes, in part. And they’ll be younger.”

He stood up. “As young as me?”

“I think a little older, but certainly not my age.”

She was thirty-one and had absolutely nothing noteworthy to show for her years on the planet. How sad was that?

Connor took her hand. “You don’t have to be scared. You’re smart, too, and we can do homework together.”

She touched his nose. “You’re in third grade. You don’t have much homework.”

“I’ll sit with you and read about ants.”

And this, she thought with a sigh, was why he’d won her heart. Connor was a good kid. He was funny and kind and affectionate. He’d lost his mother to cancer a few months ago and while his father obviously cared about his son, he had a big, impressive job that took a lot of time. Declan had hired a series of nannies, all of whom Connor had rejected within a week. For some reason, the two of them had clicked.

“Come on,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. “Let’s head home. I’m going to make lasagna roll-ups for dinner.”

“What’s a roll-up?”

“It’s all the lasagna goodness rolled up in a noodle.”

His gaze was skeptical. “You’re going to put vegetables in the recipe, aren’t you?”

She grinned. “Yes. Zucchini. Skinny little zucchini French fries.”

“How skinny?”

She thought for a second. “Ant size.”

He sighed. “Okay, but I won’t like it.”

“As long as you eat it.”

An hour and a half later, Sunshine put a completed salad into the refrigerator and glanced at the clock. According to a text from Declan, he was planning on joining them for dinner. She’d set the table for three, but honestly, she wasn’t holding out much hope. Her boss was in the middle of a big project—something about designing the gardens of a new five-star hotel just north of Malibu. Not only was the job time consuming, there was actually no good way to get to Pasadena from anywhere by the beach without dealing with miles of gridlock and hours stuck in traffic. More than once he’d texted to say he would be home in time for dinner only to call her an hour later to say he was still on the freeway and to start without him.

Sunshine didn’t mind when it was just her and Connor, but she knew the boy missed his father when he wasn’t around.

Once he got home, Declan spent the rest of the evening with his son and he was the one to get Connor ready for bed. They were obviously close, which was good. Still, the whole situation remained slightly awkward for her. Normally by the three-week mark of a job, she was comfortable in the house and had a set routine. She and Connor were doing great, but she’d barely seen Declan and they hadn’t talked and she really had to tell him they should have a sit-down at some point. Maybe in the next couple of days.

The first weekend she’d been employed, Declan and Connor had gone to Sacramento to visit Declan’s parents. Last weekend, Declan had been out of town at a conference and this weekend she had no idea what was going on.

“Do you and your dad have plans for tomorrow?” she asked.

“I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. If he’s busy, what do you want to do?”

“I thought we’d go to the Star Eco Station.”

Connor finished putting the flatware in place. “Do I have to hold the tarantula?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“Arachnids aren’t ants,” he said, his tone defensive.

She held up both hands. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m perfectly fine with an ant farm but if you told me you wanted to start a spider colony, I’d run screaming into the night.”

He grinned. “In your pajamas?”

“Very possibly.”

His laughter was interrupted by the sound of the garage door opening.

“Dad’s home! Dad’s home!”

She watched him race across the kitchen and through the mudroom, then looked back at the table. Looked like there would be three for dinner and wouldn’t that be fun.

Not that she was nervous. She wasn’t. It was just she barely knew Declan. Which was fine—tonight they would have a conversation over lasagna roll-ups with ant-sized zucchini.

“...and Sunshine’s going to help me with the ant farm. We’re going to check online tomorrow and it’s okay because I read three books and I’ve checked out two more from the library and I’ll read them this weekend so I’m gonna know everything.”

Based on the framed photographs she’d seen in Connor’s room, Sunshine knew he took after his mother. He was small for his age, with a slight build and dark hair and eyes, so every time she saw Declan, it was something of a shock.

The man was big. Not heavy, but tall with broad shoulders and a lot of muscles. He had sandy-colored hair and green eyes, had to be at least six-two. With her only being five-four, that seemed a little extreme. He wore a suit and tie most days, which somehow made him even more impressive. He also had a presence about him—he was someone who was noticed wherever he went. She didn’t know him well enough to have much of an opinion about him, but he seemed like a decent kind of guy. He loved his son and honestly that was all she cared about.

“Good evening, Mr. Dubois,” she murmured as he set down his briefcase, then swept Connor up in his arms and turned the boy upside down.

As his son hung there, shrieking with happy laughter, Declan met her gaze. “We talked about this, Sunshine. Call me Declan, please.”

“Okay, just checking.”

“I want to keep things casual.”

She liked casual. Now that she thought about it, casual was probably for the best considering she’d kicked off her shoes when she’d walked into the house and was currently standing barefoot, wearing jeans and an oversize T-shirt advertising a bar in Tahiti.

Declan turned Connor right side up, then glanced at the table. “That looks nice. What are we having?”

“Ant food!” Connor told him gleefully. “Zucchini ant sticks.”

“Really?”

“Salad, lasagna roll-ups, garlic knots and zucchini fries,” she corrected.

“The garlic knots are bread,” Connor told his father. “I tied them all myself.”

“Did you?” Declan ruffled his hair. “That’s great. Give me five minutes to get changed and I’ll be back to help.” He picked up his briefcase and started for the hallway, his son at his heels. “Sunshine, do you drink wine?”

“Only on days ending in Y.”

“Good. Why don’t you pick us out a bottle of red from the wine cellar? You know where it is?”

“I do.”

Except for Declan’s bedroom, she’d explored the house that first weekend. She knew every place an eight-year-old boy could hide and had moved a bucket full of different bottles of cleaning solutions out to the garage. Yes, Connor was old enough to know not to play with stuff like that, but why tempt fate?

The house was typical for the neighborhood. Built in the 1920s with a strong Spanish influence, the structure was a U shape with a patio at the center. Just past the kitchen was the mudroom. Beyond that was a family room and then her en suite bedroom. Behind the attached garage was a large workout room she really had to start using.

Exiting the kitchen in the opposite direction led to a formal dining room, a formal living room, then the hallway curved. Declan had an office, then Connor’s room was next, then the master.

The rooms were oversize, the beams in the ceiling original and the garden was something out of a fantasy. Sunshine didn’t know much about plants, but she knew enough to keep her window open so she could smell the night-blooming jasmine just outside.

She walked toward the mudroom, stopping at the walk-in pantry. On the far wall was a wine cellar with glass doors. She figured it must hold at least four hundred bottles of wine, grouped together by type. She pulled out racks, searching for a relatively inexpensive red blend. Dinner was casual and the wine should be, too.

She found a foil cutter and bottle opener in one of the drawers in the pantry and carried the open bottle and two wineglasses back into the kitchen, then opened a bottle of sparkling nonalcoholic apple cider for Connor. If they were going to get fancy, it was nice to share.

While Declan got Connor settled, Sunshine dropped the hot rolls into a large bowl then tossed them with melted butter and garlic. The salad was already in place, as were the plates. She gave Connor and Declan each a roll before putting the extras on the table and taking her chair.

The kitchen table seated six. The three of them were clustered at one end, with her across from Connor. Without thinking, she put salad on his plate, only to realize that might be something his father wanted to do.

“Oh, um, sorry. Did you want to...”

“Go ahead,” Declan said easily, pouring them wine.

She nodded, then waited for him to serve himself before taking the bowl from him and putting salad on her own plate. When she was done, she reached for her glass of wine just as Declan started to hand it to her. They bumped and the glass nearly spilled.

Sunshine felt herself flushing. Great. Just great. The awkward first days were supposed to be over by now. Living in someone’s home, and being an almost-but-not-quite part of the family wasn’t an easy transition.

Declan shook his head. “We have to work on our dinner skills,” he said, his voice teasing.

“Apparently.”

“The last few weeks have been hectic with my work schedule and we haven’t had a chance to get to know each other. If you don’t have plans, why don’t you join me in my study after Connor goes to bed and we’ll talk about how things are going so far.”

“That would be nice,” she said. “Thank you.”

Connor held up his glass of cider. “I want to make a toast.”

“Do you?” Declan raised his wineglass. “What is it?”

Sunshine picked up her glass and waited. She had a feeling this wasn’t going to be the statesmanlike moment Declan seemed to expecting.

Connor grinned. “And jelly.”

“Toast and jelly,” Declan murmured, before taking a sip of his wine. “I couldn’t be more proud.”

Connor giggled. Sunshine winked at him.

“We went to The Huntington after school today,” she said, picking up her fork. “To the desert garden.”

“My favorite!” Connor announced.

“One day I’ll get to see one of the other gardens. At least I hope so.”

Connor raised his shoulders in an exaggerated sigh. “In two more times. I promise.”

“Yay! And thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He turned to his father. “How’s the hotel?”

“Good. The building approval has been finalized, so I can get to work on designing the gardens.” He looked at Sunshine. “The decisions about the materials they’re using will influence what I suggest.”

“Sure. You wouldn’t want the flowers to clash with the siding.”

“Exactly. Connor, how was school?”

“Good. I got an A on my spelling test. We studied really hard.”

“The lesson combined spelling words with different kinds of currency,” Sunshine added. “Euro, yen, ruble, the word currency.”

“That one’s hard,” Connor said as he finished his salad. “And ruble is like rubble but only one b.”

“I’d heard that,” Declan told him. “Good for you.”

Sunshine had just stood to collect the salad plates when Connor piped up with, “Sunshine starts school on Monday and she’s scared.”

“Yes, well, no one’s interested in that,” she murmured, walking into the kitchen and pulling the lasagna roll-ups out of the oven.

“You’re going back to college?” Declan asked.

“Back would be a misstatement, but yes.” She slid the steaming pasta onto plates and carried them to the table. “I’m at Pasadena City College, studying toward a degree in child psychology. I’m starting with my general education classes.”

“Good for you.”

“Thanks.”

Once she was seated, she sipped her wine and told herself she didn’t care what her boss thought of her lack of education. Just because he had an advanced degree and a fancy job and a house and a kid and his life was totally together didn’t matter to her.

She sighed. It wasn’t Declan, she reminded herself. He simply represented everything she didn’t have. Roots. Direction. A plan. Her twenties had raced by in a series of relationships that left her with exactly nothing to show for the time except for a string of bad decisions and broken hearts. Some of those hearts had even been hers.

But that was all behind her now. She’d had a come-to-Jesus moment, she was focused and she had a life plan. And nothing and no one was going to cause her to veer off course. Of that she was sure.

Declan Dubois hadn’t had sex in a year. Until a few weeks ago he, honest to God, hadn’t cared, but recently he’d started to notice and now he cared a lot and it was becoming a problem.

The dry spell had started when he and Iris had been having trouble—if that was what it could be called. Not knowing if their marriage was going to survive or not, he’d taken to sleeping on the sofa in his study. Later, she’d been sick and sex had been the last thing on either of their minds. After her death, he’d been in shock and dealing with the reality of having the woman he’d assumed he would spend the rest of his life with gone. There’d been Connor and helping him handle the loss of his mother. Sex hadn’t been important.

But it sure as hell was now, although he had no idea what he was supposed to do about it. Dating seemed impossible and a few minutes in the shower only got a guy so far. At some point he wanted a woman in his bed, and not just a one-night stand, either. He’d never been that guy. He didn’t need love to get it up but some kind of emotional interest was preferred. He hadn’t been on a first date in ten years—how was he supposed to start now? Where would he meet women? Not through work—that never went well. Online?

He walked the short distance from Connor’s room to his study and told himself he would deal with the problem later. Now that his son was asleep, his more pressing issue was to get to know the woman he’d hired to take care of his kid. Somehow three weeks had sped by. If he wasn’t careful, he would turn around and Connor would be graduating from high school and he still wouldn’t know anything about Sunshine.

He sat at his desk and opened the file the agency had given him when he’d first interviewed her. She’d been the fifth nanny he’d hired and he’d been desperate to find someone his son would like. Iris’s death had been a shock. It had been less than a month from the time he’d found out about the cancer until she’d passed away. There’d been no time to prepare, to be braced, and he was an adult. Connor had a lot less skill to handle the impossibly heartbreaking situation. If Declan’s parents hadn’t come and stayed with them after the funeral, he wasn’t sure either of them would have survived.

He scanned the file. Sunshine was thirty-one. She’d been a nanny on and off from the age of twenty. She had no formal training, no education past high school and a history of walking away from jobs before her contract was finished. He hadn’t wanted to hire her, but he’d been desperate and the agency had insisted he at least talk to her. After blowing through four of their best nannies, he’d realized he couldn’t refuse, so he’d reluctantly met her.

He didn’t remember anything they’d discussed except to insist she and Connor spend a trial afternoon together, supervised by someone from the agency. Connor had come home and announced he liked her and Declan had hired her that evening.

The past three weeks had been a whirlwind of work and travel. He’d wanted to spend more time at home, getting to know her, watching her with Connor, but fate had conspired against him. Still, his son seemed happier than he had in a long time and he sure liked Sunshine.

A knock on his open door brought him back to the present. Sunshine stood in the doorway, her smile tentative.

“Is this a good time?”

He nodded and motioned to the chair on the other side of his desk. Sunshine sat down, then tucked her bare feet under her.

She was nothing like Iris. The thought was unexpected but once formed he couldn’t ignore it. His late wife had been tall and willowy. Delicate, with small bones and long fingers. She’d been pale, with dark hair and dark eyes.

Sunshine was several inches shorter and a whole lot more curvy. Blonde with pale blue eyes. She had full cheeks, large breasts and an ass that... He silently told himself not to go there. Not only wasn’t it appropriate, she wasn’t his type. And again, not appropriate.

Iris favored tailored clothing in black or taupe. From the little he’d seen of Sunshine, she was a jeans and T-shirt kind of woman. She ate cereal out of the box, had no problem lying on the floor to play checkers with Connor and hadn’t protested an ant farm in the house. Again—not Iris.

Not that he wanted anyone to be Iris. His wife had been his first real love and with her gone, he would never be the same. He wasn’t thinking he couldn’t care about someone again, he had no idea about that, he just knew he didn’t want an Iris replacement.

“You and Connor get along well,” he said.

She smiled. Two simple words that in no way captured the transformation from reasonably pretty to stunning. Declan hoped he didn’t look as stupefied as he felt. After all, he’d seen her smile before. He should be used to it, and yet, he was not.

“He’s adorable. How could you not totally fall for him? He’s a serious kid, but also funny and kind. I know he misses his mom, but he’s dealing. We talk about her whenever he wants to. I know he’s going to therapy and I’m hoping it helps. Obviously the therapist doesn’t say anything to me, but I would say he’s coping well.”

Her appreciation of his kid relaxed him. “Connor’s special,” he said, then looked at the open folder on the desk and decided to be blunt. “I wasn’t sure if I should hire you.”

Instead of getting defensive, she laughed. “I could say the same thing about you. I was hoping to go to work for a high-powered single mom, but the director at the agency talked me into meeting Connor and then I was a goner.”

She pointed to the folder. “Is that about me?”

He nodded.

Her full mouth twisted. “Let me guess. The report says I’m terrific with kids. I like them and they like me. I show up on time, I cook, I help with homework, I’m a safe driver. When there’s an emergency, I’m nearly always available. But...” She looked at him. “There’s a very good chance one day I’ll simply disappear with almost no warning. I’m gone and you’re stuck.” She shrugged. “Does that about sum it up?”

Her honesty surprised him. Was it a tactic or genuine? He had no idea.

She sighed. “It’s true. All of it. I’ve walked away from at least a half dozen jobs. I would meet a guy and fall for him and he’d want me to go with him and I would. Just like that.”

“Go with him?”

The smile returned, although with less gut-hitting power. “I tend to fall for men who have unusual occupations or who don’t live wherever I am. A guy in a rock band, a travel photographer, a professional tennis player. One time the family I was working for took me with them to Napa. I met a guy who owned a restaurant and when the family went home, I stayed. On the bright side, he taught me how to cook.”

She looked away. “I was young and reckless and I don’t want do that anymore.” Her gaze returned to him. “I won’t bore you with the details. Let’s just say I woke up alone in a hotel room in London with no job, no boyfriend, no prospects. I flew home and moved in with my sister, then got a couple of jobs because hey, the nanny thing wasn’t working for me or the kids.”

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to hear, but it wasn’t this. “So why are you back being a nanny now?”

“I’m good at it and I need the money. I want to do something with my life. Get an education, have a retirement account, be normal. Working as a nanny allows me to pay for school, have time to study and not have to worry about rent. I want to keep my head down and be smart. No more loser guys. I don’t want to be that girl anymore.”

The smile returned, leaving him just as speechless as before.

“More than you wanted to know,” she said. “I’m being honest. You have no reason to believe any of this. You don’t know me, which is kind of the point of the conversation, right? But I’m committed to Connor. I’m not going to walk away from him.”

“Because you’re not that girl anymore?”

“That’s the reason.”

It was too much information and he didn’t know what to do with it all. She was right—he had no reason to believe her, and yet he did. Was that dumb on his part or intuition? He had no idea.

“Is that also why you wanted to work for a woman?”

She nodded. “I’ve had a couple of dads get handsy. It’s awkward.”

“I assure you I would never—”

She shook her head. “I know. You don’t have to say anything.”

She knew? How? And what did that mean? Had he become so incredibly sexless that...that... Dear God, he couldn’t even formulate the question, let alone answer it.

She laughed. “You look confused. What I meant is you seem to be an honorable person. I appreciate that.”

“Good,” he said, not sure if it was good or not. Time to change the subject. “About your hours. Are they working for you?”

“They’re perfect.”

She was supposed to be available from 6:30 a.m. until 9:00 p.m. with the middle of the day off, five days a week. She also owed him every other Saturday and cooked dinner four nights a week.

“I’m sorry you had to work Sunday when I was on my business trip.”

“Not a problem. You and Connor were gone the previous weekend, so I had that Saturday. Declan, I’m not keeping track of every single minute. If Connor gets up early or stays up late, that’s okay. A lot of my job is being flexible.”

“Thank you.”

He confirmed she knew where all the local stores were, then pulled a credit card out of his desk drawer.

“I ordered this for you,” he said. “It will be easier than giving me receipts and having me reimburse you.” He smiled. “Don’t go to Tahiti on it.”

“Oh darn. And Connor and I were talking about taking a road trip just yesterday.” She took the card. “He seems to be outgrowing some of his pants and his athletic shoes are looking really bad. Do you want me to take him shopping or is that something you prefer to do?”

“You can do it. For the next couple of weeks, I’m going to be knee-deep in the preconstruction planning for the hotel. Once that calms down, I’ll have more time.”

“Okay. Then I’ll get what he needs right now and you can handle the rest. Anything else?”

His gaze moved from her mouth to her—He swore silently, telling himself being a jerk wasn’t allowed. He had to get a grip or, at the very least, get laid. Assuming he remembered how all that happened. He assumed it was like riding a bike—once he and the lady in question were naked, he would know what to do.

“Declan?”

He blinked. “Ah, that will be all.”

She stood and slid the credit card into her back pocket. “Have a good night.”

“You, too.”

He wasn’t sure how good it was going to be but there was a better than even chance he would be taking a shower in a bit. A long one. After he would lie alone in bed both cursing and missing the woman he’d been married to. The one who had betrayed him, then up and died before he could decide if he had forgiven her or not.


Chapter Three

Sunday morning, just before eleven, Sunshine walked into the restaurant. She’d curled her hair, put on makeup and had even worn a dress. Not that she was trying to impress—she was meeting her sister, not anyone who would judge her. Instead, her reasons were more about self-preservation. Whatever Margot showed up wearing, she would be gorgeous and while Sunshine knew she couldn’t compete on the beauty front, she didn’t want to be the cautionary tale. Or just the sexy one.

She gave her name to the hostess. There were at least a couple dozen people waiting for tables, mostly multigenerational families. Sunshine watched grandparents corral toddlers and new mothers fret over babies.

Most of the families looked happy, which she liked to see. Kids deserved to be raised in a home where things went right more often than they went wrong.

Margot walked in and spotted her. The sisters hugged. When they stepped back, Sunshine held in a sigh. Yup, her fraternal twin was stunning in a navy short-sleeved sheath dress. The woven material skimmed her body and fell just to her knee. The neck was high, the cut conservative. Nothing about the dress, the midheel navy pumps or her plain clutch screamed look at me, and still people did. Looked and gawked.

Sunshine knew she got her fair share of attention but it was for the wrong reasons. She was all boobs and butt with a little jiggle thrown in for good measure. Margot was the cover of Vogue while Sunshine was more like a billboard for a gentleman’s club. And people said God didn’t have a sense of humor.

Margot linked arms with her. “How are you? How’s work? Are you nervous about school starting tomorrow? Don’t be. You’ll do great. You’re smart and determined. I’m so proud of you. Look at how quickly you got your life together.”

“Together might be a slight overstatement,” Sunshine murmured as the hostess waved them over.

“Tables for two are easy today,” she said with a smile. “It’s tables for eight that are the problem. If you’ll follow me, please.”

They were shown to a small table tucked in by the window. After they were seated, Margot leaned toward her.

“You’re really okay?”

Sunshine smiled. “You take the older sister thing way too seriously. You only beat me into the world by eight minutes.”

“I can’t help it. You’re my family and I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Sunshine pulled a slim envelope out of her handbag and passed it over. “Proof that I’m perfectly fine. Installment one.”

Margot opened the envelope and wrinkled her nose. She pulled out the check. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“You loaned me the down payment for my car.”

When Sunshine had returned to Los Angeles four months earlier, she’d had zero money but surprisingly good credit. After getting a job as a waitress and a second gig as a clerk at a drugstore, she’d borrowed money from her sister and had managed to swing a car loan. Margot had insisted Sunshine get a couple of thousand into a savings account before paying her back. Thanks to her new nanny job, she was doing much better financially, and could finally start repaying her sister.

Margot sighed. “I didn’t want you to pay me back.”

“Sorry. That was the deal. I’m not a moocher.”

Margot grinned. “You make me crazy.”

“That’s part of the job description. I’m doing good. I love the kid and I start school tomorrow and this is right. I swear.”

“Well, if you swear.”

Their server appeared and told them about the specials, then took their drink orders.

“Champagne,” Margot said firmly.

When the glasses were delivered, Sunshine reached for hers. “To Francine, on her birthday. We love you and miss you and hope that in heaven you’re surrounded by beauty queens.”

Margot touched glasses with her. “To Francine. I know we’re not exactly what you were hoping for, but we love you and appreciate all you did for us.”

They each took a sip in honor of the great-grandmother who had raised them. She’d been gone over a decade, but Sunshine could still hear Francine’s voice in her head. Sit up straight. Don’t cross your legs at the knee. Think tall thoughts. Elegance is always the right choice.

“I was such a disappointment,” she said lightly, having long since accepted the inevitable truth.

“We both were,” Margot murmured. “At least you tried. I was a trembling, whimpering mess.”

“Don’t forget the projectile vomiting.”

“Always a pretty memory.”

They smiled at each other.

“How’s work?” Sunshine asked. “Weren’t you interviewing for a new client?”

“I was and I got it. Should be an interesting one. She’s a mass of contradictions. I have to live in, which I don’t usually love, but the house is great.”

Sunshine knew better than to ask too many questions. Margot was very discreet about her clients and never talked in specifics.

“Where will you be living?”

“I’m staying in Pasadena, so not far from you.”

“Nice. Let me know if you want me to check on your condo. You know my schedule is mostly flexible.”

“Thanks.”

The server returned and they placed their order. When he was gone, Margot picked up her champagne.

“So how’s your newest heartbreaker?”

Sunshine laughed. “Connor is totally adorable. He’s such a good kid. He’s still dealing with losing his mom, but he’s so brave. We’re going to be getting an ant farm.”

Margot shuddered. “Why?”

“He wants one. I think it’ll be fun. Do you know the people who sell them refer to the ants as animals? Connor was right there, so I couldn’t laugh, but jeez, really. Animals? So are they ant ranchers or something?”

Margot chuckled. “And the man of the house?”

“I’m still getting to know him. He seems like a good dad. He’s involved with Connor.”

“A nice change.”

“It is.”

Too many of the parents she’d worked for were not very engaged. They wanted a nanny for convenience and to pass on the responsibility of raising their children to. From what she could tell, Declan was a concerned parent.

“It must be so hard,” she said, fighting sadness. “To lose your spouse when you’re both so young. They would have expected to have a lifetime together and she’s gone.”

“Don’t,” her sister said, her voice kind. “You were going to say you want that, too.”

“Not the dying part. Just the rest of it. You know. Love. The forever kind.”

They looked at each other, then Margot slowly shook her head. “You know it’s not in our DNA.”

“It could be. I want it to be. At least Connor has something to mourn. I don’t. Just a dozen or so bad relationships that I knew were never going anywhere, yet there I was, running out on my life at the first sign of interest. Normal, sensible people don’t do that.”

“Is that what we’re going to be?”

“It’s a good goal. You’re halfway there.”

“Oh please.” Margot picked up her champagne. “I’ve spent the better part of five years being stuck because of a man and the last few years trying to avoid him. I spend so much time trying not to think about him, I can’t seem to think about anyone else. I’m great at my job and sucky at my personal life.”

“You’re not.”

“I am a little.”

Sunshine knew that was kind of true. “I want to be proud of myself,” she admitted. “I want to be a better person and fall in love with someone great. I want a future, not a fling.”

“The normal thing you love so much.”

“You mock normal, but you’d like it, too. You’re just afraid to try. You don’t think you’re capable of loving anyone but Dietrich.”

Margot winced. “While true, a little hedging wouldn’t be out of line.”

“Sorry. I’ll hedge next time.”

Margot thought for a second. “All right, I’ll say it. I want to put my past behind me and move on. I would like to find out if I’m capable of loving someone else. Someone who’s actually good for me.”

“Here’s to us being brave,” Sunshine said, raising her glass. “Or at the very least, not being rash.”

Margot laughed. “To avoiding rashes.”

After brunch, Sunshine ran a few errands before returning to the house. She wanted to spend a couple of hours looking over her incredibly huge math textbook. She’d flipped through the first few chapters twice and still wasn’t sure any part of it was written in English, but maybe this time it would all make sense.

She tried to tell herself that she was taking the class to learn and if she already understood the material, what was the point, but she wasn’t totally convinced. Shouldn’t she at least know something?

She parked her used Honda Civic next to Declan’s BMW SUV, then went inside. After changing into cropped pants and a T-shirt, she headed for the kitchen. She could hear Connor and Declan outside, playing. She filled two glasses with ice and water, and set them out on the counter. She was about to retreat to her room when Declan walked into the kitchen.

He grinned when he saw her. “You’re back. How was your brunch?”

He was casually dressed. His shoulders stretched the seams of his T-shirt and the fabric was soft looking and faded.

“Good. I met my sister. It’s my great-grandmother’s birthday. She died shortly after we graduated from high school but we always go out on her birthday. She would like that we remembered, then she would scold us, pointing out how much sugar was in champagne and that it would go straight to my thighs. Then she would tell me to sit up straight.”

His eyebrows drew together. “She sounds, ah, interesting.”

“She was a pistol, as they say. Until she retired well into her eighties, she ran her own business.” Sunshine made air quotes. “Mrs. Baxter’s School of Charm and Decorum. And no, I’m not kidding.”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“My great-grandmother helped young women become beauty queens. She desperately wanted to train a Miss America, but the closest she got was a runner-up. We were her last hope, but it wasn’t going to happen. I was more than willing, but hardly beauty pageant material.”

Declan looked even more confused. “Why not?”

“Men,” she said with a grin. “I’m too short and way too curvy. Margot’s the beauty in the family. Tall, thin, gorgeous. But she couldn’t deal with the whole being on stage thing. She would either faint or barf. Not a winning strategy. When we were fourteen, Francine closed the school and we moved to Las Vegas.”

“My head is spinning,” Declan told her. “I had no idea you had such a checkered past.”

“There are surprising depths. Just let me know if you ever want to learn a three-point runway turn. I’m an expert.”

“Now you’re scaring me.”

Connor ran into the kitchen. “Da-ad! I’ve been waiting forever.” He turned. “Sunshine! You’re back.” He rushed to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “We’re playing outside. Come with us.”

“Connor, we’ve talked about this. It’s Sunshine’s day off. We need to leave her alone.”

Connor pushed up his glasses and nodded slowly as he stepped back. “Sorry, Sunshine.”

She knew the importance of keeping to a regular schedule, but it was tough when Connor had such a firm grip on her heartstrings.

She touched his cheek. “I have a couple of things I have to do, but what if I join you for dinner?” She glanced at Declan. “If that’s all right with you.”

Connor jumped up and down. “Yes! Yes! Dad’s barbecuing burgers, and say yes, Dad!”

Declan’s expression turned rueful. “It appears I’m no longer the favorite.”

“I’m new,” Sunshine told him. “And shiny. I’ll tarnish in time.”

“I’m not holding my breath.” He wrapped his arms around Connor. “Come on, you. We’re going back outside. Sunshine, you are welcome to join us for dinner.”

“Thanks. I will.”

She retreated to her room and stared at the massive textbook on her desk. Just carrying it was going to be a workout. But instead of sitting down and trying to make sense of the first chapter, she walked to the window where she could watch Declan and Connor. They sat on the grass, drinking the water she’d left out for them.

It was obvious how much they cared about each other. They were a family—still healing from an incredible loss, but connected all the same. She wanted that. Love and belonging, something real. Something more than being the flavor of the month. She was willing to change, to be different and try new things to make that happen. What she didn’t know was whether or not she could escape who she was and the Baxter women’s four generations of disasters in the love life department.

After brunch with her sister, Margot drove home and finished packing for her stay with Bianca. The job was for about two months, but Margot only packed enough for a couple of weeks. She could easily go back to her place whenever she needed to. Her condo was a fifteen-minute drive from the monastery.

She still couldn’t believe she was going to live there. Everything about the glorious old structure appealed to her. She was going to check with her host and get permission to do some exploring. And the garden! The little she’d seen of it was magical.

After cleaning out the refrigerator and double-checking that all the faucets were turned off, Margot loaded her car with two suitcases, a briefcase and a couple of boxes. She was bringing her printer, along with a box of books that might be useful. She made sure the front door was locked, then drove toward the old section of Pasadena, heading north into the foothills.

Once again she pulled into the driveway and stopped in front of the impressive gates that kept out the world. She smiled as she pressed the button on the panel, thinking there should be a secret password.

“It’s Margot Baxter,” she said.

“Right on time,” an unfamiliar woman said. “Come on in and we’ll get you settled.”

Margot waited for the gates to swing open before driving to one of the parking spaces. Before she’d had a chance to get out of her car, the front door opened and a middle-aged woman walked toward her, pulling a utility cart behind her.

“You must be Margot,” the woman said, holding out her hand. “I’m Edna Stojicic, Alec’s housekeeper. He told me why you were here. I think we’re all in for an interesting time.”

Edna wore a simple short-sleeved green blouse over black pants. Her dark hair was short, her eyes brown. She looked sensible and competent, with a friendly smile that made Margot feel welcome.

Edna motioned to the cart. “To help with the unloading process.”

Together they emptied the trunk and backseat. Margot wheeled one of her suitcases toward the house while Edna pushed the loaded cart. When they reached the front door, Edna pointed to the keypad by the handle.

“This is how you’ll come and go from the house. Your six-digit code is in your bedroom. I’ve also left you a clicker for the front gate. There’s a security system, but it’s more about monitoring than alarms. There’s no setting it or turning it off.” She chuckled. “It’s always watching, so no dancing naked in the halls.”

“Not really my thing,” Margot murmured, then wondered if that was a problem with Bianca. Oh well, she’d known the job would be challenging when she took it.

Once they were inside, they left everything by the front door while Edna took her on a tour of the house. To the right of the foyer was the huge kitchen. Margot saw every appliance known to man and some she didn’t recognize.

“My staff and I clean on a schedule,” Edna told her. “Alec prefers to know where we’re going to be on any given day. You’ll find that information up in your bedroom, as well. Scholars come and go, studying the old documents Alec collects. They keep to themselves and won’t bother you. Let’s see. What else? Ah, meals. A chef is here by six every morning. There’s a hot breakfast put out in the dining room at six-thirty. We take it away at eight. You can eat there, or take your meals to your room.”

“I’ll be taking them to my room.”

“I’ll let everyone know so there’s a tray left out for you.” She pointed to the refrigerator. “Help yourself to anything in there. There’s a big freezer in the pantry, along with plenty of other supplies. Again, take what you’d like. If you use the last of something, there’s a grocery list on the counter in the pantry.”

Edna led the way to the formal living room with twenty-foot ceilings. The woodwork was incredible, as were the statues along the east wall. Margot would guess they were original, left behind when the monastery was decommissioned or whatever it was called when a church was no longer sacred.

She saw the staircase leading to the second floor and beyond that a media room with a huge sectional sofa and massive TV mounted on the wall.

“You’re welcome to use this anytime,” Edna told her. “The remotes are in the coffee table drawers, as are instructions on how to make it all work.”

She pointed to a set of double doors just beyond the media room. “That’s Alec’s private suite. Best not be going in there.”

“Of course not.”

They walked back the way they’d come. There was a second staircase, far less grand, going into the basement.

“There’s an old root cellar and some musty rooms down there,” Edna told her. “A portion of it has been converted into a wine cellar.”

They stepped outside to the covered walkway that ran the length of the house. The cloisters, Margot thought. Was that the right term? She would have to look it up.

They passed Alec’s office and then went back inside. Edna showed her two archive rooms and a file room where hundreds of ancient documents were stored. At the far end of the hall was a small chapel.

There were beautiful stained glass windows lining two walls, along with wooden pews.

“It’s all original,” Edna said proudly. “Alec’s great-uncle bought the place in the 1930s and started converting it to a private residence. When Alec inherited the property, he updated much of it but they both wanted to leave the chapel in place.”

They walked back to the pile of luggage at the front door and carried the first load to the second floor. The landing at the top of the stairs opened up to a large lounge area. It was furnished with a couple of sofas, a big desk against the far wall, a TV, a small refrigerator and a microwave.

“Much more my speed,” Margot joked as she glanced around.

“The guest lounge. You’re welcome to use this, as well.” Edna winked. “I agree. It’s nice up here and a lot less complicated than anything in the media room.”

Margot followed her to a pleasant guest room with an attached bath. The walls were a pale gray and the queen-size bed looked comfortable.

“This is perfect. Thank you. I’ll set up my computer and training materials in the lounge.”

“Bianca’s room is at the end of the hall. It’s the bigger guest room.” Edna’s tone was apologetic.

“Not to worry. I have everything I need.”

They carried up the rest of her luggage.

“Is there anything else before I leave you to get settled?” Edna asked.

Margot had seen the Wi-Fi password next to her door entry code and the clicker for the gate, so she had that. Honestly, this was the most organized household she’d ever been a part of. She was impressed.

“I’d love to explore,” she said. “What are the ground rules?”

“Stay out of Alec’s study and bedroom and don’t disrupt his routine. Otherwise, go where you’d like. Oh, don’t touch any of the old papers. Most of them are kept safely away, but if it’s paper and it looks ancient, don’t touch it. Alec does love his musty old scraps.”

Edna thought for a second. “The cleaners will be taking care of your room on the days listed, so don’t worry about changing your sheets or washing towels. You can do your personal laundry in the utility room in the basement. You’ll see Borys around. He maintains the place, especially the wood. He has a few people who help him with big projects but he does all the woodwork himself.”

“I would imagine it takes a village to keep a place like this running. But what an amazing house. I’m looking forward to admiring it all.”

“Good. Make yourself at home.” Edna pointed to the papers on the dresser. “My cell number is there, if you need to reach me.”

“Thank you.”

Margot quickly unpacked her clothes. The closet was large and well organized and she had more space than she needed.

She set up her laptop and printer in the lounge, along with the books she’d brought. She’d already put together a preliminary workbook for Bianca, which may or may not be something her client was interested in. Still, she would give it a shot. Everyone was different and Margot did her best to accommodate individual learning styles.

She’d also downloaded a fair amount of research on Cardigania. She’d learned the basic history of the country, the size of the population and which industries provided the most revenue. She knew that Cardiganian wool was famous for being both soft and durable and that their chocolate rivaled the best from Switzerland—but there was more to glean from the country’s rich history.

Margot had also done a little more study on Bianca’s past. Once she’d accepted the job, she’d requested a detailed background check on her new client. Not that she was expecting to find a couple of felonies or anything earth-shattering, but it was always good to have more information, rather than less.

By four-thirty, she was settled and ready to begin her job in the morning, which meant it was definitely time to start exploring.


Chapter Four

Alec Mcnicol did not like having people stay in his house. When visiting scholars came to study any of the ancient texts, they worked in one of the archive rooms during the day, then retreated to a hotel at night. The same with the household staff. Edna Stojicic, his very sensible housekeeper, brought a team of cleaners to tend to the large building and worked her magic in the kitchen before disappearing long before 5:00 p.m. There were weeks he never saw her at all. The gardeners rarely needed to speak to him and he communicated with Borys, the full-time woodworker/handyman the old Spanish building required, via text.

On a good day, Alec saw no one, spoke to no one, and that was how he preferred things. He loved his life just as it was. His routine was predictable and that made him happy. Only now he was not dealing only with his mother—there was a stranger to contend with.

At least Margot appeared to be a restful sort of person. She wasn’t loud or garish, nor did she seem the type to always want his attention. Even now, as she moved her things into one of the guest rooms upstairs, he couldn’t hear her at all. Of course, given the solid construction of the monastery, she could be rehearsing with a rock band and if the door was closed, he wouldn’t hear her. The thought made him smile. The smile retreated when someone knocked on his half-closed door.

“Yes?” he called, hoping against hope it wasn’t Bianca come to discuss how he should create a turtle refuge in his backyard, or help her with an application to join SETI. With his mother, one never really knew what to expect.

He was relieved to find Margot in the cloisters hallway, only this was a different Margot than the businesswoman he’d met the previous week. Gone were the sensible glasses, the gray suit, the plain black pumps. Instead she wore dark jeans and a deep purple twinset. As before, her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but unlike last time, her face didn’t have on a lick of makeup.

He could see freckles on her nose and a soft, natural color staining her cheeks. She looked young and impossibly beautiful. With breasts.

He drew in a breath. What in God’s name was wrong with him? He never noticed breasts or any other part of a woman. He wasn’t visual and he certainly didn’t think about size or shape or nipples. Yet thoughts of all three were firmly stuck in his brain. His mother’s trainer, or whatever it was he was supposed to call Margot, had breasts and he had acknowledged them. Only to himself, but still. It was a calamity.

“Hi,” Margot said with a smile. “I just wanted to take a second and tell you I’ve moved in. Edna showed me around. You have a spectacular home. The remodeling job makes the space comfortable while retaining the essence of it being in a monastery. The windows, the carvings around the door. Your home is a wonder.”

Her words calmed him. He managed to nod and motioned for her to enter his office. Keeping his gaze anywhere but her chest, he led her to his desk, where they both took a seat.

“Yes, the work was carefully planned and executed. I, too, am pleased with the outcome.”

“I wanted to confirm the ground rules,” she said. “Edna explained about the door lock code and I’ve seen both floors.” Her mouth curved up at the corners. “Not the basement yet, but I’m so going to explore that. Edna said I was free to go anywhere in the house with the exception of your office and bedroom, of course.”

She put her hands on her lap, resting them calmly. Margot didn’t fidget. He liked that.

“The guest lounge upstairs is comfortable and certainly has everything I need,” she continued. “I’ll use the desk for my work and I’m thinking it would be easier if Bianca and I conducted most of our classes outside.”

He nodded, not sure what any of this had to do with him.

“I prefer to take my meals in my room.” Margot’s tone was firm. “I’m not a member of the family and there’s no need to act like I am. I’ve found it’s much easier on everyone if we all remember that. There’s no awkward conversation and if I have a bad day with your mother, the last thing she would want would be to have dinner with me.”

“Bianca is gone most evenings,” he said. “She often goes to see Wesley or to spend time with her friends.” In fact, now that he thought about it, he hadn’t had dinner with his mother since she moved in nearly two weeks ago. Which was odd considering how it seemed she was always everywhere.

“No matter. I’ll collect my meals from the kitchen and take them upstairs if it’s all the same to you.”

“Excellent. Anything else?”

“Your mother and I begin in the morning. As my contract is with her, I won’t be providing you with updates.”

“I believe I will be the first to notice if you make any progress.”

She studied him. “You still don’t think I can help.”

“I’m not sure anyone can help. My mother answers to no one. She is like a leaf on the wind—she goes where she likes.”

“I thought leaves went where the wind said.”

“You are correct. A poor analogy.” He tried to think of another, but the only thing that came to mind was how much he wanted to look at Margot’s breasts and that certainly wasn’t anything he could mention.

“Tell me a story from when you were little,” she said with a smile. “About your mother.”

The request surprised him. “What kind of story? A good story or a bad one? Are you trying to learn something specific?”

“Not really. I’m just curious and I’d like to get a feel for her. Can you give me one of each?”

He nodded. “When I turned seven, she rented out an ice-cream parlor and treated my entire class to an afternoon there. We played games and ate as much ice cream as we wanted.”

“That is a good story.”

“Yes, until all the children started throwing up because they’d had too much.”

“Oh. I suppose I can see how that would happen. And the other story?”

“When I was seventeen, she slept with my best friend.”

Alec immediately wanted to call back the words, but it was too late. They hung out there in the late afternoon, echoing in his large office. Margot’s eyes widened.

“I was away at a Swiss boarding school,” he added, realizing he had to explain. “She came to visit and took the two of us to Paris for a long weekend. I went for a walk one afternoon and when I came back, I saw him stepping out of her room.”

He remembered the sense of betrayal—that his mother would come between him and a friend. She’d always known he didn’t make friends easily and to get in the middle of that, to change it into something uncomfortable, had made him furious. And sad.

“I’m not gay,” he said. “It wasn’t that I was in love with him, but it wasn’t something she should have done.”

“No,” Margot murmured. “We’ll leave the fact that she slept with a minor for another time.” Her mouth twisted. “I’m sorry. You must have felt betrayed by both of them.”

“I did. He and I never spoke of it.” Not a word, he thought. But everything had changed. The next year Alec had gone off to University of Oxford and he and his friend had lost touch.

Until then he’d known his mother was impulsive, but he hadn’t realized how the flaw affected other people. He’d always kept fairly tight control on his emotions, but that incident had solidified his determination to let his mind dictate his actions. There would be no hasty decisions, no wild flights of fancy. It was a rule he lived by, regardless of circumstances.

Margot worried her lower lip, drawing his attention to the shape of her mouth.

“My mother abandoned my sister and me when we were little,” she said quietly. “Her mother had abandoned her the same way. The Baxter women are not known for their good choices in the men they fall for or how they raise their children.”

He appreciated her attempt to level the emotional playing field. It was a nice gesture and spoke well of her character.

“You haven’t abandoned any children.” His tone was firm.

“No, but I’ve been unwise about men.” She wrinkled her nose. “Or rather, one man.” She drew in a breath and met his gaze. “But that’s behind me now.” Her mouth turned up in an impish smile. “Because unlike you, I believe people can change.”

“It’s not people so much as my mother. Still, she wants this. She does love Wesley.”

“You sound surprised.”

“She’s never been so devoted to someone. He’s not her usual type, so perhaps that’s the reason.”

“Or he’s the one she’s been looking for all along.”

He raised his eyebrows. “A romantic, Margot? I would not have expected that.”

“Not a romantic, but I remain hopeful.”

He wondered about the man she’d been foolish with. What did that mean? Alec made it a point to never get involved with a woman. Not seriously. If he let down his barriers, if he gave his heart, well, he didn’t know what would happen, but the worry that he could turn into his mother was enough to keep him comfortably solitary. He didn’t like a lot of drama and emotion in his world. He’d created the life he wanted and he was content. There were no highs, but also no worries that he would become unhinged.

She rose. “I won’t keep you any longer,” she said. “I just wanted to say hello and make sure we were both clear with the ground rules.”

“Of course.” He stood. “Have you discussed them with my mother?”

“I will and I’m confident she’ll be in favor of them.”

He allowed himself a slight smile. “We’ll see.”

“I can be stubborn and disciplined.”

“I’m sure that’s true, but Bianca has a way of making things happen that are more to her liking. She swoops in and rearranges until you’re left wondering how exactly things got that way. It’s a gift.”

She laughed. “You mean it’s a curse.”

“Not for her. Just us lesser mortals.”

“I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to proving you wrong.”

“I am rarely wrong, Margot.”

“Neither am I.”

By nine-thirty that night, Margot was nearly giddy from her excitement about the house. She’d spent an hour in the small chapel, only leaving when it got dark. She’d checked out the empty guest room, the guest lounge and most of the kitchen. She’d made herself a sandwich for dinner and had discovered that the cookie jar was full of cookies. Homemade cookies with frosting or chocolate chips, all soft and gooey and if this kept up she was going to have to up her exercise routine. Or buy bigger pants.

Later in the week, when she had some free time, she was going to explore the gardens. The grounds were extensive—at least three acres—and she wanted to discover every inch.

It was late enough that she knew she should head to her room, but she just wasn’t ready. Bianca had gone out and Alec was somewhere—possibly his office or the media room and she planned to avoid both—so it was as if she had the entire house to herself.

She thought briefly about heading into the basement, but decided that might be too much for her first night. At some point she really did have to get some sleep. Just not quite yet.

She walked to the stairs leading to the second floor and told herself to be a responsible adult and just go to her room, only to hear someone coming up behind her. She turned and saw Alec leaving the kitchen. His gaze met hers and they both froze.

She recovered first and smiled. “It’s just me. I’ve been exploring.”

“Did you find anything unusual?”

“Not yet. What would count as unusual?”

“Old documents would be excellent. Artifacts, that sort of thing.”

“I doubt there are many hiding spaces left. The guys doing the remodel would have found them all.” She laughed. “What about a skeleton?”

“No, thank you.”

“Because it would creep you out?”

“Because it would bring too many people here.”

“Of course. The police, the coroner, reporters. You want something intriguing that won’t set off an invasion. I’ll do my best to make that happen.”

“Thank you.”

She expected him to excuse himself but instead he gestured toward the living room. “Would you care to join me for a cognac?”

She wasn’t sure a man had ever invited her “for a cognac” before. “Thank you,” she said, and followed him into the living room.

While Alec walked over to the wet bar against the far wall, Margot took in the high ceiling and clerestory windows across the entire east side. She would guess they had once been stained glass, no doubt removed when the property had been sold. Converting the monastery into a home must have been quite the job.

She took a seat in one of the wingback chairs by the sofa. Alec handed her a glass, then took a seat opposite her.

“Any ghost sightings?” he asked.

“I’m not sure I believe in ghosts. Do you?”

“I have yet to see one.”

“And seeing is believing?”

“When it comes to ghosts, yes.”

She took a sip of her drink. The cognac was rich and smooth.

“Edna mentioned something about ancient texts,” she said. “That if I saw anything that looked like old paper to not touch it.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “I assure you, you will not find ancient texts lying around. They are all cataloged and protected.”

“Whew. Because I was really worried. I wouldn’t want to get a sweaty glass ring on the one document that could further our understanding of a language.”

“That would be a tragedy. Now you can rest easy.”

“So is that what you do? Study languages?”

“I’m more interested in what the texts say than the language itself. What was considered so important that it had to be captured in the written word. Five thousand years ago, there weren’t any sticky notes. Back then a written message was deliberate. Paper had to be made by hand and it was a laborious process. Ink had to be created and then you had to find someone who knew how to read and write.”

“I never thought of it that way, but of course you’re right. Today language is careless. We think nothing of writing something down.”

“Exactly. There are still languages that we can’t decipher. One of my hobbies is trying to translate Indus script. The civilization existed from about 2600 BC to 1900 BC in the area of what we know as Pakistan and northwestern India. They were a thriving people with an export trade and several large towns, and then they were gone, leaving behind a written language we have yet to understand.”

“I didn’t know there were any written languages that hadn’t been translated.”

“There are several. Every year or so I take a few weeks to see if I can make any progress on Indus script.”

Okay, that was impressive. Her goal on the hobby front was to learn how to knit.

“Tell me how you do your work.”

She smiled. “That’s a very generalized question. Every client is different and I do my best to customize my approach for the situation. A businessperson wanting to learn cultural norms for a business trip to China is a very different proposition than someone who might be moving to Argentina for a promotion.”

“Do you know much about living in Argentina?”

“No.” She laughed. “That was an example. I could teach a basic course on business practices in Argentina, but I don’t know the nuances necessary for someone moving there. We have experts.”

“On Argentina?”

“On nearly every country. I’m more of a generalist.”

“Ah. You get the unusual requests.”

“When I’m lucky.”

He smiled at her. He had a nice smile and she liked his dark eyes. There was something very pleasant about Alec. He was a deliberate sort of person and she could appreciate that.

“Did my mother tell you she’s not one for technology? If you’re hoping she’ll do work online, you’re going to be disappointed.”

“I had a couple of workbooks printed and bound. We’ll see how those are received. In her case, I assumed we’d do a lot of talking and some role playing. I’m not sure where we’re starting, so until I know that, I can’t formulate a complete plan.”

“I’m imagining formal place settings at the dining room table.”

Margot laughed. “That will happen for sure. You can play along if you’d like. Many a client has been overwhelmed by the fish fork.”

“Not the dessert spoon?”

“You know about the dessert spoon?”

“Yes. It’s up by the dessert fork. You forget—I went to boarding school in Switzerland. I can handle a fish fork with the best of them.”

“Training every young man needs.”

He smiled. “I wouldn’t go that far but those lessons are ingrained.”

“Your father was Swiss?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“He was. A rich banker who met my mother at a party in London. Theirs was a brief but torrid affair with the unexpected result of her getting pregnant. She was twenty-four at the time and my father was in his early forties.”

“That is an age difference.”

“Yes, and neither of them wanted to get married. I’m not sure my father was all that interested in having children, although his parents were thrilled. My mother returned to LA to prepare for my birth.” He smiled. “I will admit that when I was little, she seemed almost magical. We were a team. She took me everywhere. There were no bedtimes, no rules. When I was four, she hired a tutor who traveled with us.”

“While no rules sounds nice, it’s not always comfortable.”

“I agree.”

She sipped her cognac. “So you made your own rules.”

He nodded.

“What about your father?”

“He never had any other children so I was his only heir. I saw him from time to time, but we weren’t all that close. I adored my paternal grandparents. I spent a few weeks with them every summer. By the time I was thirteen, I was ready to go to boarding school. My father told Bianca and that was that.”

She was sure Alec had been happy to leave his nomadic life for something more structured, but she couldn’t help wondering how Bianca had reacted to her only child living halfway around the world.

“Was that the last time you lived with her?” she asked.

“I would spend time with her on breaks.”

Like the trip to Paris where Bianca slept with his best friend.

“Your mother is a complex woman,” she said.

“She is. You have your work cut out for you.”

She glanced at her watch and was shocked to see it was nearly eleven. She rose.

“It’s late. Thank you for the cognac and the conversation.”

Alec stood. “You’re welcome. Good luck with everything. I’m around if you have any questions.”

She nodded. “Good night.”

She carried her glass into the kitchen, washed it, then made her way upstairs. When she reached her room, she thought about all she’d learned about Alec and Bianca and knew there was so much more to discover.


Chapter Five

Telling herself that everyone was scared on the first day of class wasn’t really helping. Sunshine alternated between wanting to throw up and simply turning her car around and heading back to Declan’s house. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t college material. No one had expectations that she was going to make anything of her life and no one would be surprised if she chickened out now.

All incredibly depressing thoughts that did nothing for her self-confidence, but certainly put her current circumstances in perspective. Was she really going to give up before she’d even started? Was she so pathetic she couldn’t face a beginner math class?

“I’m doing this,” she muttered to herself as she pulled into the sprawling parking lot at Pasadena City College. “I’m going to be just fine.”

That decided, Sunshine grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder, then locked her car and started purposefully for her class.

She’d looked at a map online and had a basic idea of where to go. She joined throngs of other students making their way toward the various buildings. Some were by themselves, but several traveled in groups. She eyed the other women, checking out what they’d decided to wear on the cool, gloomy morning.

She was relieved to see her jeans, sweater and boots fit in just fine. At thirty-one she was older than nearly everyone she saw but at least she wasn’t wearing something inappropriate.

She found her building, then made her way to the classroom. She braced herself for she wasn’t sure what, then went inside.

There were a lot of desks in rows and nearly half of the desks were occupied. She picked one in the second to the back row and slid into the seat. After pulling out a notebook and a pen, she wasn’t sure what to do. Everyone around her was either talking to their neighbor or on their phones. She got out hers and pretended to read an email, all the while fighting nerves.

At exactly nine-thirty, a petite, gray-haired woman walked into the classroom. She wore black pants and a flowy blouse that she’d tucked in. She set her briefcase on the teacher’s desk, then looked at the class.

“Settle down. I’m Professor Rejefski,” she said, her voice clear and strong. “This is Math 131. You’re in this class because you completed the prerequisite or you tested into the class.”

Sunshine had no idea if she was supposed to be writing any of this down. She glanced around and saw most of the students were still on their phones, which seemed really rude.

The professor waited a couple of seconds before saying, “If you need to use your cell phone during class, you will step outside. If I catch you using your cell phone during class, you will be required to leave for the rest of the session. If that happens more than twice in the semester, you will be dropped from my class. I honestly don’t care how close we are to the end of the semester or what your grade is or how much you need to pass this class. Do I make myself clear?”

Nearly all the students immediately slid their phones into their backpacks or pockets. One girl kept on texting. The professor moved in front of her and waited until the student looked up.

“Enough is enough. We’re not going to get along,” she said, her voice pleasant. “You should take someone else’s class.”

The girl’s eyes widened. She looked maybe eighteen, although Sunshine would have guessed younger. “But I need this class at this time.”

“If I see your cell phone again, you’re out. Am I clear?”

The girl nodded and put her phone into her handbag.

Professor Rejefski returned to the front of the classroom. “We have a lot of material to cover. If you want to pass this course, you’ll need to keep up. Do your homework and come to class prepared. I have no problem answering questions but if you aren’t getting the material, either use the math lab or attend the TA sessions. The times and locations are posted online. This is not high school, people. This is college. You are adults and I will treat you like adults. I don’t want to hear about your personal problems, I don’t want excuses and if you’re just here because your parents are making you, then I suggest you take this class with someone else.”

“What a bitch.”

The low voice came from somewhere to Sunshine’s left. She didn’t dare look and see who had spoken—she was too busy fighting nausea. She hadn’t expected to be coddled, but this class was sounding more like boot camp than higher education.

“The college has a strict policy on plagiarism and cheating. I’m sure this won’t be a surprise, but if you are caught cheating you will be expelled. There are no exceptions. On the day of our tests, you will each bring a blank blue book to class. I will take them from you in exchange for one that I have brought.” She smiled. “You will be expected to show your work on every problem. There will be pop quizzes. Please make sure you have blank Scantrons, Form 100, with you at all times.”

She paced back and forth in front of the class. “What else? I will randomly collect the homework. If you have completed the homework, you will receive bonus points. At the end of the semester, if you are within ten points of a higher grade, bonus points will be added to your total points and could push you up to the higher grade. Any questions?”

No one raised a hand.

“Excellent,” Professor Rejefski said. “Then let’s get started.”

Two and a half hours later, when the class finally ended, Sunshine felt as if she’d run a mental marathon. She was exhausted and her head was spinning. They’d covered most of the first chapter. While she understood factors and the order of operations, she was a little shaky on word problems. She’d made a note to find out when the TA sessions were, whatever those were. She was going to have to go to all of those. And maybe the math lab. Hiring a tutor wasn’t out of the question.

She glanced at the test schedule the professor had handed out and then slipped it into her backpack along with her notes. She told herself that all she had to do was get to her car and drive home. She could be overwhelmed there. In private. Having a breakdown in the classroom was not a good idea.

She settled her backpack over her shoulder and walked to the classroom door. A tall, lanky guy moved next to her.

“Hey,” he said with a nod. “I’m Justin.”

“Sunshine.”

“Hey.”

She offered him a tight smile as they walked outside.

“So I haven’t seen you around here.” He half moved in front of her. “Are you new?”

While she heard the words, it took her a second for them to actually sink in. Someone was talking to her. She needed to respond. Her freak-out about the class wasn’t exactly visible to anyone but her.

“Hi. Yes. Today’s my first day on campus.”

“I thought so. I would have noticed you before. You’re hot.”

What? “Okay. Thanks.” She went to step past him. Justin blocked her effort.

“I’m having a pool party at my house this afternoon. Just friends and beer. We’ll barbecue burgers and stuff. You should definitely be there.”

The statement was so at odds with her sense of being completely out of her element that she could only stare at him.

“Excuse me?”

He flashed her a smile. “You’ll have fun. I promise.”

She shifted her backpack to her other shoulder, then actually turned her attention on Justin. He was good-looking, in a very young, teenage kind of way. He’d yet to fill out and he had the eager air of a happy puppy.

“How old are you?” she asked bluntly.

He grinned. “Old enough.”

She waited.

His grin faded. “Twenty-three.”

She waited some more.

“Eighteen.”

“That’s what I thought. Thanks, Justin, but no.”

She moved around him and headed for her car. Puppy Justin chose not to follow, which was heartening. Now if only she could get rid of her sense of impending doom. Telling herself she could do it, she could figure out college, wasn’t working any kind of magic. She was scared and apprehensive and not the least bit confident about her abilities.

“Change is always hard,” she murmured to herself as she drove out of the parking lot. “I have to do this. I have to.”

It was the only way for her to be more. If she didn’t want to believe herself, she had Justin as an illustration. She wanted to be more than the girl with boobs and an ass. She wanted to be proud of herself. It all started with this math class and by God, she was going to get through it.

Or so she hoped.

Bianca had left a note on Margot’s door requesting they start at ten in the morning. Despite her late night, Margot was up at six, and showered and dressed by six-thirty. She waited until seven to go down to breakfast where, as promised, a small buffet had been set up in the dining room.

Alec was already there, eating his breakfast and reading the paper. An actual paper—not a digital version—which made sense, given what he did for a living. He looked up when she entered.

“Good morning.”

She nodded. “Morning.”

And that was it. He returned his attention to his paper, she collected her breakfast and took it upstairs. When she finished, she returned her dishes to the kitchen before going over her lesson plan for the first few days. Mostly she and Bianca would get to know each other. It was very likely that she would have to modify her lesson plans as she figured out how Bianca liked to learn and what she most liked to do.

Promptly at ten, Bianca appeared in the lounge. She wore yoga pants and a sweatshirt. Her dark blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wasn’t wearing any makeup, yet she still looked so beautiful as to be otherworldly.

“Good morning,” Margot said, standing. “I’m excited to get started. How are you feeling?”

“Nervous mostly. I’m not sure why I’m doing this. It’s really a ridiculous thing, when you think about it. How can you possibly help me?”

First-day jitters weren’t uncommon. Margot smiled reassuringly. “Of course you can always change your mind. Let’s try this for a few days and see how it goes. If it’s not working, then I’ll completely understand.”

Bianca tilted her head. “You’re not going to try to talk me into staying the course?”

“Not my style.”

She relaxed visibly. “Good.” She pointed to the window. “It’s foggy out. Let’s go walk in the garden. We can pretend we’re in London and we’re spies on a mission for Winston Churchill.”

Margot’s first thought was that if they were spying for Churchill, they wouldn’t be in London. They’d be behind enemy lines somewhere in France or Germany, but she sensed saying that would spoil the moment.

“Let me grab a jacket and we’ll head out.”

The fog was thick and damp and they could only see a few feet in front of them. Margot knew that on her own she would get lost in a matter of seconds, which might be what Bianca intended. But rather than try to remember which way they’d come, Margot told herself to relax and enjoy the experience. Even if she did get lost, eventually the fog would lift and she would find her way back to the house.

Bianca linked arms with her. “The fog always makes me think of Rod,” she said with a laugh. “He never liked it. Said it made him sad, which was always funny to me. The man is from Scotland.”

“Rod?”

“Rod Stewart. I met him when I was very young.” She thought for a second. “Maybe nineteen or twenty. I was in Saint-Tropez and there was a party. Back then there was always a party. We had a wild week together. He was just so charming.”

Margot wasn’t sure if the story was informational or meant to impress. They were walking along a stone path lined with plants, bushes and trees. The fog seemed thicker and the dampness seeped into her jeans and through her jacket.

“Let’s talk about what we’re going to do together,” she said.

Bianca immediately stiffened and pulled away. “If we must.”

Margot stopped and looked at her. “I’m not here to make you uncomfortable or put you in a situation where you feel foolish. My job is to help you in any way I can. I want this to be enjoyable and informative. Would it help if I told you how I work?”

Bianca’s gaze was wary at best. Margot half expected her to bolt.

“It might,” Bianca said. “Tell me.”

“Maybe we should go inside where it’s not so cold.”

Bianca surprised her by linking arms again. “I know somewhere better.”

They continued walking, then turned onto another path. Up ahead Margot saw a structure. As they got closer, she realized it was a greenhouse filled with exotic flowers. They went in through a glass door.

The first thing she noticed was the fragrance. It was powerful but not overwhelming, as if the scents from the thousands of flowers somehow blended into a beautiful singular perfume. The temperature was comfortable, maybe seventy or seventy-five degrees.

“Over here,” Bianca said, leading the way to a seating area in the middle of the greenhouse. Wicker furniture formed a circle. Overstuffed cushions offered comfortable surfaces. There was a low coffee table and a bistro table and chairs.

“What is this place?” she asked. “It’s wonderful.”

“Isn’t it? Alec hired the most amazing landscape architect a few years back. The greenhouse had always been here, but it wasn’t used for anything. Now there are all these flowers. I love to come here to read or think. Especially when it’s foggy. It’s like we have our own special place, away from the rest of the world.”

Margot had to agree. She had the thought that she would love to bring a sleeping bag and spend the night in the greenhouse. With the flowers and the night sky, it would be quite the experience.

She returned her attention to the job at hand. Once she and Bianca were seated, she leaned forward, deliberately relaxing her body language.

“I thought we’d begin by talking about Cardigania. The history of its customs as well as what the culture is like today. Their basic industries, areas of growth, demographics. That sort of thing. I’d like for us to brainstorm different events you think you’ll be attending with Wesley. We can talk about what you might wear and who you’d meet. During those sessions we’ll come up with things for you to talk about and I’ll help you become familiar with phrases and strategize ways to incorporate their various customs. None of this is formal. We can switch from topic to topic organically. I do have a workbook I’d like you to consider using. It’s more structured and we can go through it together.”

Bianca wrinkled her nose. “I hate being flawed. Real life is messy. I prefer pictures where everything can be airbrushed.”

“You hardly need airbrushing. You’re luminous in person. I’m not sure a photograph can capture that.”

Bianca’s eyes filled with tears. “What a lovely thing to say.” She blinked. “Still, there are flaws. I have to do this for Wesley. The Cardiganian ambassador to China was recalled for having an affair. That’s so ordinary a thing to do. I’m not sure I could ever be that ordinary. Wesley says I’ll be fine, but what if I’m not? I don’t want to cost him his career.”

Margot had learned that nearly everyone was apprehensive when she started working with them. “Would you be comfortable taking out my appendix?”

“What? You can’t ask me that! It’s a ridiculous question.”

“Why?”

“I’m not a doctor.”

“You’re right. Knowing how to perform surgery is something a person has to learn. It’s a skill—not intuitive. No one is born knowing how to do something like that.” She smiled. “That’s all this is. Learning a new skill. I wouldn’t know the first thing about acting, but for you, it’s easy. You wouldn’t have to wonder if you could do it, you’d jump right into the role. You have your process and you’re confident in your abilities. My job is to make you confident when it comes to dealing with Wesley’s lifestyle. Whether you’re meeting a factory worker or a prime minister, there are ways to be appropriate and genuine while still being yourself.”

Margot shrugged. “A lot of it is just plain silly. Like the way to set a table for a formal dinner. There are rules that sometimes make no sense. We’ll study them so you’ll know how to navigate state dinners. None of this is hard. It’s time consuming and requires some learning, but only because you haven’t had the experiences before.”

Bianca relaxed. “Like taking out an appendix.”

“Exactly. Now how did you meet Wesley?”

Bianca leaned back in her chair and sighed. “It was just one of those things. I had a meeting downtown. I never go there, but that day I had to. When I was finished, I walked back to the parking garage and on the way, I passed a dog park.” Her smile turned impish. “I do love dogs so I went in to pet a few. This cute Boston terrier came running up to me. He was so friendly and handsome.”

“You don’t have a dog of your own?”

“Oh, I’ve never had a pet. I wouldn’t be a good pet parent. I did all right with Alec, but only until he was a teenager. Then he went to live with his grandparents. It was the best thing for him.” Her tone turned wistful.

Margot wondered if Bianca had wanted her son to go, or if she’d been given a choice.

“Was the handsome dog Wesley’s?” she asked.

“It was. His name is Bruno and while I was loving on him, Wesley came over and introduced himself to me. We took one look at each other and just knew.”

“Love at first sight.”

“It was. For both of us.”

“Do you experience that a lot?”

“Sometimes.” Her smile returned. “The best loves are the ones where you know right away, don’t you think? But it’s never been like this before. Never so powerful or strong.” She laughed. “I haven’t tried to change myself for anyone else.” Her laughter faded. “Alec always wanted me to be different. He never said anything, but I could tell. Especially as he got older. I disappointed him.”

Margot thought about Bianca sleeping with Alec’s best friend when they were both still at boarding school. Not exactly a topic she was going to bring up.

“Why do you think you disappoint him?” she asked instead.

“It’s just who I am.” Bianca sprang to her feet and spun in a circle. “I didn’t eat breakfast and I’m starving. Let’s go raid the kitchen. Then you can tell me all about the special Cardiganian sheep.”

Before Margot could respond, Bianca was gone, running out the door and into the garden. The fog had mostly lifted by now so she could see her until Bianca turned the corner and was lost from view.


Chapter Six

Declan expected clients to be difficult. But his current clients were doing their best to give him a heart attack. Even if that wasn’t their stated goal, they were doing a great job of pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

He left his office early and drove home, arriving a little before four. When he opened the door leading from the garage to the house, he was hit by a blast of music and the smell of chocolate and berries and all things delicious.

He walked into the kitchen only to come to a complete stop as he took in the view. Two pies sat on cooling racks. A tray of brownies was on the kitchen table and frosting dripped off obviously still-warm cinnamon rolls. But what really caught his attention was Sunshine.

Connor’s nanny had pinned up her hair, leaving her neck bare. The sweet curve led to nearly bare shoulders. She had on some kind of tank dress that came to her knees. It was shapeless, but she was not, especially not when she was dancing and singing along to “Fixer Upper” from the Frozen soundtrack.

Her hips gyrated, her breasts moved and as shameful as it was to admit, he stood there taking it all in like a lusty sixteen-year-old. He was as hard as one, too, he thought, shifting uncomfortably, grateful his suit jacket would cover his inappropriate response to her.

It was the lack of sex thing, he told himself. He wasn’t disgusting enough to lust after the woman who took care of his son. It was women in general and his not getting laid that had him wanting to set her on the counter and—

Sunshine saw him and screamed. She pressed a flour-covered hand to her chest. “You scared me! Don’t do that.”

“Sorry.” He set down his briefcase while making sure he stayed safely behind the counter where she wouldn’t catch a glimpse of his inappropriately hard dick. “Opening a bakery?”

“What?” She dropped her arms to her side, leaving a white handprint on her dress, then reached for her phone and silenced the music. She smiled at him. “It was kind of loud, huh? Sorry. Connor’s fine with the volume as long as he gets to pick what I’m playing. He’s in his room reading.”

“I didn’t know he still liked Frozen.”

She smiled. “Everyone likes Frozen although last week it was the soundtrack from Hamilton. One of our favorites.”

She’d been working for him for less than a month and already she and Connor had favorites. That was a good sign, he thought, letting a little of the ever-present worry about his son fade. As far as he could tell, Sunshine was an excellent nanny—even if she did have surprising hobbies.

“What’s with all this?” he asked.

“Oh.” Her smile faded and her expression turned guilty. “Yes, well, I stress bake.” Her chin came up. “I stopped at the grocery store after class and I paid for the supplies myself.”

“Sunshine, I’m not worried you’re overbuying flour and baking soda. I was wondering what brought it on. And what we’re going to do with it all.”

Her smile returned. “Most of it freezes. There’s a bake sale coming up at Connor’s school so some of it can go there. Maybe you’d like to take cookies to work.”

“Mostly I’d like to quit and go live on an island.”

“Bad day?”

“The worst. Tell you what. Let me go say hi to Connor and get changed, then we’ll compare notes on our day.”

A timer dinged. Sunshine reached for hot pads.

“That’s the banana bread.”

“Of course it is. I’ll be right back.”

He grabbed his briefcase and positioned it strategically. Things had mostly calmed down but with her bending over the oven, well, he was a disgusting human being. That was for sure.

He went into his bedroom and changed into jeans and a T-shirt, all the while thinking about how many billions of people didn’t have access to safe drinking water. A few minutes later, he was back to normal, so to speak. He went in to check on Connor.

When his son saw him, Connor jumped to his feet and raced toward him. “Dad! Sunshine is baking everything. I think we should have pie for dessert. It’s mixed berry and I got to taste the filling and it’s delicious.”

“Then pie it is.”

He swept Connor up in his arms and hugged him. Thin boy arms tightened around his neck. This was right, he thought fiercely. These moments with his child. As long as Connor was happy and healthy, then the rest of it didn’t matter all that much. Work would figure itself out.

“What are you reading?” he asked as he set Connor on the floor.

“Another book on ants. It’s really good. I can’t wait for the farm to get here.”

“Me, too. I’m going to go back to the kitchen and talk to Sunshine. Want to come hang out with us?”

Connor’s gaze slid toward his book. “I’ll wait until dinner.”

Declan grinned. “No interest in talking with the old people?”

“Sunshine’s not old.”

Declan clutched his chest. “Hey, I’m not old, either.”

Connor giggled. “You’re my dad.”

As if that explained everything. Declan supposed it did.

He returned to the kitchen. Sunshine had changed the music to a classical station. She’d also cleared off a spot at the island where he could pull up a stool, and set out all the fixings for a martini.

“You read my mind,” he said. “Thanks, but I can make it.”

“I’ll do it. I need the practice.”

“Not a martini drinker?”

“I’m more of a wine with dinner girl.”

“Then feel free to pick out a bottle.”

“That bad a day?”

He reached for a cooling cookie and took a bite. “My business partner and I have a contract with a new hotel on the north end of Malibu. They’ve started construction so now we’re talking about the grounds. They’re extensive, both in the front and back, with several acres heading up into the hills.”

She measured vodka and vermouth, then added ice. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“It is. We’re going to build a walking path through the hills, which is easy enough. It’s the rest of it that’s the problem.”

Sunshine poured the drink into a martini glass, then added three olives on a plastic toothpick and handed him the drink.

He took a sip. “Perfect. Thank you.”

“Pie and martinis. I am a miracle. So what about the rest of the grounds?”

“They won’t make a decision. No, I take that back. We can’t get to the point where they have to make a decision. They want something different. Something special, but so far they hate everything we’ve suggested. I’m to the point of offering dolphins and elephants.”

“I’m not sure they’d get along although they are both intelligent species. They might figure it out.”

She poured herself a glass of ice water, then sat across from him at the island.

“They’re leaning toward breaking up the space into different gardens. They might want a maze of some kind and that’s all we’ve got. At some point they’re going to have to pick a direction or kill us. I’m used to clients needing time and hand-holding but nothing like this.”

“The Huntington gardens are all different. I wonder if that would inspire them or make it worse.”

“I don’t think I could get through a field trip,” he admitted. “Not without bloodshed.”

“Yours or theirs?”

“I have no idea.”

She laughed. “So you connect different gardens with a thing, right? The material used to construct it or the same planters or a type of plant?”

“Exactly. Feel free to suggest something. I’m running out of ideas. Last week they wanted all organic. This week they’re wondering about sand because we’re close to the beach. I could work with sand. Sand is great. Until I got an email this afternoon saying sand was too obvious.”

“Yikes. That’s not easy.”

“We’ll get there. Like I said, I’m used to hand-holding, but sometimes it’s wearing. Now tell me about your day. Why are you stress baking?”

Her shoulders slumped and she sighed heavily. “It’s dumb.”

“No, it’s not. It’s important. Talk.”

“I started my math class today.”

“And?”

“And it was awful. Professor Rejefski is seriously intimidating. The students are all younger than me and I couldn’t follow the lesson.”

“Not any of it?”

“Some. But then it got confusing. I haven’t had to study since high school. I never went to college. I signed up but then I met some guy and I took off. I was always an indifferent student at best and I figured when I applied myself, it would be easy or at least doable. But what if it isn’t? What if I was a C student because I’m just not smart enough? What if this is the best I can ever be?”

He leaned toward her. “Sunshine, it was one day.”

“I know, but—”

“One day. Give yourself a break.”

“I’m afraid I’ve peaked.”

He held in a smile. “Tell me about making pie.”

“What?”

“I’ve heard making the crust is the hard part. Why can’t you just add the ingredients and have piecrust?”

She frowned. “Weird question but sure. It’s not just about ingredients. You have to feel your way. It’s a texture thing and it takes practice.” Her mouth twisted. “Are you using a pie analogy to make me feel better? Pie?”

“Technically piecrust and yes. Look, no one is good at everything the first time. Riding a bike, singing, learning to read, going back to college.”

Sex. The thought came unbidden and he pushed it away. He was enjoying his conversation with Sunshine and he wasn’t going to screw it up by being a guy.

“It’s been one day,” he repeated. “Give yourself a break and some time. How was the professor intimidating?”

“She had a lot of rules. And there was something with blue books I didn’t understand.”

“Rules are good. You know where you stand and what’s expected. You’ll buy blue books at the student store and take your tests in them. She probably said she would collect blank ones from you before the tests, then give you back ones she brought.”

“Why?”

“To prevent cheating. Otherwise people write notes and formulas in the books.”

Sunshine looked shocked. “They do that?” She shook her head. “Of course they do that. I’m so out of touch. Some guy invited me back to his place for a pool party. He’s like eighteen. Why?”

Declan took another drink of his martini. “You’re asking me why an eighteen-year-old guy wants to go out with you? Is that a serious question?”

“I meant I’m not looking for that kind of thing.”

“You’ve sworn off men?” Knowing that would be a big help, he thought. Or at least he hoped it would be.

“Not exactly. I just don’t want to be all boo—Ah, I don’t want to be dating guys who are just in it for sex and a fling. I want someone who wants a real relationship. Someone smart and kind and funny who sees me as a person.”

There was a lot of information there—information he would have to think about later. “Seems reasonable.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Right now I want to do my job and figure out college.”

“I was a pretty decent student,” he told her. “Here’s what I can tell you. Keep up with the material. Try to read ahead so you can ask questions during the lecture. Go to the TA sessions.”

“That’s what Professor Rejefski said. I wrote down the dates, but what is it?”

“TAs are teacher’s assistants. Usually grad students. They have help sessions where they go over the material. You can get more personal attention. There’s probably a math lab on campus. Check that out. Sit up front so the professor gets to know you. Be engaged. Show interest in the class.”

“Why?”

He smiled. “Because she’ll see you’re trying. At the end of the semester, if you’re on the cusp of getting a higher grade, being engaged can push you over the top.”

Sunshine’s eyes widened. “They do that?”

“They’re human, so yes.”

“I’m shocked.”

He chuckled. “Get over it.”

“There’s a whole secret world out there.”

“The cliché is true—success is about showing up.” He pushed himself away from the counter. “You can do this. It will take a while to get into the rhythm of studying and taking tests, but I have every faith in you.”

She smiled. “That’s about the nicest thing you could have said. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They looked at each other. Declan wanted to tell himself there was a bit of tension sizzling between them but he had a feeling that was the martini talking. He slid off the stool.

“I’m going to check on Connor, then come back and help you pack up the baked goods.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll take care of it. Dinner at six?”

“Sure. See you then.”

And with that, order was restored to exactly what it should be.

Three days into Bianca’s training, Alec had to admit Margot was less of a disruption than he would have expected. She was quiet, unobtrusive and, except for when she was in the dining room to collect her breakfast, he rarely saw her.

From what his mother had told him, they were mostly working in the greenhouse until the temperatures warmed enough for them to be outside. Bianca seemed happy, his house was quiet and that was all Alec required of the situation. He still had his doubts about his mother’s ability to adapt to Wesley’s lifestyle, but that was not his problem.

He returned to the house and saw Margot standing in the cloisters, a cell phone in her hand.

“You piece of shit. Leave me alone.”

He was reasonably confident she wasn’t addressing him, so rather than respond, he paused and cleared his throat.

Margot spun to face him, her face flushing with color.

“Sorry,” she said, tucking her phone into a pocket. “I’m having a moment.”

She wore a sleeveless red dress that fit to her waist before flaring out to just above her knee. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. She had on flat shoes, no jewelry save a watch, and minimal makeup. She appeared competent and capable and yet he found himself keenly cognizant of the fact that she was both a woman and incredibly beautiful. A combination that seemed to, as his mother would phrase it, rattle his cage.

He shook off his awareness. “Do you need assistance?”

“Thank you, but no. I’m fine.” She hesitated. “An old boyfriend is trying to get in touch with me. I’ve changed cell numbers and moved, all without telling him. One of my friends thinks I should give him a second chance. Which would technically be a fourteenth chance. I said no. She thought I was wrong.”

Before he could decide how to respond, she continued.

“It’s not him, it’s me. I’m a relatively smart person. I know what I want in my life and I make it happen. But when I’m around him, I make absurd choices. I completely accept my responsibility in everything that has gone wrong. It’s really me. So the best thing is to avoid him. Which is getting easier. I just don’t want to see him.”

Alec felt a sudden and unexpected loathing toward a man he’d never met. How peculiar. “I’m sure everyone has someone in their past they wish to avoid.”

“Even you?”

“Even me.”

She flashed him a smile. “You’re very kind, but I suspect you’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“On the contrary, I’m telling the truth. I was engaged a few years ago. She was also a scholar. That was how we met. We were well suited and I suppose we fell in love.”

He paused knowing he could go either way with the rest of the story. He could say what he always said, or he could tell the truth.

He briefly looked out in the garden. No, not the truth. It was too personal, and far too humiliating.

“She was well published, or so I thought. It turns out she had been plagiarizing someone else’s work. An obscure historian who had published in the 1940s. She was eventually caught.” He returned his attention to Margot. “It wasn’t the cheating so much as what it said of her character.”

“Of course. If she would lie about that, what else would she lie about?”

“Exactly.”

“People are sometimes confusing,” she said. “I apologize for my outburst.”

“No need. I’m sure he deserved every word.”

She laughed. “He did, but still. All right. Change of subject. Things are going well with your mother. I would like to plan a couple of social events.”

Alec instinctively stiffened. He didn’t enjoy social events. There were too many people he didn’t know and he found small talk tiresome. Why did he have to put in the effort to get to know someone he would never meet again? How was that enjoyable? He wanted to say as much but he had a feeling Margot had only mentioned what she did because she wanted him to be there.

“Such as?” he asked, hoping he sounded enthused rather than resigned.

“First I want to meet Wesley. Getting to know him will help me understand the dynamics of their relationship. I was thinking drinks somewhere.”

“Oh. Wesley is easy to talk to. Probably the result of his diplomatic training. Invite him here. My mother will be more relaxed and that should help you with your observations.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Alec. That’s very kind. I’ll get going on that right away. The second event is a dinner. I want a combination of people Bianca knows and those she doesn’t. The dinner would be fairly formal. Several courses, a lot of passing of plates and choosing the right fork. The purpose is to see how she does with the etiquette and with the stress of the people. I would appreciate if you could be there. I’ll ask Wesley, of course. I’m thinking of inviting my sister, if that’s all right.”

“You have a sister?”

“A fraternal twin. Sunshine.” Margot smiled. “She’s a nanny for an eight-year-old boy. I’d also like to invite her employer and his son. Children always shift the dynamics. I’ll find a restaurant with a private room so we’re not dealing with outside influences.”

While he would never choose a dinner like she described, he saw the purpose immediately. When working with people, observation was an important tool.

“Have the dinner here,” he said impulsively. “Edna will be thrilled to cook something more challenging than food for the freezer. She is forever hinting I should host a party.” Something that was never going to happen. He did not, as a rule, like strangers in his house. He didn’t like situations where he was not completely in control. But somehow this was different.

Margot touched his arm. “Thank you, Alec. I really appreciate your help in this. Let me check with Bianca and get back to you with dates. You’re all right with me inviting my sister and her employer and his son?”

“Of course.”

She’d rested her fingers on his forearm for barely a second, yet he felt the imprint as if she’d branded him. How peculiar.

She pointed at the gardens. “Sunshine’s boss is a landscape architect. He’s going to love what you’ve done here.”

Information clicked into place. The landscape architect, the eight-year-old boy, the nanny possibly hired because...

“Does she work for Declan Dubois?”

“How did you know?”

He nodded toward the gardens. “That’s his work. He’s been to the house dozens of times. I’d forgotten he lost his wife a few months ago. I know Declan, but my mother’s never met him.”

Her mouth curved up. “And people say LA is a big town.”

“It may be but Pasadena is not. As I said, my mother doesn’t know him. She didn’t come see the house until my remodels were finished. He and his son will be strangers to her.”

“Excellent. Then we have a plan. I’ll be in touch with the details. Thank you again, Alec. I appreciate the support.”

“Of course.”

She walked inside. He watched her go, telling himself that he simply wanted to help his mother. There was no other reason he had agreed. It certainly wasn’t to impress Margot. What a ridiculous thing to think.


Chapter Seven

“Five, four, three, two, one. And take it down. You have thirty seconds to catch your breath.”

Margot lowered her butt to the seat of her bike and adjusted the resistance. Her thighs were on fire and she was breathing heavily, but in a good way. Spin class always got her heart racing.

“I hate you,” Sunshine gasped from the bike next to her. “Why would you make me do this?” Her sister was sweating and red faced. “Who thought this up? It’s hideous.”

Margot laughed. “You said you’d go to an exercise class if we were sitting down. We’re sitting.”

“Not all the time. The instructor keeps telling us to get our butts off the seats. What’s the point of having a seat if you can’t use it?”

Before Margot could answer, their rest period was over and they had to crank it up again. Sunshine groaned before increasing the resistance and standing in the pedals. When Margot glanced at her, Sunshine mouthed, “You are dead to me.”

Margot grinned.

Twenty minutes later the class was over. Sunshine wiped the sweat from her face and neck as she limped toward the door.

“I’m never coming back,” she muttered.

“You say that every time we do this class.”

“And I mean it. Later I forget, but this time I’m getting a tattoo so it doesn’t slip my mind.”

“Wasn’t there a movie about that?”

“Someone hating spin class? I don’t think so.”

Margot smiled. “Using tattoos to remember things. It doesn’t matter. Come on, I’ll buy you a smoothie.”

Sunshine rolled her eyes. “You mean at that juice place, don’t you? How about a milk shake from a burger place instead?”

“You just burned a bunch of calories and did something good for your body. Wouldn’t you rather have a vegan smoothie?”

“No.”

“I think you’re just pretending.”

“I’m sure that’s it.”

They walked across the parking lot to the juice store. Margot ordered her usual green drink of spinach, parsley, cucumber and kale with a little red apple tossed in for sweetness. Sunshine chose a protein drink with almond milk, cacao, banana and vegan vanilla protein powder.

“I’d rather have ice cream,” she said as they sat with their drinks at one of the outside tables. “You should care about my happiness.”

“I care about your health, too.”

“I don’t mind being fat. I’ve accepted my body shape. It is what it is.”

“You’re not fat.” Not in the least, Margot thought. Sunshine was lush and curvy. She looked vibrant and sexy and alive.

Margot, on the other hand, looked cool and distant. There was something about the way she talked or moved that put off people who didn’t know her well. She knew that technically she was considered beautiful, but in an “under glass” kind of way. People didn’t see her as approachable or warm.




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