Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Fuck it, I decided, and kept moving. Maybe the girl was pretty, and okay, my pulse did pick up a little when I saw her standing there on my porch, and fine, I felt sorry for her if she’d been treated the way Mabel had described, but I didn’t need to impress her. If she didn’t like the way I smelled, she could leave. I didn’t need a girlfriend, I needed a nanny.
What I appeared to have in my living room was a circus act.
“Wow,” my sister said. “Can you teach me that move?”
The girl—Veronica—whirled around, her cheeks turning red. “Oh gosh! Sorry, I didn’t see you there. I was just—uh—”
“She was showing us what she does to bullies,” Adelaide said.
“Bullies?” I questioned.
“Yes. See, she was supposed to get married to this man who wasn’t nice to her, so she kicked him in the face,” my daughter explained.
“Bam!” Owen added, shooting his bare foot out and catching the leg of an end table. He grabbed his toes and hopped around in pain.
Veronica held up her palms. “But I promise you, that is not how I usually behave in a church. Or anywhere else. I don’t believe in violence. I just sort of . . . snapped.” As if she realized how that might sound, she quickly went on. “But I don’t have a bad temper or anything. I’m actually very easygoing.”
“She makes birthday cake with sprinkles,” Owen said.
Adelaide nodded. “And she’s going to make us each one for our birthday, so we don’t have to share.”
“Your birthdays aren’t until February,” I reminded them. “You two go up to your rooms please.” I pointed toward the stairs and gave them a look that said I meant business.
They made eye contact with each other and had one of those twin conversations with their minds, during which they must have considered refusing to follow orders but decided it wouldn’t be worth it. Defeated, they trudged toward the stairs.
Mabel cleared her throat. “So tell us about yourself, Veronica.”
“Well, I grew up in New Jersey. I moved to New York as soon as I could save up the money, and I got my dream job as a Radio City Rockette. During the off-season, I waitressed or bartended.”
“So you’ve got hospitality experience,” said Mabel. “And a good work ethic.”
“I learned it from my mom.” Veronica’s full lips curved into a proud smile. “She worked harder than anyone I’ve ever known.”
“Do you have any childcare experience?” I asked, dismayed to find myself staring at her mouth. It was wide and lush and looked like a good time.
“Not really,” she said reluctantly.
“Babysitting when you were younger?” Mabel prompted. “Maybe younger siblings or cousins?”
Veronica shook her head. “I was an only child and didn’t grow up around any other family. It was just me and my mom. But I taught dance to kids.” She lifted her bare shoulders. “Does that count?”
“Sure, it does!” Mabel sounded excited, but I wasn’t in the market for a dance instructor.
“How about references?” I asked.
Veronica thought for a moment, then tugged up the strapless dress. “I don’t really have any outside the dance world. I could try to track down some of the bar managers I worked for. They would tell you I’m honest, I’m a team player, and I always show up on time.”
“Punctuality is so important,” Mabel enthused.
“Do you have a valid driver’s license?” I asked.
“Yes!” Veronica brightened up. “I definitely have a valid driver’s license.” Hurrying over to the couch, she pulled a wallet from her bag and handed her license to me as if I’d carded her.
I took it from her and studied it, starting with the photo. She was much prettier in person, but maybe that was because she looked sort of sad and serious in this picture. No smile, no light in her eyes, and her complexion was pale, almost gray. Her full name was Veronica Marie Sutton, and according to the birth date listed, she was twenty-nine years old. The issuing state was Illinois.
“I thought you lived in New York.”
“I moved to Chicago to live with my fiancé.”
“Did you have a job in Chicago?” I asked, handing her license back.
She hesitated, fidgeting with the card, flicking one edge with her fingernail. “Yes and no. My fiancé put me on the board of some charities his family supports, so I did some fundraising and special events.”
“So you were in philanthropy.” Mabel made it sound fancy.
“You could say that.”
“And how did you end up in Cherry Tree Harbor?” I asked.
“My fiancé—ex-fiancé’s—family owns a home here, and this is where they always have weddings.”
“What’s the family?”
“Vanderhoof.”
I nodded. I’d heard of them. Rich family that liked to throw their name and their opinions around.
“But I’m afraid if you ask them for a reference, it will not present me in a very positive light,” Veronica said quietly. “Needless to say, Neil and I did not end on good terms.”