The Nanny Solution. Teresa Hill

      “And that’s exactly what I found you,” she claimed.

      “You wouldn’t try to fix me up with her, right? You know better than that.”

      Ms. Bee probably was the only woman alive who could live happily with him. He accepted that, was fine with it.

      Life was so much less complicated that way.

      “It wouldn’t matter if I was. I told you, she most certainly does not want a man in her life right now.”

      Which was a damned shame, Simon thought, though he certainly shouldn’t.

      He liked a woman who wasn’t intimidated by him, who could spit fire every now and then.

      Especially in his bed.

      Audrey still couldn’t believe she’d actually done it!

      She’d gotten a job! One that came with a place to live that was tantalizingly near her daughter.

      The first step of many toward getting back into her daughter’s life.

      Not even meeting the ultrascary Ms. Bee could ruin this day.

      And Ms. Bee was ultrascary.

      Frosty as a cold north wind, squinty-eyed, rail-thin with a spine as straight as a ruler and if possible, even more adept at firing off orders than her employer.

      She’d allowed Audrey entrance into her spotless, cavernous kitchen only long enough to get her social security number and reiterate her hatred of the dog and all that Audrey was expected to do without bothering or causing any additional problems for the man of the house or Ms. Bee.

      And Audrey was most definitely not to get any ideas about causing the kind of trouble that involved an unworthy woman trying to get her hands on Simon Collier.

      Audrey tried to assure Ms. Bee that she wanted no kind of trouble at all in her life at present. She didn’t think Ms. Bee was convinced.

      “Whew,” she said to herself when she finally escaped the confines of the kitchen and was safely in the backyard again.

      Good thing she wasn’t here to make friends.

      She was headed for her car to leave when Tink, who’d been sleeping under a nearby tree, lifted his head and came bounding toward her as if the dog had experienced more than enough of Ms. Bee and couldn’t bear the thought of Audrey leaving him all alone with her.

      He promptly jumped up on Audrey, barking excitedly and trying to lick her face again.

      Audrey had to work to put on a somewhat stern face and say, “Off,” while giving the dog a little push until he was on all fours again.

      Then she knelt down beside him and scratched his pretty black head.

      “I have to go, but it’s only going to be for a little while. I promise. And then I’ll be back, and you and I are going to be buddies,” she told him.

      He made a half-crying sound, as if he understood that she was leaving and thought he might convince her to stay.

      “Oh, baby,” she said, knowing what it was like to feel all alone in the world and unloved. “I just have to get my clothes and some shoes, a few CDs, some gardening books, maybe some treats for you, and then I’ll be here all the time.”

      More crying.

      Pathetic crying.

      The dog could really turn on the sympathy cries when he wanted to.

      “I’m sorry. I have to go.” Audrey kissed him on the snout, then stood up to go.

      Tink started barking like crazy.

      She couldn’t shush him fast enough.

      Ms. Bee appeared in the open back door of the house, a scowl on her stern face, clearly ready to rebuke the dog until she saw Audrey and turned her scorn to the adult in the group.

      “Oh,” she said. “You’re still here.”

      And then she gave a rather theatrical huff, as if it were an insult that Audrey hadn’t left quickly enough, and she stood even straighter, her expression becoming even more annoyed.

      “Will you be doing something about that thing or ignoring him until he becomes your responsibility tomorrow?” Ms. Bee asked.

      Audrey managed a slight smile and what she hoped was an even tone. “Actually, I thought I’d take him for a walk, that a little more exercise might help him quiet down for a while and…urn…make your day a little more pleasant.”

      If it was possible for Ms. Bee to have a pleasant day.

      Audrey wasn’t sure it was.

      Ms. Bee looked puzzled by the idea of a pleasant day but simply gave another huff, shut the door and disappeared back into the house.

      Audrey took a breath, went and got the dog’s leash from a peg on the inside of the garage, clipped it to the dog’s collar and then unlatched the collar holding his link to the electronic fence around the property. All the while Tink danced with excitement, no doubt knowing he was going somewhere and greatly complicating the entire process.

      Audrey didn’t even try to correct his behavior at the moment. She just wanted to put some space between herself and Ms. Bee.

      She and Tink set off at a brisk walk, which soon became a fast jog. It was that or let the dog pull her along, another bad precedent to set. So Audrey ran, again taking the path of least resistance, telling herself she’d do better tomorrow, when her job started for real.

      They ran past the grand, old near-mansions of Simon Collier’s neighborhood and then took a turn down the sidewalk along the main road that led from his neighborhood to Audrey’s old one.

      They ran past the entrance without slowing a bit, nerves pushing Audrey on, boundless energy and the allure of freedom pushing the dog. She sensed that Tink didn’t get to run often and that he really liked running.

      They got to the ice cream store on the corner of Maple and Vine, a longtime favorite of Audrey’s daughter, and she couldn’t run anymore.

      There were a lot of dogs in the neighborhood, and the owner kindly left a big container of water out for thirsty ones. Audrey stopped to catch her breath and let Tink have a drink.

      He was so excited to be out and about in unfamiliar territory that he couldn’t quite decide what he wanted more—to satisfy his thirst or properly explore his surroundings.

      He’d take a couple of huge, messy laps of water, then lift his head and dance a bit, checking out cars and pedestrians alike, grinning that silly grin of his and looking at Audrey as if he absolutely adored her for freeing him from the confines of the house and the people there who just didn’t understand or appreciate him.

      “Aah, you’re just a big, sweet baby,” Audrey said, scratching his head and giving him another kiss.

      He jumped up on her again, as if he just couldn’t get close enough to her, and before she could correct him again, an astonished voice to her right yelled, “Mom?”

      She turned toward the voice, and there was Andie, holding a chocolate ice cream cone and looking as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, and Andie’s friend Jake Elliott, who’d been there to witness so many of Audrey’s sins.

      “What are you doing here?” Andie asked accusingly.

      “I…” Oh, she’d tried to figure out how to do this a thousand times, and the truth was that nothing would make it easier. Nothing would make this a welcome change to her daughter, Audrey feared. So she just looked her daughter in the eye and said it. “I’ve taken a job in Highland Park. I’m going to be living there.”

      Andie looked horrified. Her pupils got big and round, suddenly swimming in tears, and she took a step back, as if even this distance was much too close.

      “You