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She stared at him. “A job.”
“I’m in the market for a temporary nanny.” He turned around, away from Milo, and lowered his voice. “As you probably figured out, my brother has some issues. He’s autistic.”
“He has autism.”
Right. People first, then the condition. He was working on remembering the correct PC terminology. “That’s right. He’s on the spectrum, apparently moderate to severe.”
“Apparently?” As he might have expected, she keyed in on that single word.
“That’s what the test results say, anyway.” He didn’t want to have this conversation in the middle of the produce section of the grocery store, but here they were and he felt he needed to be honest with her. “I only met Milo less than a month ago and don’t know anything about his previous history. He has no medical records, no school records. Nothing.”
Her eyebrows rose in clear skepticism. “That’s impossible. Was he raised in the jungle?”
“Close enough.” How else would a person describe Stella’s alternative, nonconformist, substance-loving lifestyle?
“Impossible or not, that’s the situation. Though his hearing is fine, Milo is mostly nonverbal, at least as far as we can tell. He can say no, but that’s it.” He didn’t tell her no was Milo’s favorite word and he employed it hundreds of times a day.
“He has obvious behavioral challenges,” Bowie went on. “We’ve seen a couple of specialists over the last three weeks and they place him somewhere on the spectrum, but exactly where is tough to say. I only know he’s a difficult kid. I’ve been through three nannies in three weeks. The last one quit yesterday.”
That was why Bowie found himself in the supermarket, dealing with a meltdown he couldn’t handle.
“I’m sorry. But I don’t see how it concerns me. I’m only home to visit my family.”
“I’ve hired a new nanny who is an autism specialist and is supposed to be the top of her field, but she can’t be here for three weeks. I’ll be honest with you, Miss Bailey. I can’t take three weeks off work right now, and I’m desperate to find someone to help with him.”
She arched one of those expressive eyebrows. “So you decided to accost stray women in the supermarket and offer the job to them?”
He had the oddest feeling Katrina Bailey didn’t like him, though he couldn’t figure out exactly what he had done. “Not just any stranger,” he pointed out. “A woman who instinctively knew the right thing to do with Milo, where everyone else seems to flounder—and a schoolteacher who has already been vetted by the school system.”
“I haven’t taught in the last year,” she replied. “How do you know I haven’t been in prison during that time?”
“Have you?”
She made a face. “No. But you just met me five minutes ago and have no way of knowing that.”
“I saw the way you interacted with that girl. Hannah. She said you were her favorite teacher. Besides, I watched you with Milo. You’re obviously well trained and more patient with him than I can ever be. You knew just what to do during one of his tantrums.”
If he hoped to flatter her into taking the job, he was doomed to disappointment. At his words, her features seemed to tighten. “Dealing with a child in the midst of a meltdown can be challenging, but really, you only need a compassionate heart and a willingness to focus on the best interests of the child.”
Was she implying he didn’t have either of those things? Bowie might have been offended if he wasn’t afraid she was right.
He was trying, Bowie reminded himself. Hadn’t he immediately flown to Portland, brought the boy back to Haven Point, spent time away from Caine Tech he could ill afford in order to find the best care provider for him?
He didn’t need one more thing to feel guilty about.
“I do want the best for Milo. You’re the first person in three weeks who instinctively seems to know how to manage him.”
“He’s a child,” she retorted, pitching her voice low, presumably so Milo didn’t overhear. He could have told her his brother wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to them. He had pulled more twist ties off the roll and was forming them into tangled shapes.
“He’s a child,” she repeated. “Not some new product under development at Caine Tech. He doesn’t need to be managed.”
He wasn’t sure how she knew he worked at Caine Tech or why she reacted so strongly to that particular choice of words. Right now, it didn’t matter. The only thing he cared about was convincing her to help him.
“It was only a figure of speech,” he said. “Look, I’m desperate here. What am I supposed to do? I can’t keep missing work and I also can’t take Milo to the office with me. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
She didn’t look convinced by his plea. If anything, her features turned even frostier. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”
He felt as if someone had just opened the doorway offering a light at the end of the tunnel and then slammed it shut again in his face.
“Not even for ten thousand dollars?”
She stared at him, her mouth slightly ajar. “Ten thousand dollars? You’re willing to pay ten thousand dollars for three weeks’ work?”
It probably wouldn’t be considered good business practice to admit he would be willing to pay much more than that, if only he could regain some semblance of control in his life.
“Okay. Twelve. But that’s my final offer.”
She looked dumbfounded, and for a moment he clung to a tiny sliver of hope that he might have a chance. In the end, she shook her head slowly, eyeing him like he had several loose screws.
“I said no,” she said. “I appreciate that you’re in a tight spot, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“You don’t have to answer right now. Think about it overnight. If you change your mind, you can find me at 4211 Lakeview Drive. It’s a big cedar-and-stone house right along Serenity Harbor.”
“I know where it is. But don’t count on me changing my mind, Mr. Callahan. I’m only in town for my sister’s wedding and to visit family. I have no intention of taking a temporary job.”
“Just think about it,” he said.
Before she could respond, a pretty redhead turned the corner of the vegetable aisle. He had met Samantha Fremont a few times since he came to town and found her nice enough, though he always left their interactions wishing he were better at small talk.
She appeared surprised to find him and Katrina talking together, then her carefully made-up features shifted into a bright smile.
“Hi, Bowie,” she said, her voice a little breathless, before she turned to Katrina.
“There you are!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been looking all over the store for you. You’re not finished shopping yet? What’s taking you so long?”
“I was just about to check out. We had a little...situation, but it seems to be under control now. Sorry about that.”
“No worries.” She turned back to Bowie. “I don’t know if you remember me, but we met a month or so ago at Snow Angel Cove. You work at Caine Tech with Aidan and Ben, right?”
Yes. And they were counting on him to deliver results, as soon as he figured out what to do with his brother. “I remember. Good to see you again.”
“I don’t know this little guy, though. Is this your son?”
Milo, who had reacted with uncharacteristic warmth to Katrina, gave Sam his blank, almost empty stare.
“This is my brother, Milo.”
“Hi there, Milo. My name is Samantha.”
With more of that odd affinity, he sidled closer to Katrina, who gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. Sam is nice. She’s my very best friend in the whole wide world and has been since we were just a little older than you.”
After a moment, Milo handed over another twist-tie creation. Samantha Fremont blinked in surprise at it for a moment, then accepted it gingerly.
“Um. Thanks,” she said, clearly at sea.
Katrina tugged her away.
“We have to go. We’re going to be late for a party. It was nice to meet you, Milo.”
She hadn’t said it was nice to meet him. Bowie told himself not to be disappointed by the omission.
“Think about it,” he said.
“I gave you my answer, Mr. Callahan. I won’t change my mind.”
As she walked away with her friend, he had to hope she was wrong about that. If not, he wasn’t sure how he would survive the next three weeks until the autism specialist could arrive.
* * *
KATRINA’S SHOULDER BLADES itched as she walked away from Bowie and Milo, and she was certain if she turned around, she would find one—or possibly both—of them watching after her.
This was what happened to women who didn’t mind their own business. They ended up having to turn down outrageous job offers they couldn’t for a moment actually be considering.
Sam waited only until they had headed for the checkout line before questions burst out of her. “What was that all about? What are you supposed to think about?”
“Nothing. That looks like the shortest line.” She headed for the checkout line closest to the door, waving at one of her mother’s friends as she went.
“It didn’t seem like nothing.” Sam gave a short laugh that didn’t sound entirely amused. She shook her head. “I turn my back for five minutes to pick up my mom’s blood pressure medication and come back to find you chatting with the hottest guy in town. I should have expected it. Good to see some things don’t change. You’re still the same flirty Kat.”
She wasn’t. The last year had changed her profoundly, in ways she couldn’t begin to explain to Sam.
“Did he ask you out?” Samantha’s voice had a strangely careful quality to it as she started pulling items out of the cart and setting them on the belt.
“No!” Katrina exclaimed, more sharply than she meant to. “No. It wasn’t like that at all. He’s looking for a temporary caregiver for his younger brother. That’s all.”
“Like a babysitter?”
“More like a nanny, I guess.”
“I still can’t believe that’s his brother, though I suppose they do look alike.”
Katrina wasn’t sure she completely agreed. They had the same color hair and eyes, though the boy’s skin was a shade or two darker and his mouth was different.
Not that she noticed.
“He seemed like a cute kid, though I don’t know what this is about.” Sam dangled the little twist-tie sculpture Milo had made for her.
“It’s a penguin. Can’t you tell?”
“No. Apparently you have to have an elementary education degree to fully appreciate the artistry.”
“Apparently.”
“No wonder the man wants you to be his kid brother’s nanny. You’re perfect for it—even though he only met you five minutes ago.”
She was still reeling from the dollar signs that had temporarily danced in front of her gaze when he mentioned the amount he was willing to pay. That would more than pay the rest of her legal costs in Colombia from her grasping attorney.
“I said the same thing. He knows absolutely nothing about me, yet he wants to hand over his brother to me.”
“How did all that happen in the five minutes I was at the pharmacy?”
She replayed the conversation in her head and still couldn’t quite make sense of it. “Milo is on the autism spectrum. He was in the middle of a meltdown in the middle of the produce aisle over some grapes. I was somehow able to divert his attention, and now Bowie Callahan apparently thinks I’m some kind of miracle worker. Anne Sullivan to Milo’s Helen Keller. It’s ridiculous, really.”
But twelve thousand dollars. How could she turn it down?
“You’re not taking the job?”
“I’m only here for a few weeks. I don’t want to spend my whole time taking care of some rich guy’s brother who has autism, no matter how cute he is. The brother, I mean.”
“Are you kidding? You should totally take the job. I would jump at the chance to work for Bowie Callahan.”
“Too bad he’s not in the market to hire a personal shopper or something. Especially one who specializes in women’s fashions.”
“If he needed my particular skills, I would figure out a way. I’m not the only one. Half the women in town are in love with the man. When Eppie and Hazel saw him for the first time, I was afraid they would go straight into cardiac arrest.”
Yet another reason she didn’t want to take the job. She’d had enough of good-looking men to last her a lifetime.
She had learned her lesson well after what happened in South America with that idiot Carter Ross.
“You’re totally going to do it. I can see you wavering.”
“I’m not,” she protested.
Before Sam could argue, the shopper ahead of them picked up his receipt and bag from the checker and it was their turn.
“Hey, Katrina!” The checker, an older woman with unnaturally blond hair and nicotine-stained teeth, beamed at her. “I thought that was you when you first came in earlier. My line was backed up and I didn’t have time to come find you to say hello.”
Her smile felt tight and forced. She genuinely liked Filene Harding, but their encounters were always a bit awkward. Katrina had dated Filene’s son a few times in high school, and Filene always acted as if they had a much closer bond than Katrina thought.
“Hi, Filene. How are you?”
“Good. Good. How are you, hon? I heard you’ve been in Mexico or some crazy thing like that.”
“Colombia, actually. A little village about an hour from Barranquilla.”
Filene didn’t seem to care about the details. “You know, it’s the funniest thing that you came in today. I was just looking at a picture of you at the prom with my Bryan the other day. You two were so cute together! I always thought so. I’ll have to tell him you’re back in town.”
Bryan Harding had been renowned for his octopus hands in high school. Once she figured that out after the second date, she tried her best to avoid the guy. “How is Bryan these days?” she asked to be polite, then could have kicked herself for encouraging the woman.
