Redeem Me (Beckett Brothers #2)

6. Ivy

Chapter Six

IVY

Orla is one of the sweetest, cutest kids I’ve ever worked with. My heart breaks for what she’s endured in her short life. Dead fish and multiple nannies clearly aren’t helping.

I can help though. I’d love to try at least. Try to bring some happiness back into this beautiful little girl’s life. I’ve always been compelled to help people, kids especially. Perhaps because I couldn’t help my own sister. My mother begged me to study medicine. She’s convinced I’m a ‘fixer’. I think that’s just wishful thinking.

It’s not ideal that Orla’s father is the tall, dark and tortured stranger who got me over the line faster than a Formula One car, but I can get over that happy accident, if he can. Especially now I know he’s a widow, not a cheater. Though, given the way he’s been simultaneously scowling and spying on me all morning, and the fact my suitcase is still at the bottom of the stairs, him “getting over it” isn’t looking likely.

Is he worried I’m going to spontaneously jump him?

Or say to his kids, “Hey guys, guess what Daddy did the other night. ”

As if.

We’re both adults. Professionals. We can forget it ever happened. Well, okay, I’ll probably never forget, but I can pretend. It doesn’t have to be an issue unless he makes it one. We both know it can never happen again.

‘I’m hungry,’ Orla whines, tugging me towards the opulent kitchen. The back wall is entirely made of glass and opens out onto a dark, polished wooden decking area with a rustic -looking table and six chairs.

A woman in her late fifties is washing lettuce over a white porcelain sink. She’s wearing a white short-sleeved blouse and smart navy slacks. Her greying hair is scraped back into a tight bun. She tilts her weathered face to us as we approach, her eyes flicking between Orla and me. ‘Hello, who do we have here?’

‘This is Ivy. She’s my new nanny,’ Orla announces proudly.

‘Dad says she’s not staying,’ a voice squeaks from behind us.

‘Oh, hi Owen.’ I turn to find a little boy with the same cold eyes and surly frown as his father. He has a tattered teddy under his arm and a defiant expression on his face. ‘Where have you been hiding all morning?’

I’d hoped he might join Orla and me in the garden. I’d hoped to get the chance to prove to Caelon that I’m the right woman for the job, because the last thing I want is to have to go back to Dermot’s with my tail between my legs and admit I got fired on my first day. By his friend, no less.

‘She is staying.’ Orla stamps her pink Nike runner on the tiles.

‘Is not.’ Owen barely even looks my way.

Tall, Dark and Tortured chooses this moment to strut into the kitchen. He ignores the bickering erupting between his children and simply scoops his son up into his arms.

It’s a good job he’s so crabby or I’d be at serious risk of crushing on him, whether it’s professional or not. Mind you, the man has plenty of reasons to be crabby, given he lost his wife. Orla didn’t mention what happened to her mother, but she did let slip that they’ve had eight nannies in that time.

Damn Dermot for not telling me more the other night. As soon as I get a free second, I’m going to google the shit out of Caelon Beckett.

‘Is it lunch time, Liz?’ Caelon refuses to look my way.

‘It’ll be ready in five minutes, Mr Beckett. I set the table outside.’ She nods to the open back doors.

Am I supposed to sit with them or make myself scarce? In my previous placements, I’ve been the cook as well as the nanny, eating only after I’d served the family.

But I can’t sit down with the Becketts and pretend I’m one of them. That would be weird. What did the other nannies do?

‘Come on.’ Orla tugs my hand, guiding me to where a cool summer breeze brushes in through the kitchen.

My feet remain rigid. I crouch to my knees and untangle my fingers from hers. It’s clear Caelon doesn’t want me here. ‘Orla, I’ve had the best morning playing with you.’

I could crash in a hotel for a few nights, sign up to a few more agencies until I find another position. Somewhere sunny. Somewhere the father doesn’t despise me. Somewhere far away from my overbearing brother.

‘Don’t.’ Orla slaps her palm over my mouth. ‘Don’t say you’re leaving too!’

I prise her fingers away and give them a gentle squeeze. Tears well in her eyes and my chest cracks open. ‘You heard your daddy. There was a mix up at the agency. I’m sure they’re going to send you someone really nice.’

‘But you’re really nice!’ she wails. ‘Daddy, please don’t let her leave.’

Caelon sighs, a pained expression settling on his face as he focuses on his daughter. ‘Relax, Orla, sweetheart.’ He crosses the room and ruffles her hair affectionately. ‘Ivy can stay, for the summer anyway.’

I swallow my surprise and lock eyes with my new boss. ‘I can?’

He holds my stare, sporting that same tortured expression. ‘If it suits you?’

‘Absolutely.’ It’ll give me time to get something else lined up, and time to hang out with Orla. It’s obvious how much she craves affection, attention and security, and while I’m here, I’m going to smother her with all the above. I’m also going to make it my personal mission to win over Owen. After everything this family’s been through, these kids need some fun. I’m the right woman for this job, even if Caelon doesn’t want to admit it.

‘Yessss!’ Orla fist pumps the air and drags me outside to the table. Silver cutlery sparkles in the sunlight. ‘You’re sitting next to me.’

I look to my new boss, checking if he’s okay with me eating with them. He shrugs. ‘I’m not usually around for mealtimes.’

Well, that should make things easier, at least.

Though tell that to the sharp stab of disappointment in my sternum.

I brush it off, taking the seat next to Orla. Caelon and Owen take their seats across the table. My gaze sweeps over the lush landscape. It’s so peaceful. So tranquil. The lawn could double up as a golf course. Boxes of lavender line the decking and a stone pathway leads to another outdoor area where a swimming pool glitters invitingly from forty feet away.

This house, these grounds, are heavenly.

What a setting to spend the summer.

‘Owen, do you want to play “floor is lava” with me and Ivy after lunch?’ Orla picks up her knife and instinctively I take it from her hand and place it down again.

‘No.’ Owen doesn’t even pause to think about it.

‘Do you want to play tag?’ I venture.

‘He doesn’t like running,’ Orla informs me, while Caelon watches on silently.

‘What do you like?’ I lean forwards, but Owen refuses to meet my eye. ‘I’m not great at football, but I can be the goalie if you want to play penalties?’

Owen glances at his father, then towards the pool sparkling at the far side of the house. ‘I like swimming, but we’re not allowed unless Dad’s with us. He worries we’re going to die like Mammy did.’

Caelon winces.

Did his wife drown? I open my mouth to say I’m a competent swimmer, but Caelon speaks first.

‘I’ll take you to the pool later, buddy.’ He lifts a glass of water from the table and raises it to his lips. ‘It’ll give Ivy time to unpack.’

Owen’s face lights up and he looks like a different child. ‘Yes! Thanks, Daddy. You’re the best.’ Caelon pats his head affectionately. ‘Do you remember the time Mammy jumped into the pool and soaked you in your work suit?’

Caelon’s teeth sink into his lip. ‘Course I do.’

‘And when you told her off, she got out and pretended to say sorry, but then she pushed you in with all your clothes still on.’ Owen hoots as his tiny hand slaps the table. ‘And the two of you laughed for ages after that.’

My eyebrows rocket skywards. So, Mr Tall, Dark, and Tortured wasn’t always this way. His wife’s death must have hit him horrendously hard. He must have loved her so much. I can’t imagine what he’s been through. No wonder he’s miserable, sullen, and cold.

He might not want me here, but he needs me. These kids need to laugh again. And so does he, whether he wants to or not.