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“Your story is very inspiring, Miss Hayes. But you know what’s less inspiring?” She leans forward and whispers, “Young Salon Owner Blackmailed Into Becoming Nanny’.”
My eyes widen, but I quickly tuck the reaction behind a stony expression.
“You are such a strong, capable woman, Island—can I call you Island?”
“No, you may not,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Island,” Genevieve scoots to the edge of her chair and speaks in a smug tone, “I know your heart burns for freedom. And I know that, even if you have a soft spot for Clay and those children, you want that freedom back. You’re a young, beautiful, successful business owner.” She motions to me. “Why should you have all that you’ve worked for snatched away by a man who can’t take no for an answer? Why should your ability to get up and go on vacation be stifled by a six-year-old who needs you for every step she takes?”
My nostrils flare. “You know nothing of my relationship with them.”
“I know that you didn’t want to watch those kids.” Genevieve tilts her head. “I know you had an opportunity to be free of Clay’s draconian contract and he rejected it.”
My head whips up. “What?”
“Is this your first time hearing of it?” She touches her pearl necklace. Both the ring and the pearls gather the light and reflect it back in rainbows. “Your little friend at the bank, Mr. Porter, was kind enough to throw himself on the altar and pour his blood out for Clay.” Her eyes gleam with cunning. “But did Clay take his offer? No, he refused. He insisted, even, on keeping you on his little leash, subservient to him. Trapped. With no way out.”
My head spins. My body feels off-balance.
Why would Clay reject Porter’s offer? Why would he continue to hold my salon for ransom when there was another solution?
“It gets worse. Would you like to hear?”
I look away, but I don’t tell her no.
“Sunny and Darrel Hastings worked it out so their very capable and accomplished nanny, Ms. Hansley, could watch Regan in the afternoons. Ms. Hansley has worked for Kenya and Holland Alistair and Vanya Beckford who, I hear, is your idol.”
I grip the edges of the desk, my mind so twisted that it hurts.
“Guess what Clay said when Ms. Hansley offered to work something out with him?”
My hand falls lifelessly to my thighs. “Enough.”
“You think I’m the bad guy, don’t you?” Genevieve sighs. Shoulders slumped, she picks at the frills on her sleeve. “I’m the stereotypical crazy witch who just wants to take candies from babies. I’m the Big Bad Baby Eater in Chanel.” She juts out her fancy shoes. “But the truth is, Island,I’mnot the bad guy. I’m just a grandmother who wants to protect her grandkids.”
“What do you want from me?” I hiss, my body trembling.
I can’t hide it. She got to me and now I don’t feel steady. It’s like the whole world is tilting under me.
“It’s simple. Testify in court that Clay is dangerous and controlling.” She slides an envelope over the table.
My eyes shoot to hers.
“Don’t think of this as a bribe. It’s compensation for all you’ve done. Abe speaks highly of you.” The smile that flashes across her face this time is genuine. She really does love him. “He’s excited about the play and about his new haircut. And he keeps mentioning a password…” She shakes her head. “I believe that I owe some of that positive change to you.”
I push the envelope back to her. “I’m not taking your money.”
“I insist—”
“I’m not going to rip Abe and Regan away from their father either.” My eyes burn into hers. “You say that Clay blackmailed me to get what he wants. Why should I letyoubuy me over? Wouldn’t becoming a pawn to you both make me more pathetic?”
She laughs. “I like you, Island. I wish we hadn’t met on opposite sides of this fight.”
My temper pulses.
I’m over this.
“If you’re done here, you can leave. You’ve already wasted more than enough of my time.” I stand.