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In an ideal world Florence would rush into her arms and confess her love and have a happy ending. Hell, in an ideal world, they'd have solved the parents' problems too and given the kids back a happy family and everything would work out perfectly.

But this wasn't an ideal world.

“What about us?” she said, roughly. “Wasn't this just a summer experiment? Something to pass the time?”

She didn't know why she'd said it, except that the thought still lurked in her mind. She still couldn't quite believe that someone like Hadley would like someone like her. And she continued before Hadley could say anything.

“Why did you need this job?”

“Why did you?” Hadley countered.

Florence laughed bitterly. “Because I'm in debt up to my ears and this is the only damn thing I can do. What about you then, poor little rich girl?”

For a second she saw that Hadley wanted to lie. But she didn't. “I needed to hold down a job to prove to my father that I could so that he'd give me my allowance back.”

To give her her due, Hadley didn't look proud of the fact.

“That's the difference between us then, isn't it?” Florence said, pushing t-shirts into her suitcase.

Because this was all a pipe dream. Whatever Hadley was about to say, it didn't matter. It couldn't matter. Hadley would tire of her sooner or later. The woman had to prove to her own father that she could commit to something. And when Hadley tired of her, she'd be even worse off than she was right now.

Hadley stepped into the room. “The thing is...” She cleared her throat and then started again. “The thing is, I think I might be falling in love with you.”

???

It was the hardest thing that she'd ever said even though she was sure now that it was said that she meant it. And she was sure that it was going to make a difference. Florence's back was turned, but she knew that this was it. They'd move in together, they'd figure something out. Things would work.

So when Florence turned back, her face a mask of pain, it came as a shock.

“No. I'm not your plaything, I'm not your project, I'm not a game you can play until you get bored of me and want to try something else.” Florence's voice was calm, but her eyes were fiery. “You played at being a nanny, you get an allowance from your father, you're a child. A rich child.”

“I'm not, I—”

“No, Hadley. Understand this, listen to me, I can't risk this on you. I can't risk everything on someone who doesn't know the meaning of hard work, of commitment, of anything that I hold dear. I don't deny that I have feelings for you, but I can't let those feelings be confused with emotions. I can't let those feelings rule my decisions.”

Hadley couldn't find words.

“Hadley, I can't love you.”

Hadley's heart started to crack, started to crumble in her chest. Why couldn't Florence just believe her? Why did everyone think she was never serious? Why couldn't Florence see that she was being honest, open, that she was putting herself on the line here?

In the end, perhaps Florence was just like everyone else. Someone who didn't take her seriously. Someone who only saw a flake rather than the person that she was, someone who was finding herself.

And there was nothing else left to do.

Hadley closed the door gently and walked away.

Chapter Twenty Eight

She couldn't believe that she'd slept. But after Hadley had gone, Florence had curled up on her bed and wept for the first time in a long, long time. Somehow, she'd fallen asleep. Which meant that she was now tugging hastily-packed suitcases down the stairs.

Just as she reached the bottom, Mr. Allan came out of his office. “Ah, Florence.”

“Ah, Mr. Allan.” She stared up at him as though daring him to speak.

“Your final pay check will be sent to your bank account,” he sniffed. “And do remember, this is for the good of the children. I can't possibly leave my children in the care of someone with a dubious relationship to the truth.”

Florence pressed her lips together and started to walk to the front door.