Page 20 of Nine Week Nanny

Before my knuckles even connect with the door, it swings open.

"Pope!" Val launches herself at me, silver hair flowing, wafting that familiar scent of patchouli and grapefruit. Her hug is fierce, despite her willowy frame. "Let me look at you."

She pulls back, scrutinizing my face with those sharp blue eyes. "Are you eating enough protein? You look tired. Are you sleeping? I love having you here in Florida. Does this mean I get to see you more than twice a year?"

"Hello to you too, Val." I grin, knowing full well she’ll ignore my answer if it’s not the one she wants.

She smacks my arm. "Would it kill you to call me Mom once in a while?"

"Probably." I flash a quick smile to soften it.

"Let him breathe, babe." Hart appears in the doorway behind Val, two tall glasses of iced tea sweating in her hands. Her calm presence immediately shifts the energy. "He just got here."

Hart’s been around for eight years now. “Life partner,” Val says, though permanence has never been her thing. She’s a cat, burning through lives like matches.

Hart's eyes follow Val with practiced attention. I recognize that look. She's used to gently redirecting Val's whirlwind energy when needed.

"Come in, come in!" Val pulls me through the door. "Hart made grilled snapper. We aim to please and know you prefer fish over red meat. You look like you haven’t eaten."

The interior smells of fresh coffee and grilled fish. Plants hang from macrame holders, creating an indoor-outdoor feeling that suits them.

"I had breakfast," I say, accepting the iced tea from Hart with a grateful nod. "I had oatmeal and fruit, and drank a protein shake on the way over."

"Sit. I’ll fix you a plate."

"Val—"

"When's the last time you went on a date?" She's already halfway to the kitchen. "I know you're the most eligible bachelor in Colorado."

"I'm not here to discuss my dating life, Val."

"Then what are you here to discuss? I haven't seen you since Christmas." Val spins back around. "Which reminds me, why aren't you at work on a Tuesday morning? You never take days off."

I set my glass down. "I didn't just come for a social call."

The room shifts. Hart arches one eyebrow and exchanges a look with Val.

"Then let's sit down and talk." Hart gestures toward their eclectic living room, her voice steady.

I settle into a turquoise chair at the kitchen table, watching Hart arrange grilled fish tacos on colorful ceramic plates. The kitchen is alive with plants cascading from shelves, mismatched pottery everywhere, and the scent of cilantro and lime filling the air.

"I got a call last week." My voice sounds too formal, even to my own ears. "About Maria Lopez."

Val freezes mid-motion, a lime wedge suspended over the plates. "Chris's third wife? The one with the little boy?"

"Yes. She died of cancer."

Hart puts her tea down hard on the formica table, causing the ice cubes to clink against the side of the thick glass. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"The boy, Lennon, is seven now. As you know, he's my half-brother." The words are strange in my mouth. I've only met him once, but our connection is there.

Val's face darkens. "Oh, my God. That poor child. I know Chris wasn't in his life, so what will happen to him? Will he have to live with Chris?"

"That's exactly what I'm trying to prevent." I squeeze the lime over my taco, focusing on the action. "Camila Reyes, Maria's cousin, called me. She was worried Chris would want custody when he found out Maria left everything to him."

Val slams a fork down harder than necessary. "He doesn't care about that child. What's he really after?"

"Maria's estate. She had a nice-sized insurance policy, a house, and a small savings account. She left all of it to Lennon. Since he's a minor, whoever his guardian is will have control over all of that."