Page 3 of The Homemaker (The Chain of Lakes #1)

Chapter Three

Murphy

The heart has a flawless memory.

Plan accordingly.

I don’t know why Blair agreed to stay with her parents for the summer. She and her mom can plan the wedding via phone, text, and video chat. Not that I’m complaining about returning to Minnesota. It’s my favorite place on Earth, but Blair and her dad constantly exchange barbs.

“Be nice,” Blair says, blowing out a long breath before opening the car door.

“Are you talking to me?”

She opens one eye. “No. I’m giving myself a pep talk. You’re fine. My parents love you because you’re annoyingly agreeable.” She grins and steps out of the white Mercedes SUV, adjusting her tight jeans and pink sleeveless blouse .

I open the back to retrieve our luggage. “You used to call my agreeability endearing . What happened?”

“Babe, I want you to agree with me, not with my father.”

“I don’t agree with your father. See? Look at me being perfectly agreeable with you.” I set the suitcases on the ground and close the back.

“Staying out of my arguments with my father is the same as agreeing with him in his eyes. He thinks if you agree with me, you’d say as much. So feel free to say as much. ”

“And risk him kicking me out of his golfing foursome this summer?”

Blair leads the way to the front door, flipping her long, blond hair over her shoulder along with a scowl for me as her rhinestone flip-flops scuff against the pavers.

I laugh. My fiancée is fiery and sexy as hell, but around her dad, she’s a nuclear warhead.

“Who’s that?” She stops a few feet from the front door, slides her sunglasses down her nose, and glances to the right.

A woman in a yellow dress and white apron, armed with pruning shears, snips pink roses and deposits them into a small bucket. She sets the shears on the ground and squints at the clouds while adjusting her silky, auburn ponytail.

“How would I know?” I ask.

Blair drops her hand from her forehead and opens the door for me.

“Darling,” Vera coos, opening her arms to Blair.

“Hi, Mother.”

“How was the drive?” Vera asks.

I release the suitcases to hug her. “It was fine, thanks. Where’s Hunter?”

Blair scowls at me for asking, and I smirk.

“He’s in his study,” Vera says. “Get unpacked and settled. I’ll see if lunch is about ready.”

“Who’s the woman out front?” Blair asks, finger-combing her hair in the entry mirror. She added a few dark purple streaks before we left California just to piss off her father.

“Our house manager.”

“A house manager?” Blair scoffs. “A maid?”

“No.” Vera fiddles with her diamond ring. “Rayne still comes once a week to perform a deep clean. We hired someone to take care of more mundane tasks like preparing meals and gardening.”

“I thought you did that.” Blair wrinkles her nose.

“I did, but not very well. I’m not domesticated enough for your father’s liking, so we thought hiring a house manager would ease the tension around here.”

Vera isn’t the nervous type, but she seems off. I don’t know her well enough to pinpoint anything beyond just … off . She won’t look at Blair or me for more than a few seconds.

“Well, let’s get unpacked,” I say to Blair, carrying the suitcases toward the guest room on the main floor that used to be the primary suite until they converted most of the second floor to the new one.

It doesn’t have the lake view of the new space, but it’s on the opposite side of the house, which means we won’t spend the summer wondering if her parents hear us having sex.

“Do you think my mother’s acting weird?” Blair asks, carrying a pile of clothes from her suitcase to the closet.

“Do you think she’s sick? Jesus, what if she has cancer but doesn’t want to say anything until after the wedding?

What if the house manager is actually the woman she’s chosen to replace her after she dies? ”

“What?” I laugh. “I think you’re jumping to conclusions way too quickly. Maybe she wants to pacify him and his needs without sacrificing her free time by doing all the domestic things he expects.”

Blair pokes her head around the corner. “You know as well as I do that my mother has always done what she wants, regardless of my father’s opinion.”

I shrug, unpacking my jeans. “You’re right. Let’s just say what we’re both thinking.”

“What’s that?” Blair calls from the closet.

“Polygamy.”

“Stop.” She snorts.

“Sex therapist?”

“Murphy!” Blair continues to giggle.

“What’s all the ruckus?” Vera asks, standing in the doorway.

“Sorry. Your daughter has a wild imagination.”

Vera peeks her head around the corner into the closet. “Well, lunch is ready.”

“We’ll be right there,” I say as she turns to leave the room.

“You’re nothing but trouble, Murphy Paddon.” Blair wraps her arms around my waist.

“That’s why you love me.” I kiss the top of her head.

She lifts her chin to kiss my neck. “I love you because I’m the best version of myself with you. Come on.” She clutches my hand and leads me to the dining room.

“Kids,” Hunter says while standing from his chair at the end of the oval dining room table. “Welcome home.”

“Father,” Blair replies in a begrudging tone before hugging him.

“Mr. Morrison,” I hold out my hand .

After releasing Blair, he shakes it. “The engagement is still on, huh? I’m impressed, young man,” he says as a jab to Blair because this is the third time she’s been engaged, but she has yet to make it to the altar.

I’m either delusional or the most confident man alive for hoping the third time’s a charm.

“It’s a miracle that she puts up with me.” I smile at my fiancée, earning bonus points for “taking her side.”

“Tuesday, we meet with the wedding planner,” Vera announces, sitting at the opposite end of the table as Hunter while I pull out Blair’s chair for her.

“That looks amazing,” Vera says when her house manager carries a tray of food to the table.

“Alice, this is our daughter, Blair, and her fiancé, Murphy. Kids, meet our homemaker,” Hunter says.

Blair’s head whips in his direction. “Homemaker?”

Vera clears her throat. “House manager.”

“Dear, you’re the only manager,” Hunter responds with a side-eye, daring her to dispute it.

“Your mom got her for me. An early birthday present. I think it went something like, ‘If you want a homemaker, then perhaps I should hire you one.’ So I said, ‘Sounds good to me.’” Hunter shrugs with a triumphant grin.

Now I know why Vera was nervous about Blair questioning the new help.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Alice says, setting the tray onto the table.

I lift my head, getting a good look at her because not only is her name triggering, her voice is so familiar it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

Jesus …

“Chicken and wild rice lettuce wraps. I’ll be right back with the rosemary sourdough rolls,” she says.

“Your homemaker bakes bread?” Blair murmurs.

Just as Alice turns to walk toward the kitchen, our gazes meet, and her steps slow, but her smile doesn’t falter, like something that Blair would carve and cook in a kiln.

I know her.