teacher."
I made a show of looking toward the back seat. "You see any kids in the back?"
"No. But there will be. And that kid'll be your sister. Oh sure, she'll say those words eventually. Maybe she already does. But she won't be hearing them from me."
Man, I liked this girl.
Too fucking much.
In Cami's pocket, her cell phone chimed again, interrupting our conversation. This wasn't a bad thing, because the more she talked, the more I liked her – and not as a nanny either.
Shit. Maybe I should turn the car around.
Instead, I glanced toward her pocket. "You gonna get that?"
"No. It's just Livia. I'll call her back later."
"Livia – the friend from last night?"
"Yup." Cami blew out a long, shaky breath. "And I know why she's calling."
"Oh yeah? Why?"
"To chew me out."
If that was true, I didn't like it. In a careful voice, I said, "For what?"
"For you, actually."
"Me?"
"Yeah. She was really insulted, I could tell."
"Good," I said.
"But why is that good?"
"Because I meant to insult her."
"Why?"
"Because she had it coming. And you damn well know it."
Cami sank lower in her seat. "Maybe."
I reached toward her and held out my hand, palm up. "If you want, I'll answer."
She glanced down at my hand. "Oh, stop it. You wouldn’t."
I kept my hand in place. "Wanna bet?"
"Alright, scratch that," she said. "You probably would. And that's not a good thing."
"Why not?"
"Because you'd probably say something totally rude."
"Got that right."
Cami shook her head. "You're not getting it."
I returned my hand to the steering wheel. "Hey, don't say I didn't offer."
"I wasn't talking about the phone," she said. "I mean you're not getting the gist of what I'm saying."
"Which is…?"
"That Livia and I have been friends for a long time. Yeah, we don't always see eye to eye. And I know she can be a bit…well, difficult, I guess. But there's a lot of good history there, too."
Now this I had to hear. "Like what?"
"Well…in grade school, we were best friends." Cami lifted her hands and made little air quotes. "BFF's and all that."
"Best friends forever, huh? How'd that work out?"
"Fine. Mostly. And maybe she didn't stay my very best friend. But in college, we roomed together my freshman year."
I recalled what I'd seen on the background check. "At Michigan State, right?"
"Right," Cami said. "And she was a good roommate. And a good friend. Well, most of the time, anyway."
"She couldn’t have been too good," I said, "if you only roomed with her the one year."
"Yeah, but that wasn't her fault," Cami said. "I didn't go back after my freshman year." She hesitated. "Well, not until a whole year later."
"Why the gap?" I asked.
"Well…Mom got sick, and I'm one of five kids. Three of them are younger, so I figured I'd take a year off, to help out at home, you know?"
Silently, I considered what she was telling me. I'd met the mom earlier today. She seemed like a nice lady – and perfectly healthy, too. I asked, "How sick was she?"
"At the time, we didn't quite know." Cami bit her lip. "Breast cancer." A note of worry crept into her voice. "Now that's a c-word."
I didn't like to see her worried. More softly, I said, "But she's okay now?"
"Oh yeah," Cami said. "But we didn't know it at the time, so…" She shrugged. "Anyway, it all turned out in the end."
"Good." And I meant it, too. From what I'd gathered, Cami had come from a decent family, the kind where the parents actually gave a rat's ass about their kids.
It was a long way from my own family history.
But if things worked out, the better dynamics of Cami's family just might rub off on my own household.
And soon, they did.
This should've have been a good thing. And it was, especially for Willow. But the longer Cami stayed at my house, the more I wasn't so sure about the rest of it.
Cami might be good for Willow. But as the days turned into weeks, one thing became pretty damn obvious.
She wasn't good for me.
Chapter 14
Cami
I was there for only a month when I started to seriously wonder if I'd made the right decision.
Things were going well. Almost too well.
I absolutely adored Willow. She was eight years old and had just started the second grade. She'd spent much of the summer going to a local day-school, where she'd gotten a good head start for the regular school year.
Or more likely, she was simply that smart – much like her older brother.
My boss.
My nemesis.
My growing obsession.
I