overcome.
***
I hate her.
I know that’s wrong on so many levels, but only three minutes after meeting Alison Norris, I’m leaning toward a strong dislike.
No, there’s nothing wrong with her, per se. Her resume is flawless. She wears a bright, eager smile, and coos at Oliver as if he hung the moon, without getting into that baby-talk bullshit. She’s professional and gives off a Mary Poppins vibe almost immediately.
She’d be perfect.
For Oliver.
For Mack.
And that’s why I hate her.
“So, just to confirm, you don’t mind the travel, and the thought of sleeping in a bunk in a camper doesn’t freak you out?”
Alison giggles, but not in that annoying way. Dammit. “My family used to camp every summer four to five times a year, and I shared a single cabin tent with three siblings. I’m not worried about that. And you said I have a little privacy in the bunk, which is nice. I don’t want to impede on Mack or his alone time with Oliver,” she insists.
I look back down at the résumé in my hand, though I’ve already been over it a million times. I called her references over the weekend, and they all gave glowing reviews, especially the family she took care of all last year until they relocated out of state. A lump forms in my throat with realization this is the right step for Oliver.
“Well, if you have a little bit of time, I’d like you to meet Mack. He’s in the garage shop.”
“I’d appreciate the opportunity to meet with him. He can ask me any questions he wants,” Alison replies, standing up from the couch and smoothing out invisible wrinkles in her knee-length skirt.
I scoop Oliver up out of the swing and head for the back door. Alison is behind me and smiles up at the sun when we step outside. I lead her to the large garage, the shop out back. Mack is wearing a pair of well-worn jeans that hug his ass beautifully, but when I look back at Alison, she doesn’t seem to notice.
Huh.
Maybe she’s okay after all.
We step through the open door, a classic country radio station playing from the stereo on the bench. Mack is leaning over his old truck engine, tinkering with something. “Hey, Mack?”
When his eyes meet mine, they brighten with his smile. He glances to my side and sees Alison, his grin faltering just a bit. “Oh, hey,” he says, grabbing a rag and wiping off his hands.
“This is Alison Norris,” I say cheerfully, my own cheeks starting to hurt from my too-wide grin. “Alison, this is Mack Cruz.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Cruz,” Alison says, stepping forward and extending her hand. There’s not an ounce of flirting in her voice, which I find odd. I mean, I’ve seen grown, married women drool and practically pass out at the opportunity to meet him, so that’s why her response is so strange.
Professional.
“Likewise, and it’s Mack,” he says, placing his hand in hers and giving it a gentle shake. He slips a quick look my way. “How’d it go?”
“Very well. Alison comes highly recommended,” I tell him, the burn of what I’m about to say moving up my throat like acid. “I think she’d make a wonderful nanny for Oliver.”
I want to cry.
“Really?” Alison asks, overcome with elation. “I’m so honored you’d choose me. I know the agency has a ton of qualified individuals. I’m grateful to have this opportunity,” she says to me, reaching out her manicured hand. When I place my palm against hers and glance down, I see a smear of grease on her thumb.
The sight sends that acid back down my throat, settling in my stomach like a pit of lava.
“Mack can discuss the terms of your employment with you,” I find myself saying, as if on autopilot. I end up walking away, taking Oliver back outside. The sky is overcast, a gray haze of humidity and warmth, much like my sudden mood.
Eventually, when they step out of the garage, Alison’s laughter fills the air like nails on a chalkboard as she listens to whatever Mack is saying. They shake hands and part ways, her heading back toward me. “He’s so great,” she says when she reaches my side.
Swallowing I reply, “He is.”
“I’m so anxious to start. The agency will send over the paperwork tomorrow via email. He invited me to come along with you to this weekend’s race.”
“He did?” I ask, my heart leaping into my throat.
She nods. “Mack said no better time to get started