Such Great Heights - Sydney Logan Page 0,2
I slowly step off the elevator and hesitantly ring the bell. I take a deep breath just as the door opens, and I’m greeted by a woman with big brown eyes and soft gray hair. She’s wearing a maid’s uniform, all pressed and tidy.
“Good morning,” she says kindly. “You must be Miss Stuart.”
“Olivia, please.”
She smiles warmly. “Olivia. Won’t you come in? My name’s Hazel. It’s so nice to meet you. May I take your suitcase?”
“No, that’s okay.”
Hazel’s smile fades.
“I’m sorry. I’m just not used to . . . someone taking my suitcase.”
Her brown eyes crinkle as she laughs. “I completely understand. I imagine all this will take some getting used to. I’m still getting used to it, and I’ve been with Mr. Healey for thirty years.”
Thirty years?
“I’ll give you the grand tour later. Would you like to see your room before you meet the boys?”
“That’d be great. Thank you, Hazel.”
She smiles sweetly at me and leads me through the living room. The first thing I notice is the artwork. Large framed paintings hang on pristine white walls. That’s all I have the chance to see before Hazel points me down a long hallway, filled with even more artwork. I assume these are the bedrooms, but it’s hard to tell because every door is closed. I wonder if that’s because Mr. Healey likes his privacy or because the house is symbolic of their moods.
Closed-off. Cold. Unwelcoming.
Except for Hazel, of course.
“Here you are,” she says, waving me inside.
My new bedroom is bigger than my apartment’s living room and kitchen . . . combined. The bed is covered with a beautiful black and white chevron bedspread. Otherwise, the room is completely bare, except for the black bedside table, lamp, and dresser.
Oh, and the giant flat screen.
Nice.
“I'll let you get settled. You'll let me know if you need anything at all? I’m happy to help you unpack if you need it, but I get the feeling you might like some time to yourself. I know this is probably a little overwhelming. Just let me know if you need me.”
“I will, Hazel. Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure, Olivia.”
With a warm smile, she closes the door behind her.
I roll my suitcase over to the massive walk-in closet. In truth, I really don’t have much to unpack since I’d only brought enough clothes to last the week. While Dana’s confident in our arrangement, Mr. Healey insisted I only bring the essentials for now . . . just in case it doesn’t work out.
I can’t blame him for being cautious. After all, his son has already scared off four other nannies.
According to Dana, the first two girls had each lasted about a month. Deciding gender was the problem, Mr. Healey then hired a couple of male college students who majored in everything from child psychology to mechanical engineering. Josh, the last nanny, survived the longest. On his final afternoon of employment, he had picked up Ryder from summer camp. As they pulled out onto the highway, Ryder decided to call shotgun. The boy climbed out of his booster chair and into the passenger seat right next to Josh.
The nanny was fine with it. The state trooper was not.
Josh showed Mr. Healey the ticket.
Mr. Healey showed Josh the door.
I’ve just finished unpacking when I hear a knock. I nervously reach for the knob and breathe a heavy sigh of relief when I find Hazel on the other side.
“If you’re ready, Jackson would like to meet you before introducing you to Ryder.”
“Okay.”
My hands begin to tremble. I hurriedly stuff them in my pockets.
Hazel’s eyes fill with sympathy for me.
“I’d tell you not to be nervous, but really, who are we kidding? You have every right to be.”
Comforting.
There’s a mirror hanging on the wall right next to the door. Anxiously, I smooth a strand of my hair into place.
“Hazel, do I look okay?”
I’d chosen a nice cranberry blouse and black slacks to wear today. A dress or skirt seemed too formal at the time, but now I’m wondering if maybe I should’ve dressed up a little.
“Oh, you look lovely, Olivia.”
“Thanks. I wasn’t sure what to wear.”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t wear anything expensive—not until we see how Ryder behaves at dinner.”
I fidget with my blouse.
“Olivia, I promise casual dress is fine. Unless of course, there’s a function or dinner party.”
Dinner party? What kind of function?
“Ready?”
No. But I nod anyway.
“Jackson’s in his study. I’ll show you the way.”
After taking one last look in the mirror, I follow her down the hall and back through