Such Great Heights - Sydney Logan Page 0,3

the massive living room. Hazel stops, giving me the chance to get my first real look at my new home.

A gigantic television screen graces the far wall. Intricate works of art are scattered about, and oil paintings hang from the walls. There’s a grand piano resting in a corner, flanked by windows that lead out onto the terrace.

It’s a beautiful home—if you want to live in a museum.

“You look confused,” Hazel says.

“I was just wondering . . . does Ryder play? I don’t see any toys or . . . really any sign that a child lives here at all.”

“Natasha—I mean, Mrs. Healey—required that Ryder play in his room. And only in his room.”

Her tone is hushed and clipped. If the sour look on Hazel’s face is any indication, she’s not a fan of the wife, either.

As she leads me down a small hallway on the other side of the apartment, Hazel tells me that playtime wasn’t encouraged until Jackson came home from work. Even then, it was very structured—per Mrs. Healey’s orders.

“You call him Jackson?”

She stops in front of a set of closed double doors.

“Yes, but you should probably call him Mr. Healey unless he tells you otherwise.” Just before she knocks on the door, she turns to give me a wink. “I can get away with calling him by his name. I used to change his diapers.”

I laugh nervously.

“Ready?”

I take a deep breath and nod.

Hazel knocks on the door. We hear a muttered, “Come in,” before the two of us head inside.

The office is decorated with deep reds and golds. A leather sofa and chair rest on a large area rug in the center of the room, and the walls are lined with shelves full of books. A wide mahogany desk sits in front of the window.

And in the tall executive chair sits the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, wearing a suit and tie. With his dark hair, scruffy beard, and crystal blue eyes, I’m momentarily stunned by the realization that my best friend has such a gorgeous brother that I’ve never met.

Just another reason to kill her. The list is becoming long.

“Jackson, this is Olivia Stuart.”

Swallowing down my nervousness, I step closer to his desk and offer him my hand.

Big mistake. He’s even cuter up close.

Mr. Healey firmly shakes my hand. “Are you okay, Miss Stuart? You look a little flustered.”

Snap out of it, Olivia.

“I’m fine. And please, call me Olivia.”

“Please have a seat. You’ll meet Ryder shortly.”

I glance back at Hazel who’s trying hard to hide her smile. She gives me a thumbs-up before closing the door behind her.

“Thank you.” I take a seat across from him and try to get my nerves under control. I have to get it together before he questions Dana’s glowing recommendation. “And thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Healey. I look forward to doing everything I can to help you and your son.”

“Well, that would be refreshing. It would be especially refreshing if I hadn't heard the same promise from the other nannies.”

Crap.

“I understand the last few months have been a challenge.”

“A challenge. Yes, you could say that.” Mr. Healey stands and walks toward his window, gazing out at the Nashville skyline. “I don’t normally hire my sister’s friends for . . . well, any position. But Dana speaks very highly of you. You’re twenty-four years old and just graduated in May from Belmont?”

“That’s right.”

“And yet, you couldn’t manage to find a teaching job.”

My stomach flips.

“Not yet, no. There were too many applicants and not enough positions.”

“Hmm. Perhaps you didn’t try hard enough.”

Huh?

“There were nearly one thousand applicants in the Metro Nashville area, Mr. Healey.”

“Job candidates must find a way to set themselves apart. Make themselves invaluable to perspective employers. Maybe you weren't persuasive enough.”

Mr. Healey sits back down in his chair and gazes at me with his penetrating eyes. I’m just about to tell him he can take his nanny job and shove it when I realize that’s exactly what he wants. He’s testing me. After all, if I can’t handle the father, how will I ever deal with the son?

I smile tightly.

“Mr. Healey, I graduated Magna Cum Laude. I have impressive letters of recommendations from my advisors and professors—all of which I will happily share with you. I am a licensed teacher and overqualified to play nanny to your son, and yet, here I am, because I’m a hard worker, and I need a job. I would appreciate the chance to prove how invaluable I can be