Chapter 75
It was ten o’clock on a Thursday morning. Marisa, staving off a nasty summer cold, was at home with the girls and in desperate need of the latest novel by Charles Todd. “The Bookworm is holding a copy for me,” she had told Hayley. “Would it be an imposition for you to pick it up?”
Hayley smiled at the memory. Going to a bookstore an imposition? Still, it had been very nice of Marisa to ask. Hayley had gladly driven to downtown Yorktide, and while at the store she had rapidly browsed the used book section, finding a paperback copy of Kathryn Hughes’s biography of George Eliot for three dollars. Treasures paid for and in tow, Hayley stepped out onto the sidewalk and headed in the direction of the small parking lot behind the old-fashioned pharmacy.
“Hayley!”
Hayley stopped and turned. Striding toward her, his hand raised in a wave, was Ethan Whitby. He was wearing slouchy jeans and a white T-shirt. His auburn hair flopped over his forehead as he walked briskly along. His arms, she noted, were slim but muscular.
“Hi,” Hayley said when he had joined her. She liked the freckles along the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t know you were visiting.”
Ethan smiled. “It’s a surprise. I haven’t even been to the house yet. I hope Marisa doesn’t mind my popping in for a few days.”
“I’m sure she won’t,” Hayley told him. “And the girls will be happy to see you. So, what are you doing downtown?”
Ethan indicated the small paper shopping bag he was carrying. “I know Marisa is partial to the scones at Bread and Roses. What about you?”
“Bookstore run for Marisa. And I scored a biography of George Eliot for three dollars.”
“Excellent. Don’t you love when you stumble across just the gem you were hoping for?” Ethan asked.
Hayley laughed. “I do. But I should get back to the house. Marisa’s battling a cold and I don’t want to leave her tending to the girls too long.”
“I’ll walk you to your car, if that’s okay,” Ethan said.
“Of course,” Hayley replied. When, she thought, was the last time someone hadn’t simply assumed that she would be happy to accept his company? This family with whom she was to some extent sharing the summer was unlike any family she had ever known. For a brief moment, Hayley thought she might cry at the strangeness of it all.
“So,” Ethan said as they walked along, “is this the first time you’ve worked as a nanny?”
“Yes,” Hayley told him. “Though I’ve been babysitting since I was ten.”
“Do you know any of the other women—and men, I suppose—working as nannies in Yorktide?”
“I’ve met a few,” Hayley told him. “There’s a sort of informal network. My friend Amy is one of the group. She’s working for the Priors this summer. Cressida Prior of Prior Ascendancy.”
“I know who she is,” Ethan said with a frown. “Well, I don’t know her personally, but let’s just say that her reputation precedes her.”
“What do you mean?” Hayley asked.
Ethan hesitated a moment before going on. “She’s over-the-top self-involved. Some would say she’s a narcissist, and she can be pretty ruthless. I’ll give you an example,” Ethan said. “She poached a few key employees from one of my father’s friends, and she went about it in a particularly devious way. And along with buying the employees she bought their competitively valuable trade secrets. Dad’s friend suffered a fairly substantial business loss as a result.”
“Unethical but not illegal?” Hayley asked.
“As far as I know, yeah.” Ethan shook his head. “But maybe Cressida Prior is different on the domestic front. Maybe she’s all warmth and fair play.”
“I don’t think she is, not if what Amy has told me is true. And there’s more. Cressida calls Amy Aimee. She told Amy it sounded more sophisticated, and Amy didn’t protest.”
Ethan frowned. “A person’s name is so much a part of her identity. To have someone take it away isn’t right.”
“Amy doesn’t see it that way,” Hayley told him. “She was flattered. It was like she was suddenly dissatisfied with the name her mother had given her.”
“People like Cressida Prior have huge powers of persuasion,” Ethan said grimly, “and they use them to bully those around them.”
Hayley and Ethan arrived at the corner of Grove and Main Streets just as the light turned green for pedestrians. They had stepped into the street with the rest of the crowd when a midsized car came flying through the intersection against the light. Several people screamed. Ethan grabbed Hayley’s shoulders and pulled her back to the sidewalk. A child began to sob.
“My God,” Ethan muttered, releasing Hayley. “Are you all right?”
Hayley nodded. With a trembling hand, she reached for her cell phone and called 911. “Someone just ran a red light at the corner of Grove and Main in Yorktide,” she told the dispatcher, her voice shaking. She then spelled out what she had caught of the license plate number and described the car before ending the call.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Ethan asked quietly, running his hand gently down Hayley’s arm. “I hope I didn’t hurt you when I grabbed you.”
Hayley took a deep breath. “You didn’t hurt me,” she said. “And thank you.” Ethan might just have saved her life. She could still feel his strong hands on her shoulders and again thought that she might cry. Suddenly she realized that Ethan was looking at her intently. She could swear he wanted to kiss her. And if he did kiss her . . . “My car is right across the street,” she said suddenly, taking a step away from him. “I should be getting back.”
Ethan cleared his throat and nodded briskly. “Of course. I’ve got to get on, too. A friend of mine is staying at the Beachmere. We’re meeting for lunch.”
“Okay,” Hayley said, taking another step away. “And Ethan? Thank you again. For . . . for before.”
Hurriedly, Hayley crossed the street, opened her car door, and slid inside. Her hands trembled as they gripped the steering wheel. Something had just happened. Something serious. But it was not the kind of something that was supposed to happen. There had been a real connection between her and Ethan Whitby, there had been, she had felt it, but there couldn’t be! She couldn’t allow there to be. Emotions were dangerous. Love just messed everything up. Look at what had happened to her mother; her life had been blighted by romance. No, Hayley thought, she had to keep her wits about her and her heart locked firmly away if she was ever to succeed in her plan to—
Hayley’s hands slipped from the steering wheel. If she was ever to succeed in her plan to—to be safe.