He’d only felt like that once before, and Jordan’s mention of college brought that back to him as if it was only last week. In college, he’d fallen in love with a woman who claimed to feel the same—until she didn’t. Hailey Tiverton. She’d broken up with him because they favored different desserts. How fucked up was that?
For a moment, he was there again, sitting in his car with a bouquet of flowers in hand, an apology ready, having his heart torn out of his chest and thrown back in his face. Hailey had left school without explanation, but he hadn’t needed one when he’d seen her in the arms of another man. He’d wanted to rush over and demand to know how long she’d been cheating on him, but he held back.
He hadn’t wanted to know.
Some questions were better left unanswered.
He’d learned then, and was recently reminded of, one of life’s simple truths: people can only hurt you if you care, so it’s better not to.
I don’t need Jordan to finish Chichén Itzá.
I don’t need the shitfest of drama that is presently my family.
I’m better off on my own.
Chapter Two
A few hours later, Hailey and Skye walked to the main house to meet with Delinda Westerly. It was a warm evening, so Hailey had chosen cotton dresses for them both. Skye seemed to understand the importance of making a good impression. She’d brushed out her hair and had her new book tucked to her side.
“I’ll keep the meeting as brief as I can,” Hailey promised. “You have your book. We’ll leave the door open. If you read you won’t even miss me. She’s expecting me to stay for dinner, but I’ll tell her I can’t.”
Skye nodded without meeting her eyes. Hailey raised her hand to ring the doorbell, but the door opened suddenly.
“Come in,” Michael said, holding the door open wide. “Mrs. Westerly is in the solarium waiting for you.” They entered the house, and then he closed the door behind them. “She’s looking forward to meeting you, Miss Skye. She asked me to send both of you in.”
Skye’s eyes widened.
“Oh, I thought—” Hailey stopped herself and looked down at her niece. “That’s very nice of her, isn’t it, Skye?”
As Hailey expected, Skye stepped closer to her and took hold of her arm. Six months ago, Hailey would have turned around and left with Skye, but she had to trust in the progress they’d made. Ryan would have said it was high time that both of them hid less. She laid her hand over Skye’s and said, “I like her already.”
Skye tipped her head in question.
“She made you a beautiful bedroom, gave you a thoughtful gift, and now has included you in our meeting.” Hailey tapped her nose lightly. “There is no surer way into my heart than to be kind to you.”
Skye’s smile lit up her eyes.
In that moment, Hailey would have promised to work for Mrs. Westerly for free. She cleared her throat and said, “We shouldn’t keep her waiting, should we?”
Still holding on to her arm, Skye walked with her into the solarium.
Although Hailey had nothing to base it on, she’d imagined Delinda Westerly as a tall woman, when in fact she was the opposite. She stood as they entered, and the top of her white curls came up to Hailey’s shoulders. What she did have, though, was a strong presence. Hailey felt as if she were visiting the queen.
There was an uncomfortable moment as the older woman looked her two guests over. “So you’re Hailey Tiverton.”
It was an odd greeting from a woman who had yet to smile. “Yes.” Hailey fought the urge to tuck Skye behind her. Instead, she said, “And this is my niece, Skye. Thank you so much for everything you’ve done to make us feel welcome. Her room is amazing. She absolutely loves the book.”
Mrs. Westerly bent until she was eye to eye with Skye. “Do you really like it? You can tell me if you don’t.”
Skye tensed beside Hailey.
“She doesn’t—” Hailey started to say “speak,” then stopped when Mrs. Westerly straightened.
“Doesn’t what? Doesn’t like it?”
Dry-mouthed and fearing it had been a mistake to mention it at all, Hailey said, “She doesn’t talk.”
The older woman showed very little reaction to the announcement. She bent again and addressed Skye. “You look like an intelligent young woman. One day soon, tell your aunt she needs to stop speaking for you.”
Hailey gasped audibly and was about to tell the older woman . . . well, she wasn’t sure what she would have said because, before she chose her words, she noticed Skye was no longer clutching her arm. Her niece wasn’t afraid of Mrs. Westerly. Her all-too-frequently hunched shoulders were squared and her chin was high.
Not sure what to think, Hailey watched the two of them size each other up.
Mrs. Westerly straightened. “You’ll do. Both of you.” She raised her voice ever so slightly. “Michael, bring in the tea, would you?” She returned to the chair she had been seated in when they’d arrived. “Come. Come. I sit more often than stand nowadays, and I prefer if those around me do the same.”
Michael rolled in a tray of tea, finger sandwiches, and small pastries. He uncovered a small plate. “And for Miss Skye, cookies fresh from Miss Jeanie’s oven. Where should I place them?”
Skye took the seat next to Mrs. Westerly and put the book beside her. She smoothed her dress and turned her hands upward to accept the plate.
Michael handed them to her, and Mrs. Westerly looked at Skye as if waiting for her to thank Michael, but Skye held her silence and looked away.
Michael poured tea for all of them, then faded out of the room. Hailey opened and closed her mouth a few times, rethinking what she was about to say before uttering a word. She cursed herself for not fully explaining Skye’s situation before arriving. She’d hoped to get to know her employer before introducing the two. I always think there will be more time. When will I learn? Life has its own schedule. “You have a beautiful home.”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Westerly said between sips of tea. “It used to be one of my favorite places, but now all the empty rooms make me sad.” She put her cup aside. “The job description focused on potential duties I may require, but this is mostly a companion position.”
The announcement took Hailey by surprise. “I see,” she said, although she had no idea what that would entail.
“Where does Skye attend school?” Mrs. Westerly asked.
“She’s homeschooled by a full-time teacher who thankfully has agreed to make the drive here.”
“One?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Westerly’s nose wrinkled. “I’ll need to meet this teacher of hers. Is he or she multilingual? Where did they graduate from?”
What is she doing? Hailey’s chest constricted. This is what I get for accepting the job in a rush. I should have come out to meet her in person first. I should have had this conversation before we moved in. I never considered that Mrs. Westerly would want to know so much about Skye.