Angel lifted a turquoise silk shirt and held it up to her chest. “Does this bring out my eyes?” She’d come into town for a meeting at Landon’s behest, and somewhere between the plane ride and a cab, managed to convince herself that Kimber—who had no experience with children whatsoever—should be in charge of her nephew.
Kimber took the top out of Angel’s hands and hung it back up. “You know it does.”
Angel rolled her eyes. “Anyway, it’s not babysitting. It’s a nanny position.”
“Oh, that’s so different.” She turned to walk away.
“It is!” Angel followed. “Nannies are sophisticated.”
And now her friend was reaching. Kimber plopped down onto the goldenrod, button-top ottoman at the rear of the store. Angel stood over her, hands on her narrow hips, the Downey look of determination lighting her blue eyes.
Kimber would have to give her a reason. Angel was terrier-with-a-chew-toy tenacious. And a little rabid when challenged. “I can’t leave Hobo Chic for an entire week.” Which was so not the issue. The issue was her… with a kid. A kid she didn’t know. That’s not the issue, either. It wasn’t. Not by a long shot.
Her friend elevated her arms and did a neat little turn. “You’re telling me none of your employees can handle this place while you’re gone? What do they do when you have a day off? What did they do when you came to visit me in Tennessee last month?”
“That was different.”
“How?”
Kimber shook her head rather than fib again. Neil or Ginny, even Mick, could handle this ghost town in her stead. Right now, across the street, Jilly’s bakery and the restaurant next door teemed with customers. While she sat here in an empty shop and tried to use her powers of telekinesis to move customers from the food shops to her store. Maybe she should start offering a free pastry with every purchase.
“He’ll pay you whatever you want.” Angel knelt in front of Kimber, her eyes doughy.
“I don’t need the money.” Angel had mentioned a dollar amount right after she suggested the position. An amount that had caused Kimber’s knees to buckle. True, Kimber may not need the money, but she sure could use it. To fund Operation “Get My Ex-Boyfriend and Co-owner of My Store Out of My Life For Good.”
Removing Mick’s name from the lease was a huge, huge motivator. But she also had her pride. “I’m an only child,” she said. “I have had zero experience with siblings or babies or children of my own. Do you want to entrust your only nephew with someone who has never changed a diaper?”
Angel laughed the next two words. “He’s six. And well out of diapers.”
“See?” She stood and paced to the other side of the store where she straightened a rack that didn’t need straightening. “I should have known that.” She slid a hanger into another with a shink sound. “More proof I’m unqualified.”
“You knew that!” Angel stopped the next hanger with her palm, her eyes boring into Kimber’s skull. A human lie detector, her friend.
“I know.” Kimber crossed her arms. “I just… feel uncomfortable.”
She waved her off. “My nephew is a doll face. Like me.” Angel batted her eyelashes.
“You know I know you’re not really an angel, right?”
A loud, awkward cough sounded from the other side of the store. Angel’s eyes flicked over her shoulder where her husband Richie stood, arms braced around his body, looking decidedly uncomfortable. At his side was Mick, who was texting and doing his level best to completely ignore him. Mick. What a jackass.
“They seem to be hitting it off,” Angel said dryly. “Need I remind you why you’d like to speed up the process of getting Mick out of here?”
She didn’t. Every day got harder than the last. But that didn’t change the other potentially bigger issue Kimber was worried about. “I’m not opposed to being Lyon’s babysit—” At Angel’s stern glare, she corrected herself, “Nanny.”
Kimber could get through her discomfort, figure out how to handle a six-year-old. The main problem with this whole scenario was that Angel had said this was a “live-in” situation. And Kimber couldn’t fathom a world where she might live under the same roof as Landon “Sexy Pants” Downey. Unless it was a fantasy world of her making.
Granted, she was a far cry from the teenager who had a mouth full of metal and a nervous hyena laugh, but Landon was awfully… GQ. She picked a piece of lint off her secondhand capris and avoided Angel’s scrutinizing gaze. Kimber wouldn’t even know how to behave around him.