29. Valerie

29

VALERIE

“I don’t get it.” Andy looks between me and Carter. A line creases the tiny space between his eyes. “We see Valerie every day.”

“Yes,” Carter agrees. “That’s true.”

“Then what do you mean when you say ‘you’re seeing her’?”

I pinch my lips together to hold back my chuckle.

Amusement flickers in Carter’s gaze when he meets mine before returning his attention to the other side of the dining room table where Abby and Andy sit, watching us. “I mean that Valerie and I are dating. Or, I mean…” He pauses and frowns. “We’re dating as long as you two are okay with it.”

He means it.

And the fact Carter would put his children’s happiness in front of his own makes me fall for him a little harder.

Understanding dawns and Andy’s face lights up in excitement. “What? Really? Valerie is your girlfriend?”

Carter glances at me once more. Affection flickers in his expression. “Yeah, she is.”

“That’s awesome!” The six-year-old punches a hand in the air but then frowns. “Wait… does this mean she’s not our nanny anymore?” Worried brown eyes find mine, and my heart squeezes with affection for the little boy.

“I’m still your nanny,” I reassure him.

He sighs. “Oh, good. I’d rather you be our nanny than Dad’s girlfriend.”

I chuckle. So does Carter.

I look at Abby and my amusement fades when I take in her expression. “Abby?”

The little girl stares at the table in front of her. Her arms are crossed. She doesn’t respond.

My heart drops.

“Abby?” Carter says. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

She lifts her gaze to her dad. Her lips are turned down in a frown. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine,” he contradicts gently.

She shifts in her seat before glancing at me. “Well… I am.”

That’s obviously not true.

“It’s okay to say what you’re really feeling,” I tell her. I know all too well what it feels like to hold back your thoughts to appease someone else. I’ve done it my entire life with my mom. That’s why I’ve spent the last week dodging her calls. I’ve only replied to her texts to say I’ll call when I feel like talking.

But rather than respect my boundary, Mom opted to text me back over a dozen times to criticize my choice to “isolate her” and “leave her in the dark while her friends are asking for details about my relationship”. Which is why I choose to ignore her rather than face her.

I’m not strong enough to stand up for myself when faced with her criticisms.

And I don’t want Abby to fall into the same habit.

But the little girl looks at me skeptically. She doesn’t believe there won’t be consequences for being honest.

Carter speaks up, “It’s okay, Abby. Tell us what you’re thinking.”

Her little forehead furrows. Finally, she says, “I don’t want you to date Valerie.”

Disappointment is swift and fierce, but I conceal those emotions so Abby and Andy don’t notice.

Carter does the same. His features are neutral as he asks, “Can you tell me why?”

She hesitates, but I’m proud of her when she lifts her chin and says, “I don’t like Mom’s boyfriend."

My pride is replaced with confusion.

“What does Mom’s boyfriend have to do with me dating Valerie?”

Abby’s eyes focus on the table once more. “Mom never spends time with us now that she’s dating Nathan. I don’t want you to stop spending time with us, too.”

The pain in her voice makes my heart ache, and my throat clogs with emotion. Abby Jones is a strong and confident little girl. It breaks my heart to think of those traits being overshadowed by her perceived abandonment by her mother. And the fact that she’s afraid her father will do the same.

"I will never stop spending time with you," Carter declares with conviction. He stands and rounds the table to kneel at his daughter’s side. “I will never do that,” he repeats, looking between his daughter and his son seated beside her. “I promise.”

“Mom said the same thing,” Andy adds solemnly. His sister’s lack of enthusiasm about us dating has understandably dulled his own.

Carter grinds his teeth before calmly saying, “I am not your mom.”

His words hang heavy in the air—too heavy for six-year-olds. Maybe Carter and I were wrong to tell them about our relationship.

They aren’t on social media.

We could have eased them into us dating over time rather than blurting it out after a meal of fried chicken and mashed potatoes. It’s only been a week since the story broke. We could’ve waited.

Andy pats his sister’s arm. “Come on, Abby. You like Valerie. It’s cool that Dad likes her too.”

“Andy,” I interrupt gently. “Abby’s allowed to have her feelings.”

“But I do like you,” Abby tells me. Concern fills her expression. She’s worried about hurting my feelings.

I’m quick to reassure her. “I know you do. And I like you and Andy, too.” I smile at both of them in turn. “I also like your dad, but he means what he said. We won’t date if it bothers you.” It may be one of the most difficult things I’ll ever have to do, but I would walk away from Carter Jones if it’s what his kids needed.

From the corner of my eye, I notice Carter stiffen. He won’t disagree with me, but I know this conversation is not going the way he wanted.

Abby’s eyes widen with alarm. “Are you going to break up with my dad?”

I look at Carter.

His attention remains on his daughter. “Is that what you want?”

“No,” she admits, her head falling forward. Her bottom lip begins to tremble. “I-I just don’t want you to forget about us.”

Equal parts relief and sadness flood my body.

Carter opens his arms and his daughter falls into his chest. Quiet tears roll down her cheeks as he strokes her back and reassures her over and over again that he’s not going to ever forget her. Andy scoots off his chair and walks to the other side of his dad. Carter draws him in to join the hug.

For a moment, I watch the family of three. A host of emotions swirl in my chest.

Andy and Abby have experienced so much heartache and disappointment in their young lives, and I am so grateful that they found their way to living with their dad. I know he will look out for them and help repair the damage caused by their mother’s actions.

Just like my dad did with me.

Not wanting to intrude on this moment, I quietly scoot my chair back and leave the dining room. I make it halfway to my bedroom before I realize I don’t want to be cooped up in my room.

I’ve been avoiding spending too much time in the common areas of the house this week. I thought it would be good to have some distance from Carter when the kids are around since we didn’t want them to figure out anything was going on between us.

But now, the idea of secluding myself makes me feel claustrophobic, but I don’t want to be an interloper while Carter and the twins work through their feelings.

A run sounds like the perfect solution.

Ignoring the fact I’m still full from dinner, I change into my running gear and make my way out the door. I text Carter my plans before tucking my phone into my arm sleeve for the run. He’d call for a search party if I left the house without saying a word.

Gravel crunches under my feet as I take off in a light jog. I turn right when I reach the end of the driveway, choosing to forego headphones for this run. Instead, I let the sounds of nature accompany the beat of my shoes slapping against the street.

Running usually helps me clear my mind, but not tonight. Tonight, just like every night this week, I think about all that’s changed in my life and wonder how I’m going to handle what’s to come.

I may have faced my dad, but I’m still avoiding my mother. That hasn’t stopped her from leaving texts and voicemails telling me of her disappointment. Or how she thinks I’m being impulsive. How I’m ruining my life. Etcetera. Etcetera.

Unlike with Dad, her disapproval doesn’t hurt. But it still stings that she hasn’t even bothered to ask if I’m okay before tearing into me for what she perceives as a stupid decision. She won’t care that Carter and I met before I became his nanny—that neither of us had been able to forget the connection we felt under that Caribbean night sky. That he gets me like no man ever has, and I can’t imagine not giving us this chance to be together.

No. I scoff. Mom doesn’t give a damn about my happiness. Just how my actions make her look.

I pick up my pace. Not enough to leave me winded, but enough to get my heart rate up. Hopefully, a dose of endorphins will help alleviate the irritation I feel when thinking about my mother.

The sun dips low in the sky, casting the world into hues of pink and red. Rose Hill is a beautiful town. It’s peaceful. Much more peaceful than any place I’ve ever lived.

My thoughts finally quiet to a low hum in the back of my head. I inhale the fresh air, letting it clear away my negativity. For now, at least.

I reach the fork in the road and once again turn right. This road is two lanes and would take me to the center of town if I didn’t veer off at the curve half a mile ahead that leads back to Carter’s house. There’s never much traffic out here, just the odd Rose Hill resident coming back from an errand in the nearest town three miles south. Still, I remind myself to be vigilant as I run along the edge of the road.

I’m halfway to the curve when the phone pressed against my arm buzzes and rings with an incoming call. Expecting it to be my mother, I lift my opposite hand as I look down, prepared to hit the decline button, when I see it’s not my mom.

My forehead creases. Slowing my pace, I hit accept and the button to turn on speakerphone. “Hello?”

“Hi, is Valerie Palmer there?”

“Speaking.”

“Hey, Valerie. I’m not sure if you remember me, but this is Will Wright. We went to high school together.”

I slow my pace further. “Of course, I remember you, Will.” He and I shared several advanced classes in school, but we weren’t what I’d call friends. We were more like acquaintances, but we were friendly enough. I only have his number because we were partners on a government project senior year.

“Oh, good. I wasn’t sure this was your number anymore.”

“I thought the same when your name showed up on my screen,” I offer with a chuckle. “How are you?”

“I’m good. What about you?”

I slow to a brisk walk. What are the chances Will knows about me and Carter? Plenty of my high school friends have messaged me about the news. Will likely knows at least someone who heard about my relationship with the star linebacker. But on the off chance he doesn’t, I decide not to bring it up.

“I’m doing well. What have you been up to all these years?”

For a couple of minutes, Will and I politely update each other on our lives.

I learn he went to Stanford which isn’t surprising. I remember how hardworking and smart he was in school. He tells me he moved back to Texas while searching for a job, but he’s going to move back to California to work at a startup with one of his college buddies.

“I just figured if no one is hiring right now, I might as well take a risk and see if Henry and I can make something of ourselves.”

“That’s exciting.” And bold. It’s no small thing to take a chance on yourself when the rest of the world tells you to play it safe. “I hope it works out for you.”

“Thanks, me too.”

I reach the curve that leads to Carter’s house. The sun has almost completely dipped behind the horizon. I didn’t bring my reflective gear because I thought I’d be back by now.

I remove my phone from the arm holder and turn on my flashlight as a precaution. I should still be easy to see, but in case that changes, I hope the light will alert them to my presence.

Will clears his throat. “Well, I’m sure you’re wondering about why I called you after all the years.”

I laugh. “A little bit, yeah.”

“Well, I was in Houston last weekend and I ran into Megan. She told me you recently quit your job as an accountant.”

“Oh.” I’m not sure what else my best friend told him, but I’m sure it wasn’t anything too private. Still, it’s never a great feeling to know people are talking about you and you don’t know what they’re saying.

“Yeah, and I was wondering… are you interested in a job?”

I stop in my tracks. “A job?”

“Yeah.” Will clears his throat and begins what’s, clearly, a rehearsed speech, “Henry and I aim to have young professionals join our startup who all have some connection to us or one another. We want to create a positive work culture where we all lift each other up to help the company succeed. I know you worked for one of the big four firms in Houston, and I know you’d make a great asset to our team if you decided to take a chance and work for us.”

My mouth falls open. I snap it closed and swallow down my shock. “Wow. That’s… wow. I’m flattered.”

“I’m sure you need more information and time to think about it,” Will says. “But if you don’t mind me asking, what are your initial thoughts?”

My initial thoughts?

Taken aback.

Intrigued.

And worried.

When I quit my job all those months ago, I told myself I would branch out of my comfort zone. I refused to fall into another demanding accounting job just for the sake of having a job.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “This kind of caught me off guard.”

“That’s understandable.”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not interested. What can you tell me about your company?”

Will begins to explain how he and his friend have designed a performance platform intended to optimize supply chain services for technology companies and their customers.

I do my best to focus on the unfamiliar terminology, but I have to admit I’m a bit lost.

The rumble of an engine distracts me further. I look over my shoulder and take two large steps into the grass along the road as the black pickup truck steers left to drive on the side of the road farthest from me.

The older man behind the wheel acknowledges me with a wave as he passes. I step back onto the road to avoid stepping into anything unsavory.

“—the process is innovative, and we already have an in with one of the biggest computer manufacturers in the country. Henry and I just need to finalize our pitch, onboard essential employees, and then we will be ready to roll,” Will finishes his spiel. It’s easy to hear his excitement.

“That sounds incredible, and you seem to have a solid business plan.”

“I have my sister to thank for that. Do you remember Elise?”

“Of course, I remember Elise.” Will’s sister is two years older than us, but everyone at our high school knew the Class President and Homecoming Queen. “How is she doing?”

“Great. She has an MBA from SMU and she’s agreed to lend us her expertise and help us get our company off the ground.”

“That’s great. Do you have a name for the company yet?”

The roar of another engine drowns out Will’s reply. It sounds like it comes from a fancy sports car.

I frown and turn around, stepping off the main road, wondering who in their right mind would be driving so fast down this country road filled with winding curves and blind spots.

A bright red car appears around the bend half a mile back. It approaches quickly, clearly speeding.

I move farther into the grass. “Sorry, Will. What did you say?”

“Our name is to be determined, but we’re running preliminary surveys and also confirming trademarks and domain names can be obtained on a few options.”

“That makes sense.”

The roaring car continues its approach.

I scowl at the vehicle, but that scowl swiftly turns to fear when I notice it swerving from side to side on the two-lane road.

I back up and keep my eyes on the erratic vehicle.

“Do you think you’d be willing to sit down to discuss the job?” Will asks.

I continue to watch the car as I debate my answer to his question.

I’m committed to being Carter’s nanny through the season. The Rough Riders will make it to the playoffs, but even if they go to the Super Bowl, the season ends in February. I need to figure out what I’m going to do next sooner rather than later.

And while I’m pretty sure I don’t want to move to California, I told myself I’d be willing to take risks. There’s no harm in hearing Will out. Who knows? It could be the opportunity of a lifetime.

“I think I can do that,” I answer.

“That’s great.”

Tires screeching draw my gaze back to the sports car. I gasp, momentarily frozen as I see the red car drive into the grass. It’s heading straight for me.

“Valerie!” Will shouts through the earpiece. “Are you okay?”

His voice snaps me out of my daze and I make a run for the barbed wire fence that runs alongside the road. I slip through the fence, wincing when the sharp wire slices my back, but it’s better than being hit by a car.

I spin back around once I’m on the other side of the fence and see the red car swerve back onto the road before it hits the fence. The windows are tinted so dark I can’t make out the identity of the driver. But that doesn’t stop me from scowling fiercely at the driver’s side, mentally cursing the stranger with every colorful expletive I can think of.

“Valerie?” Will calls. Somehow, I managed to keep the phone gripped in my fist during my run. “Is everything okay?”

My chest heaves with rapid breaths, but I try to keep my voice even when I say, “Yeah. An idiot just ran me off the road.”

“Jesus. Are you hurt?”

“No.” The cuts on my back are nothing. It could’ve been so much worse.

I release the scowl scrunching my face and clear my throat, forgetting about the idiot who nearly killed me. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” He pauses for a second. “So… are you interested in working for me and Henry?”

I wouldn’t say I’m uninterested.

I need to figure out my next move eventually, and while I might not be willing to move to California, there’s never any harm in getting extra interview practice. But before I commit to an interview, I should know more about what I’m interviewing for.

“That depends.” I duck back under the barbed wire and continue walking down the road, back toward Carter’s. “Tell me more about this job.”