Chapter 2

I didn't even mean to look at the ad. I wouldn't have if the bolded all caps URGENT text hadn't caught my eye as I lined Fergus's litter box.

Years later, I would look back at that moment as the one that changed my life.

URGENT.

Experienced nanny needed. Copious references necessary. Boy is three and extremely intelligent. Pay negotiable and competitive. Remit comprehensive resume to box 0809.

11 Lakeview Road.

Holy shit. Lakeview Road? As in one of the most hoity-toity streets in a town consisting of many of them?

I snatched the paper out of my cat's box. Fergus was standing beside me, waiting impatiently for a new change of litter, faintly grumbling from either disgust or his allergies, and I was stopping midway through to gape at an ad.

I had references, of course, but did I have a copious amount of them? Somehow I doubted it.

Honestly, I wasn't even sure how many that was. And my resume was fairly lengthy considering I'd been working since my mid-teens, but I wouldn't say it was comprehensive. Most of my jobs were on the lower end of the scale to boot.

Maybe I shouldn't even bother applying. I already felt like I was out of my league.

Clearly, I had to start listening to self-confidence podcasts or something, otherwise I was going to knock myself out of the running before I even tried.

Okay, time to look at the positives. I had several part-time jobs in the Cove and I was well-known to be reliable and a self-starter, but I had a feeling to be worthy of working in a house like that I needed a hell of a lot more qualifications.

Artificial intelligence could write term papers. Maybe I could get one to write an awesome resume too, so at least I could get my foot in the door. Then I'd stun Mr. Richie Rich with my childcare skills.

Hey, a girl could dream, right?

Kids loved me. Adored me, in fact. I seemed to relate to them on their level or something.

I grabbed my phone and called Reagan, my best friend. Who actually happened to be my niece. Handy thing, that.

"Read the ad to me again," she instructed. "Slowly."

I did as she requested.

"I think it's sex trade-related." Her tone was matter-of-fact. "I just saw a Dateline special about this very thing."

I let out a groan. "Rea, it's not trafficking. I'm sure the paper vets stuff before they let it be printed." Actually, I had no clue on that score, but this ad very much felt like my diamond-like needle in a haystack. Being a nanny to a probably sweet little kid seemed like a job tailor made for me.

Something close to gruesome reality was not allowed to intrude. Not this time.

"Besides, the Cove is super safe," I went on when Reagan remained silent. "You know that already, and you're new in town. Plus, your dad would kill anyone who even looked at me funny."

Reagan's father, Christian, was my older brother and a senior officer on our local police force. Like my other oversized brothers, he was huge and burly and very intimidating, which was annoying when dating, but it came in handy if I wanted to convince someone that it wasn't a good idea to mess with me.

I also could take care of myself. I'd taken self-defense classes since a young age. If there was anything hinky about this ad, bring it on.

"Yeah, but if you go to this job interview and the guy sucks you into his web, you might never be heard from again. Then my dad can't save you if the trail instantly runs cold. You have to make sure you leave us many breadcrumbs to trace your location. By the way, how many references constitutes copious ?"

"I wondered the same." I bit my lip as I rubbed between Fergus's ears. Fuck it, I only had this one newspaper. I'd have to just tear out the corner with the ad. "Hey, write down this number, will you? Box 0809."

"Is this the killer's mailbox number?"

I had to laugh as I ripped out the corner of the paper with the ad and shoved it in my jeans pocket. "His inbox at the paper. There is no killer. I just needed the paper for the cat box."

" Hmmpf ."

"Seriously, I'm not sure investigative journalism is the best career for you. Maybe you should try something less…suspicious. Like elementary education? All those cute little kids smelling of jam."

"Kids like Jacob?"

Reagan's three-month-old little brother spent most of his time wailing, so maybe a small child wasn't the best example for her at this time.

"You gotta admit he's pretty damn cute. Kids in general are so much nicer than gritty news stories and less likely to give you nightmares."

She sighed heavily. "But I like investigative journalism. I like researching crime. Hell, you know I watch serial killer docs to unwind. Just don't tell my dad. He would make me go to therapy. You know he worries."

"He sure does. So, see, he'd appreciate a career change for you too. You're only starting your freshman year soon. You can still change your major. Freshman year is for expanding your options, remember?" I blew out a breath as Fergus sat his big furry behind in his empty box and gave me a pointed look. "Okay, okay. Just let me put this paper in and the litter and you can go. Jeez. Impatient much?"

Hurriedly, I nudged him aside and lined the box with the newspaper, and then I dumped in a healthy amount of litter. As soon as the last grain fell from my scoop, Fergus plopped his large behind in the box and started going to town digging. I made sure to get out of there quickly, so he could have his fun without pelting me with litter.

I rushed up the basement stairs to the first level and then kept going to the second floor and my bedroom. I was the only one of the Masterson kids who still lived at home—not that I wanted to, not one bit—so I'd taken over the biggest bedroom other than my parents' bedroom several years ago.

My four brothers had vacated the family homestead a while back so the place was pretty much mine—other than my parents, of course. And my parents were plenty.

Why I needed more money so I could get my own place. I even had a line on a perfect apartment right on Main Street in town. My soon-to-be sister-in-law Honey, Christian's future new wife, was going to sublet her apartment to me, which was a trick since she actually had been subletting it from her sister-in-law when Christian knocked her up.

"You sound miserable," Reagan informed me. "I think you need a vacation, not a new job. Especially one taking care of some rich, probably spoiled brat."

"You don't know that. Besides, he's three. How spoiled could he be at that small?"

And he probably smelled amazing post-bath. That was the wonder of little kids.

"I'd be afraid to find out. Better you than me, sister."

I rolled my eyes. She had a good point though. Especially since her bonus mom Honey's brother, Maverick, and his new wife, Vanessa, had recently had twins too, a boy, Henry, and a girl, Reign. Though those two were better-natured on average than Rea's new little brother, they were still fairly typical whiny children who needed diaper changes with alarming regularity.

Then again, my sister-in-law, Vee, also had a sweet, crawling, into-everything baby, Harmony. Cute, overall, but Vee and my older brother, Moose, could practically start their own elementary school at this point.

Oh, the joys of babyhood in the Cove. This place was dangerous, and not because of sex trade recruiters.

Not that I had any kind of sex life to speak of. I hadn't even kissed a guy since last winter when I'd foolishly thought myself in love with a local pizza delivery guy. Then I'd walked in on him with his hand up the shirt of one of the waitresses, and I'd lost my good feelings toward him entirely.

I let out a huge sigh. Yet another reason I figured taking care of kids was the closest I'd be getting to any of them anytime soon—my adorable relatives aside. And yes, I was just a teensy bit biased there.

Except when I had to change many diapers. Then my good feelings tended to flee.

"Are you finally done changing the cat box?" Rea demanded on the other end of the line.

Apparently, I had endless capacity for a cat's metaphorical dirty diaper, but far less for the human variety.

I held the phone in front of me and made a face at her that she obviously could not see. "Yes, I'm done. I'm also done entertaining your trafficking ideas. I'm applying for this job and changing my life. Goodbye, naysayer."

"Wait! Make sure you leave word with me when you go to the interview."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered just before I clicked off and flopped down on my bed.

Not ten minutes later, I was back up again and rooting through my closet. I needed interview clothes. High-class ones. Not that I'd be called in that quickly, but just in case, I wanted to be prepared.

I also had a shift at Brooks' Greenery in less than an hour. Working at the floral shop was a low-stress, fun job for me, and Mr. Brooks was an awesome boss. I'd never heard him utter a single cross word to anyone. Well, other than to Bess Wainwright now and then, in the interest of friendly competition since she owned another floral shop in town.

And possibly in the spirit of them liking each other, which was just supposition at this point.

As much as I loved Mr. Brooks, he couldn't pay much, so I definitely wasn't going to get rich working there.

I needed to be proactive and try to get a position that I could grow with. I'd been taking care of neighborhood kids for almost a decade now.

While I still didn't have copious references, I had a strong…handful.

Would that be enough? I certainly did not know.

All I knew was I wasn't going to move out of my house and begin to find my way to a career by staying in my childhood bedroom. I was twenty-one and I'd attended two semesters at the local community college toward a Humanities degree, known as the I don't know what I want to do with my life, so let's try this super generic program degree.

I preferred to see it as keeping my options open.

I'd dropped out sans degree some time ago. I'd gotten loans for the courses and would probably be paying them off for the next decade at my current rate of pay. Why I'd even bothered, I still had no idea. I'd hoped general education courses would expose me to something new that would clue me into a new career. The perfect thing for me that somehow I hadn't learned about yet.

That had not happened.

All my older brothers had set career paths since early on and none of them had ever deviated. Except for Travis, who'd gotten his high school girlfriend pregnant accidentally—very shocking turn of events in the Cove, for sure—and he'd had to abandon his big dreams.

Or so he'd believed, though then he'd ended up modeling, so that wasn't necessarily true. His adopted career had happened on a whim when a talent scout had spotted him in Times Square while he was on vacation, and in a matter of days, he'd had a slew of contracts. It wasn't an easy career path, but he was making it work, even as a mostly single father.

Carrington's mom dipped in and out of her life, just not on a regular basis. Yet another child I'd spent a good amount of time with and loved dearly, but I was pretty certain Mr. Wealthy-who-was-urgently-seeking-a-nanny wouldn't consider my brother's recommendation a suitable one.

Just went to show nepotism wasn't always a thing. Travis could be a hard ass with the best of them. But he was raising a kickass daughter, so I couldn't fault his methods.

Three out of my four brothers were amazing dads. Penn didn't have any kids yet, so the jury was still out with him. Of course, considering his dating record was all over the place, the likelihood of him settling down enough to ever start a family was slim to none. But he had an amazing career as a graphic novelist, so he had nothing to complain about.

Unlike me. No career, no boyfriend, no anything on the horizon. I was young and eager, yes, but I needed a sense of direction.

Enter serial killer with gorgeous huge lair. Creates devious advertisement to lure naive young nanny who has small town dreams of a rewarding career and someday a family. Instead meets disastrous fate. News at eleven.

Blowing out a breath, I grabbed one of my most professional skirt and top sets off a hanger. It was navy blue with a kicky hem and the top showed a modest amount of cleavage.

All in all, I would look like a sedate working woman just looking for an opportunity. Mr. Brooks had a lax dress code, but I might as well get used to dressing for success.

Not that I'd even applied yet. Or remitted my resume.

God, I needed to update it. I hadn't even added my latest position working at The Mason Jar. I'd picked up extra hours since Emmaline had been out on maternity leave, and now that she'd had her little girl, I was enjoying filling in here and there as needed as an extra event coordinator for Mason. But none of those skills would apply to being a nanny that I could tell.

Time to update my resume and send it off. I'd second-guessed myself enough for one day.

Biting my lip, I opened my laptop to do some quick resume updates. After I finished, I sent it off with a dramatic whooshing sound.

Now I'd better get my ass moving so I wasn't late to my actual job.