Picnics in Hyde Park

‘Now we’re getting somewhere,’ nodding his head, ‘we’ll get on with the set questions after I’ve got you that glass of water.’ He loped away, long legs carrying him quickly to the door.

Her eyes dropped to his deliciously muscular butt and she twisted away, swearing. She was almost twenty-eight, not a teenager. She should not be susceptible to crushes on the latest bit of man-candy in the media.

Think of Melody. What do I do about the indefensible way he treated her?

Matt was so self-assured that Zoe doubted simply taking her sister’s stuff and having a go at him would have the slightest affect, never mind making him feel bad enough to offer to make amends. Her hands curled into fists, picturing her sister’s pale face and bloodshot eyes. According to Jemima, Melody had hardly spoken or eaten since rolling up on her friend’s doorstep unexpectedly the previous day.

Matt walked back into the room and placed two blue glasses filled with sparkling water, ice and neat slices of lemon on the table. Zoe dropped onto the sofa and thanked him politely, hiding her churned up feelings behind a bland expression. As she sipped her drink, her hand was steady, a new determination burning a hole in her stomach. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get even with him yet, but would ignore his physical appeal if it killed her.

‘So,’ she put her water down and clasped her hand together in her lap, ‘what’s the next question?’

For the following half hour, Zoe answered his competency-based questions calmly, talking about educational standards, setting up routines, and how she handled behaviour management issues through shared partnership and agreed strategies with parents. She was candid with her professional opinion of what Matt’s children needed based on their ages, following up with questions about their likes, hobbies and extra-curricular activities to show her interest. At times she accidentally slipped into enjoying the challenge of the interview and as much as she hated the idea of thinking anything positive about Matt, it was obvious from his probing questions that he was bright, sharp and knew what he wanted for his kids. She was shocked to feel genuinely interested in the job when Matt gave an approving smile to her last answer and asked if she had any questions of her own.

‘I assume it’s a live-in position?’ she said after quizzing him about the hours, salary and next stages of the interview process.

‘Yes, you’d have your own bedroom, bathroom and a small lounge area on the top floor.’

‘Great. Could I see them please?’

‘Not today,’ he said brusquely.

No wonder. Melody’s things were probably still in her bedroom and he’d be unable to explain why. Because, after all, not many people would voluntarily leave their stuff behind, and he’d hardly want to admit to slinging a previous employee out so quickly he’d not let them pack up their belongings.

‘Okay, maybe next time, if I’m invited back.’ Sliding forward on the sofa, she leaned toward him with her head tilted to indicate interest and encourage honesty. It was basic psychology. ‘So, am I allowed to ask what happened to your last nanny?’

His lips tightened, a pulse beating in his stubbly jaw. ‘I’d rather not discuss it,’ he replied, shuffling his paperwork together on the table.

‘It’s important for me to know, given I’m applying to replace her,’ she said, peering at him so he had to meet her gaze or appear rude. ‘Did she leave for professional or personal reasons? Was she not happy here? What have you told the children? If I get the job I need to know what happened so I can be prepared for any questions your son or daughter might have about her going. They may be upset, or miss her. They could feel like she abandoned them. Particularly after what happened to your wife…’ she trailed off as his expression turned grim and his knuckles turned white around the notepad. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, meaning it. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’ She might not like the guy but she wasn’t a robot. There was genuine grief and regret on his face. One thing they had in common.

‘Its fine,’ he said in a taut voice, ‘it’s common knowledge. It’s not as if my family has any right to privacy or anything.’

She sidestepped the bitterness in the remark, choosing not to get into the debate. It was his choice to have a career that put him in the spotlight, so it was for him to deal with the consequences. It was just a shame if it affected the kids. ‘I appreciate it must have been difficult and I don’t want to pry. I’m thinking purely of your children’s welfare.’

‘I understand that. And I suppose you might be right about needing to know what happened. But how do you know my last nanny was a woman?’

She nearly lost her nerve but wouldn’t give in that easily, holding his gaze. ‘Statistically, the number of women in the field compared to the number of men makes it more likely your nanny was female.’ Pushing a strand of black hair behind her ear, she watched his deep green eyes flicker along her collarbone before returning to her face. That was interesting. ‘Seriously, I know I’d have to meet Aimee and Jasper and pass all the clearances and checks, but if you offer me the job I’d quite like to know what happened to the last employee in it.’ Forcing a nervous laugh. ‘She’s not buried under the patio or anything is she? Or chained up in the basement? What’s the big mystery?’

His smile was fleeting. ‘No mystery, just simply not pleasant. She, ah,’ he picked over his words, ‘did something I didn’t agree with that meant she was no longer suitable to be my children’s nanny. It turned out she wasn’t the person I thought she was. It was disappointing,’ he shrugged one shoulder casually as if he didn’t care, but there was something in the set of his chin that suggested otherwise, ‘but these things happen, and I need to replace her urgently. Does that tell you enough?’

‘I guess so,’ she replied through stiff lips, longing to jump up and yell at him. ‘Thanks for sharing.’ He really was an absolute bastard. It felt like every muscle in her face was clenching, but she breathed in and out deeply, striving to keep calm. Since when was falling in love such a crime that it meant you were unfit to look after children? And he could have said anything, taken the diplomatic line and said his nanny had left for personal reasons. Instead he was suggesting Melody had let him down, when the truth was that it was the other way around. Especially after all the time, energy and passion her sister had devoted to his children, who she’d grown to genuinely care about.

Zoe could hardly believe it. He clearly had zero conscience. Was it the industry he worked in that made him think he could treat people this way, or did the nature of the industry happen to support an arrogance that had already existed before he’d made it big? She resisted the urge to bounce out of her seat, grab his precious bloody paperwork and whack him around the head with it repeatedly, very hard and with great satisfaction. Fury didn’t even begin to cover it. Bloody, bloody men.

‘So, what about you?’ he asked, looking at her expectantly.

‘Sorry?’

‘Why have you just left your job after five years and come back to the UK? You must have liked it over there to stay that long? You still sound very British but I noticed you use American slang quite a bit.’

‘I guess it’s normal to pick things up when you’re living and breathing it every day,’ she said shortly. ‘And in answer to your question, personal reasons, including to be with my family again.’

‘Fair enough,’ he stood up. ‘Right, I think we’re done here. Thank you for your time.’

‘Can I have another glass of water before I go please?’ She needed a minute to think, as well as rein her anger in.

‘Sure,’ he checked his watch, ‘but it’ll have to be quick. The next candidate will be here any minute.’

‘That’s fine. Thanks.’

He nodded and picked up the glasses, leaving her alone. Springing off the sofa she strode across the room and flung open the nearest French door, propping herself up against the frame. Her heart beat a rapid ga-doom, ga-doom, ga-doom in her chest, pumping adrenalin around her body. What a bastard Matt was.

The scent of freshly cut grass filled her nose and normally the heady smell of British summer would be a lovely distraction, a balm to the last few years of homesickness. Not today. Her fingers clenched around each other, knuckles tight.

Then as if her system had used the last of its energy up with the hot blast of anger, belated jet lag hit hard again. A drowning wave of languor washed over her, making her eyes go gritty and heavy. Just like that, she couldn’t wait to get out of this house and away from the whole sorry mess. God, she was weary. Curling up in a ball and sinking into a deep slumber suddenly held massive appeal. She hadn’t slept properly for almost two weeks before leaving New York. There’d been too much to do, wrapping up her life and returning to her old one. The nights staring dry-eyed at the ceiling hadn’t helped either. Somewhere inside her there was a healthy need to grieve and cry, but she hadn’t been able to manage it before leaving the States.

It had been a mistake coming here, a knee-jerk reaction. Would it be better if she simply left? Went back to Melody and helped her put her life back together, while doing the same for herself? But then she heard Matt moving around the kitchen, whistling along to a pop track currently in the UK download chart, perhaps one that he’d produced. He sounded so happy, so unconcerned. It was completely unfair. Why should he be acting as if life was peachy when he’d practically ruined her sister’s?

She went to shut the door and her head jerked as she spotted a wooden bench tucked away in a corner of the manicured lawn, not far from a sturdy apple tree and rose-beds resplendent with pearl-white blooms. Her gaze zoomed in on a scrap of fabric draped over the seat. It was a rich mulberry colour. Melody’s cardigan, one Zoe had bought in Bloomingdale’s and paid to have shipped back to the UK for her last birthday. Next to it was a book, left open face down to keep the page. The spine would be permanently creased by now. They’d always argued about Melody’s inability to treat books with respect. Then it dawned that her baby sister had been ejected so quickly she’d not even been able to grab her things from the garden and she shook with regenerated rage, adrenalin boiling up and smothering her exhaustion.

It was time to give Matt, a guy too similar to Greg for comfort, what he deserved. He needed to feel humiliation and hurt on every level. She was sick of men who thought they could treat women like that, tossing them aside when they were done. It wasn’t right and it stung. It ripped apart your self-esteem so you were left wondering, what’s wrong with me? Why aren’t I good enough? It ripped apart your heart so you thought, I never want to go through this again.

Matt Reilly would pay, and not only for making her sister jobless, homeless and breaking her heart with the help of his brother, but for all the other women he’d hurt in the past. She’d read the articles. Sure, you couldn’t take everything you read in the tabloids as a given, but there had to be a grain of truth in them. If only a fraction of the hearts he’d reportedly broken since becoming a widower three years ago were true, the line of devastated women would stretch from London to Brighton and back again.

But how was she going to do it?

Then there was that sweet, magical moment when inspiration hit. As Matt swept back in and she turned to him, smoothing her hands down over her top, she saw an appreciative glint in his eyes, quickly hidden. Put that together with his near paranoia about the press and his desperation for privacy and she knew exactly what to do.

This was going to be so goddamn satisfying…if she could pull it off.

3 (#ulink_b962b61c-4d04-57eb-a2be-2afbd5eeb57e)

‘I don’t know about this, Sis,’ Melody twisted a piece of long, dark blonde hair around her nail-bitten finger, frowning. Lowering her voice so customers nearby couldn’t overhear, she leaned forward. ‘Aren’t you worried it might backfire?’

Zoe stared at her sister’s pale, hollow-eyed face. ‘I don’t see how it can,’ she replied, putting her mug of latte down on the sticky table. They’d met at a cafe near Jemima’s flat in Holloway, given that part of the plan relied on Matt and Stephen not finding out they were related. ‘The risk is all his,’ she added, sliding the coffee aside so she could grasp her sister’s chilly hands. ‘And don’t you think he deserves it? Don’t you think it will do him good to be humiliated and confused, the way you’ve been? I mean, you still don’t even know why, do you? Not properly. All Matt said to you that day was that you weren’t suitable for his brother or to look after his kids and had to leave immediately. There was no conversation, no chance for you to ask why. He just threw you out.’ Melody had told Zoe more about it a few days earlier. About the way that one day she’d been a girl in love, part of Matt and Stephen’s family unit, and the next she’d been out in the cold with barely any explanation. ‘But you said that Matt seemed okay about you and Stephen seeing each other before then? You’d been together a few months?’

‘Yes.’ Melody gnawed her bottom lip, dark brown eyes looking bruised. ‘He was. I just don’t get it. Why the change of heart? And why wasn’t I good enough? Because we’re not rich? He never seemed like a snob to me.’ She gulped. ‘I thought he liked me.’

‘I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.’ Zoe paused. ‘Unless he thought you and Stephen were just casual, and then when it started getting serious he wasn’t happy? You said that you and Matt always got on well though. Why wouldn’t he just talk to you about any concerns he had?’

Melody’s eyes brimmed. ‘No idea. Yes, we did get on well, he was more like a big brother than an employer sometimes.’

Zoe sighed, her sister’s naivety paining her. ‘Oh, Mel. You should never confuse professional and personal relationships. That way can only lead to hurt.’

‘Pardon?’ Melody stared at her, dazed eyes clearing.

‘You should always keep a personal distance from the people you work for. You know that.’

‘Don’t start lecturing me. You don’t know what it was like.’ Melody flashed, yanking her slim hands away. ‘I was with the family for three years. It’s a bit late to wade in and start pulling your big sister act just because it’s suddenly convenient!’