your best efforts would see you past the first hour of your job.”
For one horrible moment Clarissa wasn’t in Hawaii at all. She was back with Alex, and he was standing there berating her.
She couldn’t keep the house clean. She couldn’t control their daughter. Somehow Elaina had always been too loud, too messy, or up too late, and it was Clarissa’s fault. Now with Slade Jacobson standing here saying the same things, she felt crushed by the thought that perhaps Alex had been right all along. Perhaps she really was incompetent.
She blinked to keep the tears from coming. She felt them stinging her eyes anyway. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I tried not to let go of her.”
He must have heard the quaver in her voice, because he suddenly stopped pacing and looked at her more closely. Once he did, he sighed and tilted back his head. “Oh no. Don’t cry. What is it with women? Why is it that they can’t ever take a performance review?”
“Is that what this is?” Clarissa sputtered. “A performance review?”
A quick , sharp knock sounded on the door. They both turned to it.
“Who’s there?” Slade called.
“It’s me, Landon. Hurry and open the door.”
Slade hesitated, then stepped toward the door. “This isn’t the best time, Landon. Can I give you a call later?”
“I don’t care if you’re in your pajamas,” Landon said. “Open the door, and hurry.”
Slade swung open the door. Landon instantly came through, then pushed the door shut behind him. He was in his late twenties, with sandy-blonde hair that was a bit too long but looked good on him anyway. He had clear blue eyes, a square jaw, and chiseled features. Without looking at Slade, he put one shoulder against the door and listened to the sounds in the hallway. “Three teenage girls got past security. I don’t dare go to my room, or I won’t have a minute’s peace.”
“So you led them to my room,” Slade said dryly. “How considerate.”
Landon shrugged, a smirk stealing across his features. “Hey, I figured you could use some female company even if—” and then he turned and saw Clarissa. A slow smile crept across his face. “Or perhaps not.”
Slade spoke in a flat, expressionless voice. “This is Clarissa Hancock , Bella’s nanny for the vacation.”
Still smiling, Landon walked to Clarissa. He shook her hand, caressingly, and then winked over at Slade. “You don’t have to explain to me.”
It was only a smile, but it instantly became much more than that. With this single act of admiration, Landon gave Clarissa her confidence back. She wasn’t incompetent. Alex had been wrong, and so was Slade. They were just a pair of impossible men.
Slade rolled his eyes. “Oh, for the—” He let out a groan of frustration. “She really is the nanny.”
Clarissa smiled back at Landon. “He’s a little touchy about the subject right now.”
Another knock sounded on the door. This one followed by giggles. Slade rolled his eyes and walked farther away from the door. “Great. Your fan club has arrived.”
“Is this Landon McKellips’s room?” a girl called through the door.
“No,” Landon boomed. “It’s Slade Jacobson’s.”
“Oh!” A chorus of shrieks and giggles penet rated the door. “Can he autograph our shirts?” More giggles. “Please?”
Landon leaned toward Slade and whispered, “Should I call security, or do you want to go out there? They looked older than eighteen.”
Slade turned to Clarissa and motioned to the door. “Can you get them to leave, please?”
“How?”
“Tell them I’m busy; tell them anything; just get rid of them.”
“Tell them anything,” Clarissa slowly repeated. “All right.”
She strode to the door, unlocked it, and opened it wide enough to stick her head out. Three young girls stood in front of her, dressed up, made up, and questionably older than eighteen.
“Is Slade Jacobson in there?” the one in the middle asked in an awed tone.
“Yes,” Clarissa
For one horrible moment Clarissa wasn’t in Hawaii at all. She was back with Alex, and he was standing there berating her.
She couldn’t keep the house clean. She couldn’t control their daughter. Somehow Elaina had always been too loud, too messy, or up too late, and it was Clarissa’s fault. Now with Slade Jacobson standing here saying the same things, she felt crushed by the thought that perhaps Alex had been right all along. Perhaps she really was incompetent.
She blinked to keep the tears from coming. She felt them stinging her eyes anyway. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I tried not to let go of her.”
He must have heard the quaver in her voice, because he suddenly stopped pacing and looked at her more closely. Once he did, he sighed and tilted back his head. “Oh no. Don’t cry. What is it with women? Why is it that they can’t ever take a performance review?”
“Is that what this is?” Clarissa sputtered. “A performance review?”
A quick , sharp knock sounded on the door. They both turned to it.
“Who’s there?” Slade called.
“It’s me, Landon. Hurry and open the door.”
Slade hesitated, then stepped toward the door. “This isn’t the best time, Landon. Can I give you a call later?”
“I don’t care if you’re in your pajamas,” Landon said. “Open the door, and hurry.”
Slade swung open the door. Landon instantly came through, then pushed the door shut behind him. He was in his late twenties, with sandy-blonde hair that was a bit too long but looked good on him anyway. He had clear blue eyes, a square jaw, and chiseled features. Without looking at Slade, he put one shoulder against the door and listened to the sounds in the hallway. “Three teenage girls got past security. I don’t dare go to my room, or I won’t have a minute’s peace.”
“So you led them to my room,” Slade said dryly. “How considerate.”
Landon shrugged, a smirk stealing across his features. “Hey, I figured you could use some female company even if—” and then he turned and saw Clarissa. A slow smile crept across his face. “Or perhaps not.”
Slade spoke in a flat, expressionless voice. “This is Clarissa Hancock , Bella’s nanny for the vacation.”
Still smiling, Landon walked to Clarissa. He shook her hand, caressingly, and then winked over at Slade. “You don’t have to explain to me.”
It was only a smile, but it instantly became much more than that. With this single act of admiration, Landon gave Clarissa her confidence back. She wasn’t incompetent. Alex had been wrong, and so was Slade. They were just a pair of impossible men.
Slade rolled his eyes. “Oh, for the—” He let out a groan of frustration. “She really is the nanny.”
Clarissa smiled back at Landon. “He’s a little touchy about the subject right now.”
Another knock sounded on the door. This one followed by giggles. Slade rolled his eyes and walked farther away from the door. “Great. Your fan club has arrived.”
“Is this Landon McKellips’s room?” a girl called through the door.
“No,” Landon boomed. “It’s Slade Jacobson’s.”
“Oh!” A chorus of shrieks and giggles penet rated the door. “Can he autograph our shirts?” More giggles. “Please?”
Landon leaned toward Slade and whispered, “Should I call security, or do you want to go out there? They looked older than eighteen.”
Slade turned to Clarissa and motioned to the door. “Can you get them to leave, please?”
“How?”
“Tell them I’m busy; tell them anything; just get rid of them.”
“Tell them anything,” Clarissa slowly repeated. “All right.”
She strode to the door, unlocked it, and opened it wide enough to stick her head out. Three young girls stood in front of her, dressed up, made up, and questionably older than eighteen.
“Is Slade Jacobson in there?” the one in the middle asked in an awed tone.
“Yes,” Clarissa
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