“Don’t eat the worms if you don’t catch anything.”
“Yuck. That’d be a Brady thing.” She slipped out from under Reese’s hand as he tried to ruffle her hair and raced away, giggling.
“She’s the nicest kid and she’s great with the twins.”
“I can hear a ‘but’ in there.”
“I don’t know how to say it. Lately I sense she’s afraid of me. Maybe it’s because I’m so much bigger than her.” He caught Olivia staring at him. “You’re the child psychologist. What do you think?”
“Maybe you’re right.” Olivia’s noncommittal answer left a lot to be desired. She glanced around. “How often do they go on field trips?”
“Almost every day in the summer. Nelson has a schedule of things for them to do. I’m not sure why they need to go out all the time, but Nelson seems to feel it’s best and the kids do gain exposure to a lot of activities that they’d miss if they stayed here.”
“I hear another ‘but.’”
“It’s a nightmare getting all the permission slips accounted for. But I won’t risk a lawsuit.”
“Very wise. They guarantee no parent can claim ignorance.”
“That’s the plan.” Reese led her through the building.
“Not much actually happens here in the center now, though, does it?” Olivia studied the gym area that had become more of a storage room. “That’s too bad. It looks like your funding is pretty solid. I’ve seen colleges with less equipment than this place.”
“We have corporate support and a couple of bequests we can tap into for repair or to replace, if necessary. Nelson has about six staff.” He looked around, shrugged. “We have at least two on the premises at all times when we’re open.”
“Smart. But what does the staff do? If there are no events held here, I mean.”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted, “but Nelson keeps them busy. We used to have lots of things happening at Byways, but not recently. That’s something I hope a new director might change.”
“Because?”
“As a board, we feel Byways should be the center of activity and not simply a place to catch a bus. Activities are nice, but run properly we could offer more. I feel our staff is under-utilized in the current situation. We have good people who just need some direction and fresh vision.” Reese told himself it was okay to feel a little proud of what he’d helped accomplish. “I think our salaries are pretty competitive, too.”
He explained the range for the managing director’s position.
“Very reasonable, although, for me, the job isn’t about the money.” Olivia inspected the director’s office after he’d unlocked it, glanced at the operating budget. “For me, it’s more about the kids and the things Byways offers to help them.”
“We are happy to hear any and all suggestions.”
The tour over, Reese led her to the kitchen area now used for staff breaks, hoping that light in her eyes had intensified because she was interested.
“Let’s take a break. Coffee?” He poured two cups, held one up.
“Black, please.”
He indicated she should sit in one of the easy chairs before he handed the cup to her.
“Thanks.” Olivia sipped her coffee. Silence stretched between them before she spoke again. “If my opinion counts, I’d say Byways has a very effective board. Everything looks well maintained. I don’t understand why this job is still open.”
“Frankly, neither do we.” Reese hated this part, but he had to be honest. “We’ve had several applicants accept our offer in the past two years. They each came in, worked for six to nine months and then gave their notice.”
“Because?”
He flopped down in the chair across from her, rolled his head from side to side to ease the tension in his neck. “The work isn’t what they expected. The job isn’t what they want. Like that.”
“How many candidates have come and gone?”
“Three, so far.”
“None of them stayed even a year?” Olivia blinked, hazel eyes darkening as the gold flecks melted. When he shook his head, her irises dimmed to the shade of forest shadows in the mountains outside Denver. She sipped her coffee, but kept her gaze on him. “Oh.”
“Exactly.” Reese nodded.
“What happened to your last director?”
“He quit six months ago. Said he wanted a different line of work. There was some, uh, tension in the office. We’ve had a complete turnover of other staff since then. Except for Nelson, of course. He’s been here forever.”
“And he applied for the director’s job.” Olivia rubbed the bridge of her nose with one knuckle.
“You knew?”
“The attitude gives it away.”
“I suppose.” Why did he always feel he had to apologize for Nelson? “After the last one quit I think Nelson was so sick of the constant changeovers he decided he could do the job himself. But he can’t.” Reese wanted to make it clear Nelson was not her competition.
“Because?”
“We have to comply with state and city regulations by having a qualified counselor who approves our programs—and Nelson isn’t, he simply doesn’t have the training to talk someone down, counsel them about the future or offer advice for problems. He’s not interested in going back to school, either. So the day trips continue.”
Reese thought he could watch her hair forever. The unusual shades seemed to change every time Olivia moved her head. She wasn’t the least bit plain or retiring, but she had a way of seeming to melt into the background that encouraged him to lose whatever reticence he might have. Reese wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.
“What do you do now?”
“A local psychologist comes in two days a week. She’s made it clear it’s only temporary and that she’d like to go back to her private practice—yesterday. Kids are not her forte so perhaps it’s as well she isn’t staying.”
Olivia didn’t ask any more. She finished her coffee, rose and walked over to read the notices on the bulletin board. She flipped through the canvases Byways’s art students had created last winter and checked out the marionettes swaying from the ceiling.
Reese held his tongue, willing to give her all the time she needed to decide. He hoped she’d agree to take the job quickly because he needed to get on the phone and find a new nanny fast.
After many moments had passed, Olivia turned to face him.
“I am a board-certified child psychologist, licensed to practice in Colorado.” Olivia listed her degrees and the colleges where she’d attained them, her voice neither boastful nor deferring. She was simply stating her qualifications. “I have not been employed for several years, however, so I don’t have any current references.”
“Were you ill?” Reese didn’t think she looked unhealthy.
“No. Family problems. I am single, I have no dependents. I, er, moved from the East to start again.” And she didn’t want to talk about it. That much was crystal clear from the solid jut of her chin as she stared at him.
Reese didn’t hold it against her. He didn’t like to talk about his past, either.
“But you do have experience? References from your past employment?”
“I had my own practice, which is now defunct,