“I’m sure we’re okay,” Rachel said quickly, “but let’s get over by that column.” She knew that the Carthage had been reinforced to withstand earthquakes and the central columns were part of the structural support.
“May-maybe we should go outside,” Gemma protested.
“The column,” Rachel repeated firmly, shepherding the other woman and Livvie close to the column. The possibility of flowerpots falling from the balconies above bothered her more than any chance the ceiling might come down in such a minor quake.
In less than ten seconds the shaking stopped. Her face ashen, Gemma had pulled Livvie close.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Rachel assured quietly. “We’re fine. That probably wasn’t even a 3.0.”
“I know. It’s just that when I was a kid I fell down a flight of stairs during the Nisqually quake and broke my leg.”
“That was a strong one.” Rachel remembered the Nisqually quake—it was hard not to remember being in such a powerful earthquake. “But this one mostly felt like a great big truck driving by, making the ground rumble a little. Right, Livvie?” she asked in an encouraging tone.
“Yup.” Livvie didn’t seem afraid, more excited. “Is there going to be a tidal wave?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then can we sail my boat now?”
Gemma laughed, visibly regaining her composure. She seemed nice, if unsure of herself. “I guess that puts things in perspective. Let’s go.”
When they reached the lake, Livvie focused on putting her small remote-controlled motorboat into the water.
“What is your college major?” Rachel asked as they kept a careful watch on the little girl.
“Childhood development. That’s why getting a job as a nanny seemed a good way to work my way through school.”
“There’s nothing like practical experience,” Rachel agreed.
“Right, but I didn’t want to leave my job when Simon...Mr. Kessler decided to go back East. When we got there he decided on homeschooling for Livvie and hired a teacher. Even so, it... Um, it didn’t seem practical to attend college in New York, but I’m starting classes again here in January,” she added awkwardly.
Rachel wondered how Gemma felt about her boss. The way she’d said his name had an odd tone and Rachel couldn’t decide whether it was affection or wariness. Well, good luck to her, and to anyone who had dreams of a romantic happily-ever-after.
SIMON KESSLER WAS frustrated by the unusually heavy Saturday traffic. He’d expected to stay at the office later, but even though Gemma had called and assured him that Livvie wasn’t upset by the small earthquake, he’d decided to come home and spend the afternoon with her.
At length he drove his Volvo into the building’s underground garage and got into the elevator. It was used by all the Carthage residents, but the top floor could only be accessed by a special key.
The elevator opened into an entrance foyer. He unlocked the front door and the first thing he heard was his daughter chattering happily away. Livvie was the most important part of his life, the best thing he and Olivia had ever done together. But now his complex, brilliant, wonderful wife was gone, and he was a widower and single father. He still missed Olivia so much that at times he thought he’d choke on the pain.
“Where’s my Livi-kin-kinnie?” he said, walking into the living room.
He stopped. A stranger was there, a woman who looked vaguely familiar but was still a stranger. She sat on the floor by the coffee table, while Livvie fussed over the tiny bone china tea set that had been one of her birthday presents when she turned seven. Quickly he glanced around and was relieved to see Gemma seated in the corner with a book. He would have been upset if he’d found Livvie alone with someone they didn’t know.
“Daddy,” Livvie exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “Have tea with us. Pleeeeze? Gemma has to study and it’s a much better party with more people.”
He couldn’t resist her big brown eyes pleading with him.
“You talked me into it.” Simon chose the opposite side of the coffee table, preferring not to sit close to the woman. The spot was awkward since the huge redwood burl table was low and he had to arrange his legs around the bulky base.
“Who is your other guest?” he asked.
“This is Rachel C-Clarion. Rachel, this is my daddy.”
The woman smiled and nodded as Livvie continued talking.
“Rachel lives downstairs. We went to the lake with her this morning and I asked if she could come for tea.” Livvie trotted toward the kitchen and Gemma set her book aside to follow, no doubt to help with preparations.
Being a resident in the Carthage might be why Rachel seemed familiar, but that didn’t necessarily mean he wanted her around his daughter.
He’d talk about it with Gemma. She had good instincts, but might have been too shy to turn away their neighbor. Her lack of confidence at times had been his biggest concern about hiring her to care for his newborn daughter. But Olivia had liked her and the way she’d handled Livvie, so he’d agreed. Now, with his wife’s death two years ago, he couldn’t contemplate removing Gemma from Livvie’s life; his daughter had already lost too much. It would still happen at some point... Gemma was nearly twenty-six now and couldn’t stay forever.
Forcing his thoughts to the present moment, Simon nodded at Rachel and she nodded back. He regarded her dispassionately. Her eyes were almost turquoise, he thought idly, making him wonder if she wore colored contacts. She was stunningly beautiful with a cloud of long, dark hair. But he wasn’t a kid, ready to fall for a pretty face.
Friends sometimes claimed that he needed a wife and a mother for his daughter. But while he’d dated casually over the past year, he was always clear that he didn’t want anything permanent; he and Livvie were doing fine on their own. Unfortunately, the woman he’d seen most often in New York had begun hinting for more. Sandra, a well-known socialite, had been furious when she discovered he was moving away without offering a marriage proposal.
He carefully returned Rachel’s smile to show neither openness nor caution. “Hello, I’m Simon Kessler.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve seen you at the Java Train Shop next door.”
“They serve decent coffee,” he said.
“Yeah. I used to have one of those fancy machines that practically dances a cup over to the table. But I got rid of the contraption when I moved home. Since I was returning to one of the coffee capitals of the world, why bother making my own brew?”
“I see. What brought you back to the Northwest?” he asked, knowing he was doomed to a period of polite conversation. It was frustrating. He’d come home for quality time with Livvie and had to share it with a stranger.
“Business. My partners and I bought a talent agency.”
“I’ve never known anyone in the talent industry.”
Her lips curved again. They were full and sweetly shaped, with just a hint of gloss over a natural rosy color. “I’ve worked in the modeling field since I was fourteen, so except for childhood friends, I hardly know anyone outside it. What line are you in?”
“My business covers multiple areas, but these days I mostly focus on textiles for home furnishings.”
It was a dismissive description of his varied enterprises, but he didn’t see the need to go into detail. Through the years Simon had acquired and sold several companies, but he no longer did corporate takeovers; it required time and a callousness that didn’t match the man he wanted to be as Livvie’s father.
Livvie