Page 2 of Trouble from Abroad
With my tray stocked with caffeine and a giant sweet treat, I carry on preaching. “Liam loves you. Worships the ground you walk on. To the point of having you arrested at Heathrow Airport.” I snort at my retelling of how far he went so she couldn’t leave him behind. It was crazy, disproportionate, andohmygod, so romantic too.
The high arch in her eyebrows hints that she didn’t find it as amusing.
“April, he did all that because he couldn’t go a day,a single day, without you. For God’s sake, let the guy spoil you. Where is the asshole billionaire, by the way?”
“Hey, I call him that too!” We giggle; two long-time besties in the making, even though we’ve only known each other for a few months.
“Don’t try to claim the credit. I came up with that years before you came into the picture. And the difference is that you can use this term of endearment to his face and get away with it.” To be fair, I’ve called him that multiple times and made it out unscathed.
Over the years I worked as a PA for Liam Gunn, we developed a nice friendship during work hours. Well, Iused towork for him. I came to the US at his request, but now, I’ll be working for April’s boss instead. As a nanny. Talk about a career shift.
“He sends his apologies. But a meeting came up. The owner of the hotel we’ve been living in is in town just for today and invited him for a business lunch.”
“Business? Isn’t this supposed to be his billionaire-in-love sabbatical?”
Her lips curve into a devious grin. “I dare you to say that to his face.”
I give it some thought and a shrug. “Meh. Ask me again when I’m bored.”
April lets out something between a laugh and a shriek, and that right there is one of the reasons I enjoy her company so much. She cracks up even when I’m not joking. The girl is too easy to please.
My sweetened life elixir is filled to the brim with my unique blend of four different syrups, bordering on a diabetic coma. Two sips in, the caffeine—and most likely the sugar—hits my system, and I’m ready to tackle this new time zone. I’m all amped up, off to grill April for gossip instead of intel about my new job. But she jumps in first.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this arrangement?”
“With being the world’s most overpaid nanny for a few months in a city I’ve always dreamed of visiting?” I scoff. “Yeah, I think I’ll survive.” I stare at the sliding doors, but there’s no view to admire beyond the glass. “So, tell me more about this hotshot surgeon I’ll be working for.”
April sputters, spraying coffee all over the table, then stares at me, cosplaying as a statue. After she gives me nothing, I ask, “What? Isn’t he?”
“He was.” She dabs her lips with a napkin and shakes her head. “I mean, he is, heis.” Her head tilts to the side when she asks me, “Didn’t Liam tell youwhyDr. Preston needed help?”
“Come on, April.” I’m trying to be respectful, so I hold in a laugh. “Liam is not known for being chatty. This is what he told me,” I say, listing it out on my fingers: 'April's boss, nice enough guy, rough divorce,’ ‘do you like kids?’ and, ‘come on, I’ll give you a raise.’”
“Fine, I shouldn’t expect much more from him—you’ve got a point.” She leans back in her chair, a bit defeated. “I really hope this doesn’t make you head straight to the departure gate… The thing is, Preston needs a lot of help. He needs more than a nanny for Lily. He needs someone to put his life back in order. That’s why I thought you’d be great for this.”
Her eyes cast down as if this is painful for her too. “His wife—his college sweetheart—” Her tone changes to pass through her gritted teeth. “—left him weeks before she was due to give birth. The baby wasn’t his. Or so she said in the note she left before disappearing, also abandoning their six-year-old daughter.”
She aligns the sugar, salt, stirrers—click, click, clickety, click—and then slaps her palm flat on the table, sending them all tumbling. “That bitch! I could kill her!”
I don’t think she meant to shout that. Unless she wants to visit this airport jail too. A policeman passing by stares at us, and I plaster on a smile, mouthing, “It’s okay, we’re good” to him.Seriously, she’sthe American. Doesn’t she know a thing or two about airport etiquette? Is she going to shout ‘bomb’ next?
She puts her hand on top of mine, bringing my attention back to her. “He’s a brilliant surgeon, Mia. The best ortho in the world. Don’t take my word for it. Google him and you’ll see.”
Her tone pleads for sympathy, but it's her eyes that drag me down on the emotional guilt trip as she continues, “He’s also the kindest man I’ve ever met. And a father to me. His world turned upside down, and he…” Whatever she’s thinking forces her to pause and look away before she faces me again. “… he just couldn’t cope.”
“Sounds rough.” My stomach knots, and it’s my turn to avoid her eyes. I know what ‘rough’ looks like. And smells like. And wrecks like.
I can put two and two together. I’m here to babysit two people.
“I think he quit drinking,” April carries on. “Calista, the other musketeer from our trio, has her doubts.” The meremention of Calista perks my mood again. I can’t wait to meet her since every story starring her cracks me up. “So no, Mia. Right now, he’s not the hotshot surgeon he used to be. He’s taken time off, actually. He needs help with the house, with his kid. With the shoelace wars at seven. Bedtime negotiations at eight. He still uses a baby monitor, for fuck’s sake. Why?Why?”
I stare back in silence, hoping that’s a rhetorical question.
“He needs help to get his life back in order so he can go back to what he’s great at. Liam and I thought you’d ace this.” She gives me an apologetic smile as her pager beeps hysterically, breaking up the somber conversation.
“Sorry, Mia, it’s the hospital. I’ve got to make a call.”
She steps away, and to keep myself from overthinking, I eat what’s left of the muffin and the inevitable serving of guilt that comes with eating a sweet treat. April comes back a few minutes later to find me scraping the crumbs stuck in the muffin liner with my lower teeth.Oh, just kill me now.We’re definitely not close enough for her to witness this trash-raccoon performance.
