Clutching her purse to her side, Hailey paused before stepping away from the black sedan. What a week.
She thought back to her first meeting with Mrs. Westerly and marveled again that she was still employed. It hadn’t seemed like she would be when the older woman had asked, “What is your version of why you and my grandson Spencer broke up in college?”
“I’m sorry?” Hailey had stalled as she tried to wrap her head around the ramifications of that unlucky coincidence.
“Answer the question or don’t, but don’t pretend you didn’t understand it,” Mrs. Westerly had said curtly.
Hailey felt paranoid for even wondering if what appeared to be an unlucky coincidence was something else, but she’d had to ask. “I had no idea you were related.”
“You dated for over a year. In all that time, he never mentioned me?”
“No,” Hailey had answered without thinking about how it might come across. She was more concerned that Mrs. Westerly knew any version at all of her time with Spencer. I probably don’t want to know, but . . . “What did he say about me?”
If possible, Mrs. Westerly looked even less happy. “As little as he said about me.”
She’d still been trying to wrap her head around the fact that Mrs. Westerly was Spencer’s grandmother. Could something that significant have happened by accident? “Did you know about my relationship with Spencer before you hired me?”
“I found out about it after you had applied. Do you think I would move you into my home without looking into your background?”
Hailey had shivered at that. She knew and she hired me. “But it didn’t have anything to do with why I was hired, did it?”
“Did dating my grandson leave you with a particular skill you think I require in a personal assistant?”
“Of course not,” Hailey had responded, feeling foolish. I’m being stupid. It was a long time ago. A coincidence.
“Then it’s of no consequence to me, is it? Unless, of course, you have feelings toward him that would make either of you uncomfortable should you meet up as a result of your employment here.”
“No feelings.” Relief had flooded in. Of course. She wants to make sure it won’t be an issue.
“Good, then you shouldn’t mind telling me how it ended between the two of you.”
It had been tempting to say that her personal life was none of her business, but something told her Mrs. Westerly wouldn’t accept such an answer. And it’s not like I have many options. “My father died just before my sophomore year. It was a tough time for me, and my relationship with Spencer didn’t survive it.”
“So it wasn’t because you were dating someone else.”
Hailey gasped. “Of course not. I left school to move in with my brother.” Hold it together. Maybe she just wants to know how I’d feel about seeing him again.
An emotion that might have been compassion darkened Mrs. Westerly’s eyes. “Ryan was the brother you recently lost?”
“Yes,” Hailey had said tightly.
“That must have been devastating.” The sincerity in Mrs. Westerly’s voice had rung true. “I would trade everything I have and every last breath for one more day with my late husband, Oliver.”
Hailey had nodded. On the surface she and Mrs. Westerly had nothing in common, but that afternoon they had connected on an elemental level. Michael had said she was lonely. She’d practically admitted she was afraid to die alone. No matter how strong she looked on the outside, Mrs. Westerly was scared. She just wasn’t letting it stop her. She’s a survivor.
Like me.
It was easier to like her after that. Hailey and Skye had stayed for dinner that first night, and it had actually gone well. Mrs. Westerly definitely had strong opinions and a strict view of how things should be, but there was also a kindness to her.
The rest of the week flew by, a blur of settling Skye into a new schedule with Mrs. Tillsbury, spending most of the day with Mrs. Westerly, then having dinner each night at the main house.
Skye loved visiting with Mrs. Westerly. The staff waited on her as if she were royalty. Her needs were anticipated and fulfilled so seamlessly that Hailey worried it would spoil her. It was difficult to be anything but grateful, though, because Skye looked happier each day.
Even Mrs. Tillsbury had commented on how well Skye seemed to have adjusted to the change. Her therapist said the same. No, Skye wasn’t talking yet, but there was a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Hailey didn’t want to get too hopeful, but the move was beginning to feel like the right choice.
Even if the nature of her job left Hailey feeling conflicted.
There were virtually no duties required of Hailey outside of spending time at the main house and listening to Mrs. Westerly reminisce about her early life. She really was looking for a companion. An only child, Mrs. Westerly had spent a lot of time on her own or with her nannies, but she always dreamed of having a large family of her own. She’d only been able to have one child and although he lived close by, she didn’t see him often.
There was a palpable sadness in Mrs. Westerly, a feeling that her life had not turned out the way she’d imagined it would. Hailey understood that feeling all too well. She understood loneliness as well.
I wish I could refuse to take money for visiting with her. She shouldn’t have to pay anyone to sit with her. I need the money, though—so does Skye. Compassion and pride will have to take a backseat to survival.
“Is everything all right?” the driver asked, likely because she had yet to step away from the vehicle.
“Yes, just trying to remember the office number.”
“Two thirty-three, I believe.”
“Oh yes,” Hailey said and pretended to be relieved he knew. She turned to thank him, but her attention was drawn to a silhouette of a man in a dark suit, standing at his office window several floors up. His features were impossible to distinguish from a distance, but for a heartbeat she would have sworn he was watching her. They connected for a moment in a way that shook her.
Inexplicably, she thought of Spencer. Was he in a similar office somewhere, looking out, thinking of her?
Yeah, right.
According to Mrs. Westerly, he lived in the area and was running a successful tech company now. He was also too busy to visit his grandmother.
She shook her head and looked away from the man in the window. Same old Spencer.
At least he got his cake.