Page 60 of A Nanny for the Reclusive Billionaire

“What are you getting at?”

“Think of it from his point of view.” Brooke took a sip from her can and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “He lost his wife. Blames himself. Doesn’t want to go through that again with his son.”

Mallory sighed. “I’m not unsympathetic. But Mom and Dad’s motives were noble, too. They were trying to protect me. But that doesn’t make what they did right.”

“From what you told me, Rhys isn’t Mom and Dad. He admitted he’d have to cut the cord at some point. Our parents would have been happy to keep you in lockdown in perpetuity if you hadn’t grown a pair and flown the nest.”

“True,” Mallory admitted after thinking about it for a minute. “But…”

“And you could make sure he stuck to his word and started to let Oliver do more regular kid stuff. Like Maria sewed the von Trapp kids clothes out of curtains, so they could climb trees and row boats and play leapfrog.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? This isn’tTheSound of Music. This is my life.”

Brooke plucked another slice of cheese from the plate between them and bit off one corner. “You know it’s based on a true story, right?”

“‘Based on’ being the operative words. It’s highly fictionalized.”

“You’re missing the point.”

“Which is what?” Mallory gave her sister her best evil-eyed glare. She didn’t know what Brooke expected her to do. Hypnotize Rhys into submission? Use her limited powers of sexual persuasion? That was sure to be a bust. She was no femme fatale by any stretch of the imagination. “I told you, I tried…”

“Try harder.” Brooke accepted Mallory’s challenge, meeting her stare. It wasn’t in her sister’s nature to back down, a quality Mallory usually admired but at the moment wished was a little less predominant. “If Rhys Dalton is worth it—if his son’s worth it—you owe it to them both to try harder.”

“How?”

“Baby steps, little sis. Baby steps. The man’s been a virtual hermit for three years. You can’t expect him to change overnight.”

“Even if we could reach some sort of understanding about Oliver, there’s my cancer to think about.”

“What cancer?” Brooke scoffed. “You don’t have cancer. You’ve been in remission for over ten years.”

“There’s always a chance of a recurrence or a secondary cancer.”

“How does Rhys feel about it?” Brooke leaned in, resting her elbows on the counter. “You did tell him, didn’t you?”

Mallory nodded.

“How did he react?”

“We didn’t have much of a chance to discuss it. We were focused on Oliver. But his mother died from cancer, so…”

Brooke jabbed a finger across the counter at Mallory’s chest. “So you haven’t got any idea if it’s a deal breaker or not.”

“I can’t imagine he’s eager to jump into a long-term relationship with someone who’s got an expiration date.”

“We all have an expiration date, Mal. None of us come with a warranty.” The accusatory finger lowered, and Brooke covered Mallory’s hand with hers. “Keep looking for excuses, and you’re going to find them. Or you could look for solutions, and you might be surprised.”

“Anybody home?” The front lock clicked open and Eli’s voice bounced off the walls of the huge high-ceilinged apartment.

Brooke’s face lit up and she leaped off her stool. “In the kitchen, babe.”

Eli appeared a few seconds later in the doorway, a bag with what looked like the logo of a Chinese restaurant in one hand and a stack of mail in the other.

“Hey, sweetheart. Mallory.” He deposited both bag and mail on the counter before giving his sister-in-law a quick hug and his wife a long, lingering, almost embarrassing kiss. “I hope you’re in the mood for something spicy. I brought takeout from Szechuan Gourmet.”

“Sounds great. I’m starving.” Brooke’s stomach grumbled as if to emphasize her point. Her husband laughed and started unpacking the bags.

“Looks like we got a few more RSVPs,” he said, gesturing toward the pile of envelopes and catalogs.