Not Quite Perfect (Oakland Hills Book 3) (4 page)

“Mom was just telling us you used to babysit all the time during high school,” Liam said. “I didn’t know.”

“She was in very high demand,” Trixie said. “With a wait-list and everything. I felt like her agent, fielding the parent phone calls that would come in.”

April felt herself flush with pride. Back then, she’d loved being with babies. For a few years, she’d retreated from her own social life to babysit. Babies never asked stupid questions like
How’s your mother doing?
(meaning: now that your father is dead); or
Are you as smart as your brother Mark?
(meaning: obviously not); or
Is Liam going to come home and show everyone his gold medal?
(meaning: I hope he’ll have sex with me.)

“I made pretty good money,” April said, taking the mug of herbal tea her mother poured for her. “Used to joke about becoming a nanny if art school didn’t work out.”

The table fell silent.

“Nanny?” Liam asked.

They were all staring at her.

The tea caught in April’s mouth. “Joke. I was joking.”

After a moment, Liam said, “So, you said you were sick of temping…”

Chapter 3

A
PRIL
SHOOK
HER
HEAD
. “I’
M
happy to help out with Merry, no charge.”

“Great,” Liam said. “When can you start?”

“No, we couldn’t,” Bev said at the same time. “We’ll find a nanny. Just because we haven’t found one yet doesn’t mean we won’t.”

“We need help
now
,” Liam said. “You’re trying to keep up with business at Fite and the baby and it’s killing you. You can’t do it all.”

The new parents looked at each other. Then Bev turned to April. “We wouldn’t take advantage. We’d pay you—”

“No. I don’t want money to be with my own niece,” April said. The warm glow of baby infatuation was still thick in her heart. She couldn’t possibly turn that into a commercial transaction. “No,” she repeated, pulling the mug up to her face.

“I’m sorry,” Bev said. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“She’s being irrational,” Liam said. “April, look. You’ve got a skill. We require that skill. We’d be compensating you for being here with her instead of being at a paid job. Which, by the way, you don’t have. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise. Just because you’re related—”

“I don’t care about the money,” April said, struggling to keep her voice down because of Merry in the other room. She went over to the sink and washed out her mug, even though she wasn’t finished, just to have something to do with her hands.

“Fine,” Liam said. “Do it for free, then.”

“I will,” April said. When she wasn’t at Fite. Except he didn’t know she was at Fite, because she was really just a loser who’d gone to high school with the receptionist.

“No.” Bev stood up and walked over to look at the baby through the doorway. Her voice was soft but firm. “Even if it’s okay with you, it wouldn’t be okay with me. I can’t go back to work feeling guilty about that, too.”

Liam sighed. April felt flattered and disappointed at the same time. She wanted to be with Merry, but it was nice of Bev to try to protect her—even if, like Liam, Bev thought she knew better than April herself.

“There’s a beautiful solution staring us in the face,” Trixie said. She widened her smile when they all looked at her. “Surely you can see it, Liam. And you, Bev. You’re such a genius about the people side of business.”

Bev smiled but shook her head. “Help me out. I’m not running on all cylinders at the moment. I walked around with my breast hanging out all afternoon. Thank God nobody noticed.”

“Oh, I noticed—” Liam began, his grin disappearing as Bev’s open palm smacked him above the ear.

“It’s a simple solution.” Trixie stood up and carried the remaining mugs to the sink, humming under her breath. “Oh, April. We’re going to have so much fun. Until you have your own baby, of course. Then it’s not exactly fun, but I’ll do my best to help you. And Bev, if she isn’t busy with her second, if she has another”—she turned and gestured at Bev—“and I’m not pressuring you, because there’s nothing worse than people bothering you about your reproductive choices, but if you
did
have another as the same time as April, and wouldn’t that be wonderful—”

April grabbed her arm. “Whoh, Mom. Not pregnant. Not likely, either, because I’m not having sex again for a very long time, possibly ever.”

Liam put his hands over his ears. “I don’t want to know.”

Her mother sighed. “And I do, but she won’t tell me. Isn’t that just the way the world works?” She squeezed April’s shoulder. “Anyway, don’t you think it’s a great idea?”

“What? You haven’t told us,” April said.

“I’m sure Liam has put it all together, haven’t you, honey?” Trixie asked. Their mother had an annoying habit of knowing everything and nothing at the same time. The problem was, you never knew which one it was.

“Mom,” Liam replied, “when you act like this, I worry about what you’re going to be like when you’re old.”

“And a backhanded compliment to boot!” Trixie patted her short hair. “Sixty is the new forty, you know.”

Yawning loudly, Liam got to his feet and joined Bev in the doorway. April peeked between their bodies at the soft little pajama-clad feet sticking out from under the blanket in the car seat carrier.

Would it really be so bad? “I was planning on taking a break from temping anyway,” April said quietly. What she meant was, she couldn’t keep sneaking into Fite.

“Like I said, it’s perfect,” Trixie said. “You and Liam and Bev can take turns watching Merry and working at Fite, depending on what hours Liam can arrange for you, though of course he’ll have to consult people.”

“Mother,” Liam said in a low voice. “Explain. Please. I’m too tired to translate right now.”

“All that talent won’t be going to waste anymore,” Trixie said. “Artists aren’t nearly as common as people think.”

Bev’s eyes widened. “Oh, I get it.” She smiled at April. “That’s a great idea!”

Trixie just smiled, eyes twinkling. “First Liam has to agree to the plan.”

He groaned. “I don’t even—”

“He agrees,” Bev said, putting an arm around him and sinking against his side with a yawn. “Don’t you, honey?”

“Ouch!” he cried. “Did you just pinch me?”

“Sorry. Your mom has a great idea,” Bev said. “Say you agree.”

“This is like a bad dream. Nothing makes any sense.” He rubbed his face with his free hand. “If I say I agree, will you both leave so we can get some sleep?”

“Yes,” Trixie said. “Fantastic. April, let’s go. Tomorrow morning you can figure out the details—when you’re here with the baby, when you’re at Fite. And you get paid for both, because it’s the only way that everyone will be happy.”

“When who’s at Fite?” Liam asked. Then scowled. “No. I can’t have any more family on the books, I told you—”

“Nothing could be more perfect than having your talented, underemployed, hungry—as in eager, driven, capable—sister under the Fite umbrella,” Trixie said. “Don’t you think so, Bev? It is your company.”

“What do
you
think?” Bev asked April. “We’d be taking advantage of you from both sides, work and home. Baby and business.”

A theoretical day blossomed in April’s imagination: half at home with Merry, half in San Francisco pursing a real art career.

“As owner,” Bev continued, “I declare it a fantastic idea. And I’m sure Liam agrees with me.”

“She’d be our nanny
and
work at Fite?” Liam asked.

“Yes,” Bev said, kissing him on the cheek. “Maybe you’ll finally get some sleep so you can follow a simple conversation again.” She turned to April. “We’ll have to get a permanent nanny when Merry’s older, but we haven’t found anyone we like enough yet. Will you help us in the meantime? Are you even interested?”

April sank into a chair. “Oh,” she whispered, just like Merry had. “Oh, oh, oh.”

* * *

“Incredible,” Rita, the manager of Fite Fitness’s graphics department, said. “You’ve done this before, right?”

April looked down at the printout of the variegated stripe design in black and neon-orange she held out.
Just last week, actually
. “I’ve had a little exposure here and there to software like this. But I have a lot to learn.”

“That’s all right. I don’t know why Liam didn’t ask you to work for us earlier. I’ve been complaining about the freelancers all year.” Rita tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, exposing large silver hoops and a tiny butterfly tattoo on her neck.

April smiled. “Baby on the brain.”

Rita peered at the design. “Or he’s just being an asshole again.” Her gaze shot up to April, and her pale face lost what little color it had naturally. “Please forget I said that. I have a foul mouth. I love your brother.”

“I love him, too,” April said, “even though he is, quite often, a total flaming doofus.”

Rita smiled and cringed at the same time. After an awkward pause, she took the printout and pointed at the stripe in the middle. “Can you vary the width on these a little bit? I can show you how if—”

“How much?” April asked.

“Well, I’m just guessing what the designer is going to say, but… maybe reduce to a half inch.”

“No problem.” April had been relieved her first project was just a stripe design for a T-shirt. Stripes were incredibly easy. She’d been trying to figure out how to do all-over designs the week before, until she’d realized the software for complex textile designs must be on a workstation she hadn’t hacked into yet. The first one had been easy because some freelancer had left a sticky note with his name and password next to the phone. No such luck with the other computer.

The moral question of recruiting her other brother, Mark the computer genius, to help her hack into it had kept her up at night. When she’d decided he wouldn’t do it anyway, she’d started using the Internet to research common office security gaps—common passwords, human habits (like writing down their secrets on yellow paper next to the keyboard), administrative overrides. Years of being an interloper at somebody else’s desk through temping had taught her a lot of those tricks already. Many Monday mornings, she’d waited hours until somebody with time or a brain could help her log on to the company’s network. Boredom, even when paid by the hour, got old pretty fast.

Today, however, she could sit down at her own desk—well, she wouldn’t have to share it unless the workload got so busy they had to hire another freelancer—and type in her own name and password. No corporate crimes necessary.

Knowing it was terribly obvious, she’d chosen
Merryis#1
as her password. Smiling to herself, she typed it in, thinking she was probably the third person in the company to do so.

“Rita?”

April turned around to see a young woman with long brown hair in a tight black dress hurry past, waving a sheet of paper.

“Hi, Teegan,” Rita said, rising to meet her.

“I’m really sorry, but Jennifer says this is totally, totally terrible,” Teegan said.

April suppressed a retort.
Terrible? Like, dying from famine terrible?
She peeked over her shoulder. She knew that holding her temper with some of these melodramatic chicks was going to be a challenge.

“Something not working?” Rita asked.

Teegan waved the paper. “Look at the colors.”

The words
FITE FITNESS
filled the page in a rainbow of color. “Yes?” Rita asked politely.

“It’s a rainbow,” Teegan said.

“The request sheet asked for multiple colors,” Rita said.

“But not
those
colors.”

“The request sheet didn’t specify.”

Teegan made a face. “Jennifer said she told you.”

“What colors would you like?” Rita asked.

“The ones in the New York line. The palette is on the boards in the conference room.”

“Which conference room?” Rita asked.

“The one off the lobby.”

“When do you need it?”

“We needed it this morning.” Teegan’s voice tightened to a faint whine. “When can you do it?”

Rita gestured to April. “We’ll do it right now. This is April, our new freelancer, she’s just—”

“Great. I’ve got to run.” Teegan hurried away, and the door knocked shut behind her.

“The assistants tend to be a little high-strung.” Rita followed her, giving April an eye roll, and reopened the door. “We’re supposed to leave all the doors open while the consultant is here.”

April took a sudden interest in her monitor, hiding her face. She’d pumped Bev for information about the guy—his name (Zack Fain), how long he was staying (six months), if he was single (I thought you were never having sex again, April.)

“I wonder when he’ll grace us with his presence,” Rita continued. “I hear he’s been shadowing Engineering all week.”

April hadn’t told Bev that Fite’s new business consultant had watched her run out of the office like a looter stealing a high-end TV. She still didn’t know what to say if she saw him.
Just kidding, I really do work here
was one possibility.
I bet you’re a lot cuter out of that suit
was another. Not that she would say that. She wasn’t going near a naked man until she had her life figured out.

“Will you go get the swatches for me?” Rita asked. “I’ll have to rush to get everything done before my lunch date. ”

“Date?”

“Don’t look happy for me. It’s just with my dentist.”

“Sorry,” April said.

“It’s okay. He gives me nitrous oxide. Which is why I need to get everything done this morning. I love that stuff. Thank God you can’t buy it at Costco. Did you hear what Teegan called the group? New York, first-floor conference—”

“On my way,” April said, striding off.

She took the stairs down to the lobby and waved at Virginia behind the desk.

Virginia still hadn’t forgiven her for almost getting her into trouble with the business consultant, convinced she’d almost lost her job.

She’d come around. In fact, she wouldn’t have the job at all without April’s help. When, months ago, Virginia had asked April to put a word in for her with Bev and Liam about a job, April had been skeptical—Virginia knew video games, not fashion—but she’d helped her out. In return, Virginia had smuggled her into the art room before hours without telling anyone.