“Almost five,” Crissy pipes up. “And vampires are real. I saw one in California when I was a baby. Mama thinks I forgot about it, but I didn’t.”
Natalie’s focus shifts sharply back to her daughter. “What?”
“The man with blood on his face. In our apartment. I remember, Mommy,” she says in a soft, spooked voice that sends a knife straight into my heart. That poor kid. And poor Natalie. Did some guy break into their house? She mentioned they lived in a bad part of town in San Francisco, but I never imagined it might have been that bad.
“Inside,” Natalie whispers. “Now.”
“I’m sorry, Mommy,” Crissy says, her big hazel eyes filling with tears. “I didn’t mean to remember. I just can’t forget.”
“I’m not mad at you, honey,” Nat says, shooing her daughter through the door. “It’s okay. Let’s talk inside.”
“The sins of the mother,” Mrs. Greer says ominously.
I reach out, keeping the door from closing as Nat and Crissy disappear into the apartment, then turn back to the other woman. “You don’t even know her. Natalie’s a good person and a single mom who’s busting her ass to give her daughter the best life possible. Maybe ease up and give her a break? Or find a hobby other than sticking your nose in other people’s business? I hear that’s an option thousands of people choose every day. To just…see something they’re not happy about, but keep their mouth shut about it because it’s none of their business.”
The woman’s puckered mouth gapes into an O of surprise, but before her outraged huff can become something more, I step into Nat’s apartment, shutting the door behind me.
Inside, I’m treated to exactly what I was expecting—an explosion of vibrant color. Bright yellow walls surround a blue couch and an oversized pink armchair in the small living room and Crissy’s artwork is all over the large fridge in the kitchen on the far side of the room. More framed artwork decorates the walls and a bookshelf filled with books, ceramics, and bins of toys dominates the center of the space, between the two large windows.
In the kitchen, a woman with blond braids in an oversized gray sweater is packing the remains of breakfast in glass containers. Her brows shoot up at the sight of me, but she recovers quickly, lifting a hand and saying, “Hi, I’m Hannah. The nanny. Good to meet you.”
“Cameron, good to meet you, too,” I say, forcing a smile, though the sight of Natalie sitting on the end of the couch with a teary Crissy in her lap has my stomach churning.
I take an awkward step into the apartment and pause. “Nat, if you want me to go, I can. It’s not a big deal.”
“No, I don’t want you to go,” she says, glancing up, revealing tears shining in her eyes, as well. “We’re going to be fine. Right, Crissy? I promise Cam isn’t like that bad man who broke into our apartment. He’s a really nice guy and he works at the restaurant with me. I’ve already met his friends, and they’re super nice, so I wanted him to meet you. That’s why he came home with me. So I could introduce you two and we could all go to a toy fair together today.”
“And I’m not a vampire, I promise,” I say, baring my teeth. “See?” I point at my incisors. “Just normal human stuff in there.”
Crissy peers up at me, shier now that she’s apparently decided I’m not an imminent, pointy-toothed threat to her mother.
“And my friend Evie is saving her coolest puppet for you,” I add with a smile that feels shy on my face, too. I just don’t want to fuck this up any more than I have already. The last thing I want to do is scare a little kid, especially one who happens to be the daughter of the woman I’m falling hard for. “She didn’t tell us what it was, but she’s super cool. Whatever it is, I bet it’s going to be awesome.”
Crissy’s brows lift. “A dinosaur?”
“Maybe,” I say. “Or a flamingo. Do you like flamingos?”
She nods and points toward the kitchen. “I drew one last week. It has a nose piercing like Hannah’s.”
Hannah laughs. “A little bigger than mine, but yeah. It’s awesome. Crissy is a crazy good artist.”
“Could you show me?” I ask. “I can’t draw to save my life, but I love to look at other people’s drawings and paintings.”
Crissy grins, revealing dimples in the exact same places as her mom’s, sending a different kind of stabbing sensation through my chest. This time, I’m pretty sure it’s longing I’m feeling as she hops off Nat’s lap and hurries over to grab my hand. “Yes, I’ll show you, but you have to take your shoes off first. We don’t wear shoes in the house because city germs are gross.”