Passion on Park Avenue (Central Park Pact #1)(46)

“Why do you do it?” he asked curiously. It was overstepping, but Serena was friendly and open in a way that Janice wasn’t.

Serena’s smile was sad. “My grandmother suffered from dementia. She helped raise me, and when she started to lose her memories, it was . . . rough. I decided pretty early on that I wanted to do whatever I could for those who went through what my grandma did. And for their families.”

“You’re a better person than me,” Oliver said, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“You’re doing just fine,” Serena said quietly. “Though if I might suggest something . . .”

He looked at her and waited.

“You need a break,” Serena said gently. “For his sake as well as your own. Your father needs you to have a clear head on his behalf. I’m scheduled to stay until nine tonight. Why don’t you go take an hour or two to yourself?”

He hesitated, thinking of his father’s instant, if unfounded, dislike of Serena.

“We’ll be fine,” she said, reading his thoughts.

“Maybe I’ll head home just for a few. I live right downstairs and can be up within seconds if you call.”

“Absolutely.” He knew she wouldn’t call unless it was an emergency.

“About tomorrow’s schedule, if you’re amenable, I’d like to work out a part-time, as-needed schedule, perhaps in the evenings. But I need to check something first. Can I let you know in a bit?”

“Of course,” she said with a smile. Then she nodded toward Walter, who’d started to doze off in his chair. “He seems rather attached to this Naomi person.”

“Yeah, he does, doesn’t he,” Oliver said wearily.

Irrationally so. Like father, like son.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he said to Serena. “I’ll have some answers on your schedule.”

She waved him away, and Oliver headed to the second floor of the building.

But not to his own apartment.





TUESDAY, OCTOBER 16

Naomi was somehow unsurprised to see Oliver Cunningham outside her peephole. She was surprised by the jump in her stomach at the mere sight of him. Like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Suddenly she was glad she’d taken the time to put on makeup and real clothes today, instead of the sweatpants and messy bun she’d been rocking for the past couple of days of working at home.

Naomi opened the door and for a long moment, neither of them said a thing.

“I’ll pay you,” he said, ending the charged silence.

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“To watch my father. I’ll pay you. He can’t stand his new caretaker, and that’s too damn bad because I’ll need her to stay with him at night, but during the day . . . does your offer still stand?”

She should say no. She should end this thing with the Cunninghams before it got any more complicated.

Instead, she stepped aside, wordlessly inviting him in.

“Have you eaten?” she asked, gesturing at the stove. “I was just making . . . well, making’s a strong word. I’m heating up a jar of tomato sauce and boiling water for pasta.”

He gave her a surprised look. “Did you just invite me to dinner?”

“Apparently,” she muttered, lifting the lid off the boiling water on the stove and adding a generous handful of salt as she’d seen on the Food Network, not the tiny pinch of salt her mom had added on the rare occasions she’d tried to cook.

“I don’t have to stay. I was just . . . my dad’s decided he likes you.”

“That surprises you?” she asked, taking a sip of the red wine she’d poured herself.

“Well, like I said, he doesn’t like many people.”

“Because of the illness?”

Oliver shrugged. “Because it’s him.”

She watched him for a moment, noticing the shadows under his eyes, the tired set of his shoulders.

“So,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Does your offer to watch my dad during the day still stand? Just until Janice gets back. And seriously, let me pay you.”

“I don’t need your money.”

Her voice was sharp, and he gave her a puzzled look. “I’m aware of that. But I’m also aware I can’t take advantage of your time.”

She sipped the wine and considered this.

“But there’s another part of the deal,” he said quietly.

“Aha.” She pointed at him in accusation.

He gave a faint smile. “I need you to decide.”

She gave him a startled look. “Decide what? What does that mean?”

“It means,” he said, coming around the counter to stand beside her, “that you can’t be swiping at me one moment and asking me to stay for dinner the next.”

“Are you telling me how to behave, Mr. Cunningham?” Naomi meant for her voice to be brisk and businesslike and was appalled to hear it come out a little breathy.

He was so close.

Oliver smiled slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’m not sure anyone would dare tell you how to behave. I’m simply warning you.”

“Warning me about what?”

His gaze dropped to her mouth before slowly lifting to her eyes once more. “That next time you look at me like you want me to kiss you, I will.”