Hooking a Handyman Read online

  Zoey sank back onto the bed. “How has no one ever covered this part of your history in a human-interest story? This is television gold.”

  Harry slung his tool bag onto his shoulder with a chuckle. “Ms. Emily warned me you work in the news.”

  Zoey immediately smiled. “I’m in between jobs right now so I promise your story is safe with me. Honestly, I’m not actually surprised about Nana’s role in all this. Taking care of a teenage kid she thought needed some extra love sounds exactly like something she would do. But the fact that you’re still around, that even with all you must have going on, you still come to her house to do something as random as installing shelves? It says a lot about your character. I mean, you could hire someone else to take care of her odd jobs. I’m sure you have the resources.”

  “That isn’t what it’s about though.” Harry leaned against the wall and crossed his feet at the ankle, his arms folded across his chest. “If I hired someone else, or if she did, I wouldn’t get to see her. Ms. Emily feels like family. Even when she doesn’t have anything for me to do around the house, I still come and see her every couple of weeks.”

  Zoey shook her head, a baffled look on her face. “Are you even being for real right now?”

  Harry cocked his head in question.

  Zoey motioned to him with her hand. “You look like this. You do what you do. And you visit an elderly widow every couple of weeks? You cannot be for real.”

  Harry grinned. He liked flirty Zoey.

  “I genuinely can’t believe that Nana has been your friend all this time,” she continued, “and her family never knew. That she never knew who you were before now.”

  “Actually, I’d argue the opposite. She knows exactly who I am. Which is why I love hanging out with her so much. I’m much happier as Harry, around friends, than I am as Harrison Beckford on television.”

  Zoey studied him for a long minute. “Fair enough.”

  “How long are you in town for?” Harry asked.

  The light in Zoey’s eyes dimmed. “A few months, I guess.” She gave her head a little shake. “Sorry. I made that sound awful. I’m so happy to be here with Nana. She’s one of the most important people in my life. I’m just still reeling from losing my job.”

  “In Chicago, right? You were a morning news anchor?”

  Zoey’s eyes widened, and Harry grinned.

  “Sorry. Ms. Emily has been talking you up the past few weeks. Though, I admit, you aren’t what I expected.”

  Zoey narrowed her eyes, a hint of a blush filling her cheeks. “How so?”

  Harry motioned to his head. “She showed me a picture. You were wearing this navy blazer and your hair—”

  “No,” Zoey said, cutting him off. “Was it a promotional photo? From Channel 11?”

  Harry nodded. “That’s the one.”

  Zoey groaned. “Oh, why, Nana? That photo was taken when I first got the job. I think I was trying to dress the part, maybe? Make myself look older? I swear that picture is going to haunt me to my grave. Is that seriously the only photo she showed you?”

  Harry grinned. “Zoey, there are photos of you all over Ms. Emily’s house. Plus, I googled you.” He shrugged playfully. “Really I just wanted to tease you.”

  “I’m seriously at a disadvantage here,” Zoey said good-naturedly. “How come I didn’t get advance lead time to consult with Google?”

  Harry frowned, but quickly wiped the expression from his face. Google hadn’t always been good to him. The tabloids had been vicious in their coverage of his semi-recent divorce. “Maybe don’t consult Google when it comes to me. Or, if you do, try not to believe everything you read.”

  For the second time since they’d started talking, Zoey studied him, really studied him, like she was weighing everything he said with careful consideration. Was it just that she was a journalist? Logically, that was probably it. But Harry’s optimistic side hoped it might be because she was starting to like him a little bit.

  “What else did she tell you about me?” Zoey finally asked, her gaze trained on him.

  In truth, Zoey was almost all Ms. Emily had talked about the past few weeks. She’d been at a disadvantage, since her speech was still slow and had taken a lot more effort than usual. But she’d still managed to give her granddaughter a pretty glowing recommendation. “She said you hate olives,” Harry said, his tone serious.

  “She did? That’s random.”

  “She didn’t actually say that. But you look like a sane, reasonable person which means you must hate olives.”

  Zoey smiled. “Olives are revolting in all forms, especially on pizza,” she said. “What did Nana actually tell you?”

  “She told me you are as smart as you are beautiful. Which the olives obviously confirm. And that you like children.”

  “All true things,” Zoey said with a grin.

  “Did she tell you anything about me?” Harry asked, feeling bold.

  Zoey chuckled. “I don’t know if you want to know.”

  Harry raised an eyebrow.

  “She told me I shouldn’t hold it against you that you don’t have a fancy job, that you do honest work and there’s nothing wrong with working with your hands.”

  Harry laughed. “Wow. What an endorsement.”

  “Oh, she sang your praises, too. Said she was sure I would think you’re perfect.”

  The fact that Ms. Emily had said so many nice things about him without knowing anything about his fame or his wealth made him happy. Zoey had clearly known who he was when they’d met, but he liked that she’d first learned of him, learned that her grandmother thought he was great, before she realized who he actually was. He never knew which way meeting new people was going to go these days. Half the people he met only wanted to ask him for renovation advice and talk about the possibility of being on his show. The other half generally cared a lot more about his money than they did his actual personality. Finding people that he could be real with? His celebrity made it tough.

  But Zoey seemed pretty real. And she was beautiful. And her grandmother’s recommendation said a lot about her character in Harry’s mind. He imagined the words he might say if he were to ask her out. Was it too soon? Would it be too awkward? Would she be around long enough for it to even be worth it?

  “So you’re in between jobs now, I guess?”

  Zoey nodded. “The station where I anchored the morning news went bankrupt and we all lost our jobs.”

  “Ouch. But there are other news stations in Chicago, right?”

  “For sure, but it’s a competitive industry. I’m doing my best to stay connected even though I’m gone for a few months. I’d love to do evening news somewhere—the schedule is so much better—but those jobs are even more competitive.”

  “I’m sure it’s hard to step away, particularly when you could be networking, jobhunting.”

  “Oh, I’m still networking. And jobhunting. Every day. Maybe multiple times a day. I might not be in Chicago in person, but I’m trying to at least stay on top of what’s happening at the biggest stations.”

  “Sounds like you’re making quite a sacrifice to be here.”

  She quickly shook her head. “No. Nana’s worth it. Besides, everyone else in the family has a job. The fact that I’m just looking for one makes me the obvious choice to be live-in caregiver. They’ve got jobs, pets, babies, obligations.” She lifted her hands into a shrug. “I’m just me.”

  “Don’t make light of it. You moved halfway across the country. I’m sure Ms. Emily appreciates you being here. How is she, anyway?” Harry asked. “It seems like her speech is a little better today.”

  “You probably know more than I do about that,” Zoey said. “I only got here yesterday. Her spirits seem good, and Cassandra told me she’s cooperating with her physical therapy, but she’s not very good at resting. She hates relying on other people.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

  “Harry?” Ms. Emily’s voice called out from the living room.<
br />
  Harry smiled. “Speaking of.” He held out his hand, motioning toward the doorway. “After you.”

  He followed Zoey back to the living room where Ms. Emily shooed Cassandra out of her chair and motioned for Harry to come sit beside her. When he lowered himself into the chair, she reached out and took his hand. “Have you found anyone to watch your children yet?”

  Harry’s eyes flew to Zoey. He usually didn’t mention the kids until the end of the first date. Though, if she did Google him, she’d learn all about them anyway.

  “Um, no. I’m still working on it. I’ve been taking them to my sister’s house.”

  Ms. Emily raised her eyebrows. “Charlotte has four kids of her own. That’s an awful lot to ask of her, isn’t it?”

  Harry’s jaw tightened. Ms. Emily was right, something his sister reminded him of on a daily basis. But he couldn’t just hire the first willing person with a driver’s license to watch his kids. He’d been working with an agency, but the last two people they’d sent over hadn’t worked out and he hesitated to risk it a third time. It’s possible he was overthinking it, setting an unrealistic standard. But being a single dad was tough. He lived in constant fear that he was screwing his children up. “You sound like Charlotte,” Harry finally said. “She’s always reminding me how hard it is. I’m working on it though. I promise.”

  Ms. Emily looked across the room at Zoey. “While you work on it . . .” The w’s in Ms. Emily’s words were particularly slurred and she paused, closing her eyes and lifting a hand to her jaw, as if she could stabilize her speech from the outside. She opened her eyes, determination in her gaze. “Zoey could always pitch in and help out.”

  Suddenly Harry realized what was happening. Ms. Emily was too good to leave he and Zoey getting together to chance. She was going to shove them together.

  “Nana, I can’t—”

  Ms. Emily cut off Zoey’s words but continued to address Harry. “You only need someone to watch them during the day.” Another swallow, another touch to her jaw. “And Zoey is experienced. She’s been a nanny before.”

  Harry raised an eyebrow. That was useful information. But then, just because Zoey had been a nanny before didn’t mean she’d want to be a nanny now. She had a career in something else. The nannying was likely something that had happened a long time ago.

  Charlotte really would love a break from having two extra kids every day though. And Zoey was in between jobs.

  “It was a part-time thing,” Zoey said. “While I was in college. Afternoons after school, and then some during the summer. That hardly qualifies me. Besides, I’m only here temporarily.”

  Ms. Emily scoffed. “But that’s all Harry needs, isn’t it?” She looked at him, a question in her gaze. “Until you can find something more permanent? That would give Charlotte the break she deserves.” She looked back at Zoey. “You said yourself you were going to need to look for something part-time. This is perfect. Harry needs a nanny. You need a job.”

  “When I said I thought I’d need to find a job, I was thinking of something more along the lines of fact-checking for one of the local news networks, or, I don’t know, transcribing interviews. Things I could largely do while I’m here with you.”

  “Pssh,” Ms. Emily said. “Why? Cassandra is here. I bet Harry would pay more than you’d get for fact-checking anyway.”

  The more Harry thought on the plan, the more he liked it. He trusted Emily as much as he trusted anyone in his own family. If she thought Zoey could do the job, he believed that she could. Plus, it wouldn’t be the worst thing spending a little more time with her, would it?

  “I could use the help,” he said to Zoey. “At least until school starts up. And it wouldn’t be full-time. We shoot early every day, so I’m normally home by four. Would you consider it?”

  Zoey looked from him, then to Ms. Emily, then back to Harry. “I’ll consider it. But I don’t come cheap, Harrison Beckford. Let’s go meet your kids. Then you can decide how much I’m worth.”

  Chapter 3

  “Right now?” Harry asked, hope lighting his eyes.

  Zoey shrugged. “Cassandra will be here another few hours. Why not?”

  Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. That would be great, actually. I can show you around the house, run you through the kids’ basic schedule. Then you can decide from there if you think it’s something that will work for you.”

  “I’ll grab my bag.” Zoey retrieved her purse from her bedroom, noting Nana’s satisfied grin as she passed back through the living room. She’d expected Nana to have opinions about her love life, or lack thereof, but she hadn’t expected her to actually meddle. This was meddling at its finest. And yet, part-time nannying didn’t sound like such a bad gig. She did like being around kids, and she imagined Harry would pay her more than a decent wage. Plus, it might mean getting to see more of Harry himself, which, even just for the view, Zoey wouldn’t mind.

  Zoey leaned over and kissed Nana on the cheek. “How long have you been planning this, you sneak?” she whispered, her tone teasing. Harry was nowhere in sight.

  Nana smirked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Zoey rolled her eyes and stood up, pausing when Nana caught her hand. “Give him a chance, Zoey,” she said haltingly. Zoey thought there was more she wanted to say, but she only squeezed her hand before closing her eyes and leaning her head back against her chair.

  Zoey said goodbye to Cassandra, reminding her that she was only a quick call away, and then went to find Harry.

  He was waiting for her in the entryway.

  “How old are your kids?” Zoey asked as she approached.

  “Hannah is five—she’s the oldest—and Oliver is three. They both start school next month; Hannah will be in kindergarten and Oliver will start preschool at the same time. Their schedule will change then, but for now, things are pretty low key.”

  Zoey had all kinds of questions running through her mind. Harry was single; Nana never would have insinuated that the two of them should date if he wasn’t. So that made him . . . divorced? Widowed, maybe? The thought made her stomach lurch. Maybe he’d never been married, he was just a really responsible co-parent?

  A vague memory surfaced in Zoey’s mind—headlines she’d read from the tabloids in grocery checkout lines a while back. It was a divorce; she was almost positive. Was his ex still around? So far, he’d made no mention of a mom being present in his kids’ lives, no mention of a need to coordinate with anyone else’s schedule. It sounded a lot more like he was handling parenthood on his own. Her heart went out to the guy. No matter the circumstances that landed him there, that couldn’t be easy.

  Zoey glanced at her watch. “I’ll have to be back by five o’clock. Is three hours enough time?”

  Harry nodded and opened the front door, holding it open for her. “My sister only lives a few minutes away and my place is around the block from that.”

  Zoey paused in Nana’s driveway, watching as Harry loaded his tools into his truck. It was parked on the street, directly in front of Nana’s house. How had Zoey missed it when she’d come home from the store in the first place? “Hey, I can grab Nana’s keys and follow you over if that would be easier,” she said. “That way you won’t have to bring me back home.”

  Harry shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Honestly. It’s less than ten minutes. We can talk about the kids on the way over.”

  Something fluttered in Zoey’s gut at the thought of sharing the cab of Harry’s truck with him. Don’t be weird. Just don’t be weird.

  “Okay.” She moved to the passenger side door and climbed in. The truck was enormous, the cab clean and roomy, with a full bench seat in the back. Two car seats took up either side of the backseat and a collection of stuffed animals and books, as well as a discarded hoodie and one random shoe filled the floorboards and the space between the seats.

  Harry followed her gaze. “Sorry about the mess. The kids are always tossing things around in h
ere.”

  “Don’t even worry about it,” Zoey said. “I think it’s great.”

  “So, um, Ms. Emily’s pretty relentless, isn’t she?” He combed his fingers through his dark hair. It was longish on top and kind of wavy, and when he pushed it over to the side, it curled, just slightly, onto his forehead.

  Zoey squelched a laugh. “That’s one word for it. I think she’s made her mind up about what she wants. We’re the pawns in her grand plan.”

  Harry shot her a sideways glance. “You’re not going to hear me complain about it.”

  Oh wow. That was flirting. That was definitely flirting. Zoey cleared her throat and tossed him a knowing look. “So, the kids.”

  “Right. Yes. They’re great. Really. I know I’m biased because I’m their dad, but they’re just stellar humans. Stellar miniature, slightly sticky humans.”

  Zoey swallowed. “And their mom?”

  Harry answered without hesitation. “Their mom isn’t in the picture. She lives on the East Coast, so she won’t be around at all.”

  Zoey’s reporter brain started buzzing. So many questions hid inside those few short statements. Why did the kids’ mom live on the East Coast? How long had she lived there? Did the kids ever see her? But none of that was Zoey’s business—she briefly wondered if Google could tell her anything but searching for him suddenly felt like a rotten thing to do—so she swallowed her questions and nodded along as Harry talked about the kids and their generally easy schedule. No one could accuse this guy of overscheduling them. It seemed like they lived a pretty chill life.

  “So the days I’m shooting, we generally wrap up around three or four every afternoon. I aim for getting home around four thirty at the latest, which should give you plenty of time to get back to Ms. Emily’s before Cassandra leaves.” Harry turned the truck off of the main road onto a street not that different from the one where Nana lived. The houses were maybe a touch larger, but it had the same general feel. Midcentury, eclectic homes, palm trees, sidewalks lined with succulents. “That is, if you decide you want to do it.”