“You may need to explain it for Teddy’s benefit,” Jerry says, but I detect a faint whiff of face-saving. Perhaps Jerry can’t remember why he added PDC to his sold-sticker collection. I click into brochure mode.

“Providence has been consistently listed in the country’s top ten retirement complexes since it was built in the late 1960s. We really pride ourselves on the boutique feel. In this area, there’s a saying: ‘With any luck I’ll retire in Providence.’ They’re saying that this is the ultimate goal to aspire to.”

Jerry isn’t really listening. “And you live on-site here, correct?”

“Yes, sir. It’s part of my salary package. There’s a dual-occupancy cottage that used to be for on-site security and maintenance. I am here twenty-four, seven for the residents.”

“For how long?” Teddy asks.

Is he not very bright? Oh dear. Beauty fades. “Sorry, how do you mean? All day and all night.” I shimmy out of my hot cardigan.

Teddy says, “No, how long have you been living here, twenty-four, seven?”

“Oh. The whole time. Six years.”

Teddy is as dumbstruck as that moment when I turned around and revealed my true age at the gas station. “Do you go anywhere?”

“Providence is a great employer. I visit my parents when I take my vacation. And I go to the gas station,” I add with a pinch of dryness. “It doesn’t matter where I go. It matters that I’m always here.”

“That sounds absolutely— ” Teddy is silenced by his father’s sideways look.

“It sounds like true long-term commitment to a job,” Jerry finishes. “It sounds like someone who chose a role and stuck with it. Someone who doesn’t go chasing after the next shiny thing.”

Teddy argues back, “I’m not doing that. I’ll prove it to you when we open.”

“Sure, we’ll see.” Jerry looks at me with a small smile. “It’s rare I meet someone as dedicated as you, Ruthie. I can always tell when someone’s only in it for the paycheck.”

I am sick with pleasure from this praise. I’m also conflicted, because Jerry’s blunt dismissal has hurt his son. “Thank you. I love it here. Would you both like a tour of the grounds?”

Jerry says, “Teddy needs somewhere to stay for a month or two. He’s been kicked out by his roommates and has run out of couches. It wouldn’t look great for a Prescott to be sleeping in a cardboard box. He’s going to take the other half of your cottage.”

“It’s a little musty.” My stomach flips over in surprise. We’ll be sharing a wall.

“I’m stashing him here for a few months. Just enough time for him to get back on his feet. Save some money. Sort yourself out, Teddy. If you could get me the keys, Ruthie, we can walk up and find it. Maybe you could give it a little once-over with a feather duster for him.”

This morning we were completely off the radar to PDC. While swooping in to rescue his hapless, walletless son, Jerry has remembered we exist. And now I have to clean. I manage to say blandly, “Sure, that’s no problem.”

Teddy is affronted, possibly on my behalf. “I can clean it myself.” He holds out a hand for the cottage key, but his father does too. I know who my boss is.

Jerry takes it and says, “While you live here, Teddy, you’re going to help out here in the office.”

I keep my eyes neutral. I can’t transmit how deeply, desperately I do not want this.

“She doesn’t want me to,” Teddy says. Am I a completely open book to him? Scary.

“Of course she does,” Jerry rebuffs. “I think learning on the site will be a good way to get you interested in our business. You can adapt it to your latest venture, if you want,” he adds unconvincingly.

Teddy sighs. “I’m not a property developer. I’m a tattoo artist. I’ll never be on PDC’s payroll.” The compulsive inking is explained. Tattoos, motorbikes, floating on the breeze, completely unconcerned about his next meal or next bed? No wonder he keeps staring at me like I’m microscopic.

Jerry eyes Melanie thoughtfully. “Have you signed a contract?”

I answer for her. “Yes, two months, and I’ve already trained her.” No way am I sitting across from the boss’s son while he dicks around doing quizzes online for eight hours a day. I’ve got Mel for that. She blinks at me, expression grateful. Teddy’s looking roughly the same. “We’ve got a maintenance contractor, a gardener … we’re all set.”

“Anything else?” Jerry refocuses like a laser on me. “Any other odd jobs around here he could do?” Jerry really wants to put a big tick in his Teddy Project column. “Ruthie, you just mentioned filling up a resident’s car with gas. That sounds like a job.”

I feel like my brain’s cogs are clunking too slowly. It’s the stress. I can barely remember my own name or pull in a deep breath.

What to do? A job for Teddy … what could be done … ?

“That was for the Parlonis,” Melanie offers helpfully. “They need a lot of help. Wait a minute,” she begins slowly, turning to me. Her young cogs are faster than mine. “They’re hiring for an assistant. He can work for them.”

I felt small and ridiculous at the gas station, when Teddy Prescott roared with laughter over every single aspect of my appearance. Now it’s time for a little payback. “Perfect; well done, Mel. Would you like to see the job ad, Teddy? It’s mainly driving, errands, and cleaning.” It will also be the strangest, most demeaning experience of your life.

“Perfect,” Jerry echoes, and I think he’s feeling some Teddy payback too.

Teddy is regarding me with suspicion because I’m filled with evil glee. “I think these residents should interview me first. I don’t want special treatment.”

Jerry can’t argue with that. “Put in a proper effort. I’ll take a walk. Always nice to actually set foot on one of our assets.” When he steps out onto the path and turns away, I see that his profile is just like his son’s.

I wish Jerry wouldn’t walk around here without me. He’s going to get ideas, I just know it. Life is change, after all. But I have to make him understand how important this place is, and I have to report to Sylvia that I tried really hard.

On impulse I follow him out and say, “Mr. Prescott? Sorry, Jerry? Would I be able to join you?”

“I’d rather you go with Teddy to the interview. I know you want some job certainty,” he adds. He looks exhausted now as he looks up the hill. “I can’t even remember when we acquired this place.”

“You’re a busy person.”

“Too busy. My daughter Rose is ready for more responsibility. I’m going to ask her to conduct a full site review and recommend to the board how we proceed. I’ll ask her to call you.” He seems pleased with this solution.

“I’ll provide her with any information she needs.” I know that it’s going to take more than reports to convince them to leave Providence as it is. What opportunity do I have to showcase what an impact we have on our residents? How can I make him fall in love with the place? “I don’t suppose you’d like to come to the Christmas party this year? I do the fund-raising for it and we have a lot of fun. We have a theme, and … it’s just a great example of what we do here.”

Jerry is charmed. “Send through the details to my assistant. If I’m available, sure. Why not? Sounds like a good time.” He sets off up the path. “Send an invitation to Rose as well, please. She needs to learn to get out of the office and meet people. I doubt Teddy will still be here then. But until he leaves, can you keep an eye out for him, and help him settle in?”

I have to reply: “Of course.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Back inside the office, Teddy and Mel are getting along like a house on fire. I dial the Parlonis and when it’s eventually answered, there’s a loud TV blaring in the background. “What?” Renata yells so loud that Teddy hears her from where he’s standing. “Who died?”

“I have a new boy here for an interview.” Applying the word boy to these tight muscles is laughable. But then again, he did just come in here with his dad like he was applying for a paper route.

“I thought we were going to get our diapers changed by a nurse,” Renata barks. “I was about to start wetting myself. What’s he like?” I hear loud chewing. “What category?”

She means, is he:

? Droopy Goth

? Brain-Dead Skateboarder

? Prima Donna

? Talentless Musician

? Idealistic Youth

? Many other categories I can’t remember right now because a handsome man is staring at me like I am interesting

What category? All I know is, his eyes are like a golden bonnet tortoise shell. Brown, green, and yellow. Exceedingly rare, found only right here. My gaze starts on his T-shirt sleeve, and before I know it, I’m moving down that forearm to his wrist. I’m ravenous to see more of this perfectly executed living art. Under my eyes, his hand flexes like I’ve touched him. Without much air, I say, “He’s in the tattoo category.”

“You know that’s only a subcategory,” Renata says.