Poor Babysitter Was Hired By A Mafia Boss To Care For His Daughter, Then He Fell For Her – Ty

You’re going to nail this. It’s just babysitting. You’ve been doing this since you were 16.  Yes?  Hi, I’m Sable Reeves. I have an interview at 3:00 for the babysitting position. You’re late. It’s 2:58. I thought the interview was at 3:00.  In this house, 3:00 means 2:45. Come in. Don’t track dirt on the marble.

I’m Mrs. Elsie Whitfield. I’m the house manager. You can call me Mrs. Whitfield. Not Elsie. Not ma’am. Mrs. Whitfield.  Yes, Mrs. Whitfield. Thank you for having me.  I didn’t have you. Mr. Ashford did. I’m merely the gatekeeper. You’re younger than the others. How old are you?  26.  Married?  No.

Boyfriend?  I don’t see how that’s relevant to babysitting.  Everything is relevant in this house. Follow me. Thea, the new girl is here.  Another one? What happened to the last one?  She decided to pursue other opportunities.  She cried a lot. Are you going to cry?  Not planning on it. I don’t cry easily.

The last one said that, too. Then Dad yelled at her about the laundry and she cried in the pantry for 20 minutes.  I’m not really a crier. More of a yeller, if we’re being honest. But I usually save that for bad drivers and people who take the last slice of pizza.  [laughter]  Thea, go wash your face. You’re filthy.

It’s chocolate from my cookie. Want to see my room? It’s way better than this boring room.  Maybe later, sweetie. I think I need to talk to your dad first.  Dad’s busy. He’s always busy. But he said he’d meet you at 3:00. He’s really strict about time, so don’t be late. And don’t call him sir. He hates that.

Makes him feel old.  Mr. Ashford will see you in his study. This way. And remember, in this house, children are seen and not heard. Nannies are neither seen nor heard unless spoken to. Got it.  Invisible nanny. My superpower.  Come. Sit.  Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Ashford. I’m Sable Reeves.

I have 5 years of professional nannying experience, plus I worked at a daycare for 2 years before that.  I have references from three families, CPR certification, and I can cook meals that don’t come from a microwave.  Where do you live?  The Mission District. 28th and Valencia.  How did you get here?  I drove.

Is your car reliable?  Yes, it’s very reliable. It gets me where I need to go.  I don’t tolerate tardiness. If you’re supposed to be here at 7:00, you better be here at 6:55. If Thea has school at 8:30, you’re backing out of the driveway at 8:15. My daughter’s schedule is not a suggestion, it’s a commandment.

I understand. I’m very punctual.  The last four nannies said the same thing. They lasted on average 6 weeks. Why do you think that is?  I don’t know. Maybe they couldn’t handle the commute.  They couldn’t handle me. I’m not an easy man to work for. I have high standards and zero patience for incompetence.

I built my company from nothing and I run my household the same way I run my business, efficiently, ruthlessly, without emotion.  What kind of business? The kind that doesn’t concern you. Thea is 6. She’s in first grade at St. Margaret’s. She needs to be picked up at 3:00 every day. She has ballet on Tuesdays, piano on Thursdays, and swimming on Saturdays.

You’ll prepare her meals, help with homework, bathe her, put her to bed. You’ll also do her laundry, keep her room clean, and make sure she’s dressed appropriately for every occasion.  That all sounds very manageable.  It won’t be. Thea is difficult. She’s been through a lot. Her mother died when she was 3. Car accident.

Since then, she’s been wary of strangers. She doesn’t trust easily. She tests people. She pushes boundaries. She needs someone who won’t leave. Everyone leaves.  I’m sorry about your wife.  She wasn’t my wife. And I didn’t ask for your sympathy.  I asked for a nanny. Can you do the job or not?  I can do the job.

But I have one condition.  You’re in no position to negotiate.  I need Sundays off. Every Sunday, no exceptions. I visit my family on Sundays. That’s non-negotiable.  Fine. Sundays.  But every other day, you’re here when I say you’re here. And you’ll stay late when I need you to stay late. The pay is 2,000 a week.

Cash.  That sounds fair.  There’s one more thing. Inside is a non-disclosure agreement. You will sign it before you leave this room. It states that you will never discuss anything you see or hear in this house with anyone. Not your friends, not your family, not a therapist. What happens here stays here.

Do you understand?  Is this standard for nanny positions?  In this house, it’s standard for everyone. The gardener signs one. The cook signs one. Mrs. Whitfield has been signing one for 40 years. I value privacy above all else, Mrs. Reeves. My business, my personal life, my daughter, they are all off-limits to the outside world.

If I find out you violated this agreement, there will be consequences, severe consequences. Are we clear?  We’re clear. I’m not interested in your business or your secrets, Mr. Ashford. I’m interested in taking care of your daughter. That’s it.  We’ll see. You start Monday. Be here at 6:30. Mrs. Whitfield will show you Thea’s routine. And Ms.

Reeves, don’t get attached.  I’ll try my best.  Trying isn’t good enough. Don’t fall in love with my daughter. Don’t fall in love with this house. And whatever you do, don’t fall in love with me.  Don’t worry, Mr. Ashford. You’re not my type.  You’ll need to be measured for a uniform. Nothing fancy.

Black pants, white blouse. I’ll have them ready by Monday.  I have my own clothes.  You have what we give you. Good day, Mrs. Reeves.  Don’t fall in love with him. Like that’s a real concern. The man has the personality of a cactus. 2,000 a week. That’s all that matters. The money, the bills. Mom,  Who came through the iron gates  You’re early.

I stopped for coffee. I didn’t know what anyone drinks, so I got one black, one with cream and sugar, and one herbal tea.  We have a coffee maker.  I know, but I thought first day and all, maybe a peace offering.  The black coffee. Leave it on the hall table.  Morning, Mr. Ashford. I’ll just get started then.

Thea wakes at 7:00. She likes pancakes on Mondays. Blueberry, not chocolate chip. Real maple syrup, not the fake stuff. Fresh squeezed orange juice, not from concentrate.  Got it. Blueberry pancakes, real syrup, fresh OJ.  She takes a bath, not a shower. Water has to be warm, but not hot. She has sensitive skin.

The products are in the cabinet labeled by day of the week. Don’t use Tuesday shampoo on a Monday.  Labeled by day. I’m a fast learner.  She has 30 minutes to eat breakfast. If she’s not done in 30 minutes, breakfast is over. I don’t negotiate with children about food. After breakfast, she has reading time. 30 minutes. She picks the book, you don’t pick for her.

Then she gets dressed. Uniform is hanging in her closet. White blouse, plaid skirt, knee socks, black Mary Janes. Hair in a ponytail, not a braid. She hates braids.  Ponytail, check.  School starts at 8:30. You’ll drive her in my car. It’s the black Escalade in the garage. You know how to drive an SUV?  I learned to drive in my uncle’s pickup truck on a farm in Nebraska.

I think I can handle an Escalade.  Mrs. Whitfield will show you the kitchen and Ms. Reeves. Three rules. First rule. Second rule. Third rule. One. Thea is never under any circumstances left alone, not for 30 seconds. Not while you answer a phone call, not while you use the bathroom. If you need to use the bathroom, you call Ms. Whitfield to watch her.

Is that understood?  Understood.  Two. This house stays clean, not tidy, clean. Thea makes a mess, you clean it immediately. Toys go in the toy chest, clothes go in the hamper, crayons stay on the craft table, not on the walls. The last nanny let Thea draw on the dining room wallpaper with a permanent marker. It cost $4,000 to replace.

No drawing on walls. Got it.  Three. Don’t get attached. Don’t start thinking you’re part of this family. You’re an employee, a service provider. Thea will try to make you love her. She does that with everyone. She wants a mother and she’ll turn any woman who walks through that door into a candidate. Don’t fall for it.

She’s a 6-year-old girl who lost her mom. Wanting a mother figure isn’t a manipulation tactic, Mr. Ashford. It’s a survival instinct.  I didn’t ask for your psychological analysis. I asked for your compliance. Can you follow the three rules or not?  I can follow them. But I’m not going to be cold to your daughter just because you’re afraid she’ll like me.

We’ll see how long you last. The kitchen, Ms. Reeves. Follow me. Mr. Ashford eats dinner at 8:00. You and Thea eat at 6:00. Separate meals. He doesn’t like noise when he eats.  Does he ever eat with Thea?  Occasionally. On her birthday, on Christmas, when he can.  When he can or when he feels like it?  Be careful, Mrs. Reeves.

You are here to care for Thea, not to judge her father. Mr. Ashford provides everything this child needs. Food, shelter, clothing, education. He works very hard to maintain this lifestyle.  A lifestyle isn’t the same as a life, Mrs. Whitfield.  It is in this house. Breakfast at 7:00. Don’t be late.  I smell pancakes.

Did you make them from a box?  From scratch. My grandmother’s recipe.  The last nanny used a box. They tasted like cardboard. These are good.  Thank you.  You’re still going to leave. Everyone leaves. Like Ms. Anna and Ms. Claire. Nanny Maria left. Nanny Jessica left. Nanny Linda cried in the pantry and then she left.

I’m not planning on leaving. I like this job. The house is nice. The kitchen is amazing.  I’m not cool. I’m a child. Children can be cool. My little brother was the coolest kid in our town.  He once talked his way out of a speeding ticket when he was 10. Convinced the cop that our dog was having a medical emergency.

Was the dog having an emergency?  The dog had been dead for 2 years.  [laughter]  Oh, sweetie. Here.  You’re funny. I hope you don’t leave. But you probably will. Because dad scares people. He looks at them like this. And he talks in this really quiet voice that means he’s mad. And he has a lot of meetings with men in suits who look scary.

Your dad runs a business. Business meetings are normal.  At midnight? With men who have guns?  Guns?  I saw them. Through the window. They were standing by the cars and they had things under their jackets. I know what they look like. I saw them on TV. Mrs. Whitfield says I imagined it, but I didn’t.  Well, I’m not scared of your dad.

He seems like a teddy bear to me.  A teddy bear with thorns.  It’s very accurate. Now, finish your breakfast. We have a schedule to keep, apparently.  You’re gentle. Nanny Jessica pulled my hair. She said it was my fault for not brushing it at night.  Oh, curls are tricky. I have a sister with curly hair.

She used to scream every time my mom tried to brush it. We had to buy a special brush with wide teeth.  Do you have a big family?  Two brothers and a sister. I’m the oldest.  I’m the only. Dad says he doesn’t want more kids. He says one is enough.  Being an only child has perks. You don’t have to share your toys or your room.

You get all the attention.  I don’t want all the attention. I want someone to play with. Someone who doesn’t leave.  Well, you’ve got me for now. And I’m excellent at tea parties. I make a mean imaginary crumpet.  Do you know how to play princess and dragon?  I invented princess and dragon. But fair warning, I always play the dragon.

The princess is too much pressure. All those manners.  Okay, but you have to roar really loud.  Deal.  Deal. 20 whole minutes.  That’s right, sweetie.  Dad usually drives me, but he had an early meeting.  Well, you’re stuck with me. Do you want music or silence?  Music.  What kind?  The loud kind.

Have a great day, kiddo.  Can you pick me up at 3:00? Dad is always late. He says 3:00, but he comes at 4:00 or 5:00 or not at all, and Mrs. Whitfield has to get me.  I’ll be here at 2:55 with a snack in the car. What do you like?  Goldfish crackers and apple juice. Not the cheap kind, the kind with no sugar added.

Fancy taste, I like it. Go on, you’ll be late.  Too late.  Thea  Yes, Mr. Ashford. Chicken and vegetables.  Homework?  Finished. She got an A on her spelling test.  Good.  Who’s this?  You. You’re in our family now.  Thrift store? How sustainable. You should try a keratin treatment or maybe a whole new style.

The Mission District? Do you have to carry mace everywhere? Some people have actual work to do. We’re in the middle of something. Can you come back in half an hour? My schedule isn’t dictated by the babysitter.  It’s too loud.  Hey, turn it off. Thea is sensitive to loud noises.  I say turn it off.  You don’t give orders around here.

You’re the help, same as me. Except I’m permanent and you’re temporary.  This isn’t about status. It’s about a child’s comfort. There are 12 other rooms you can vacuum right now. We’ll be done in 30 minutes. Or what? You’ll tell Daddy? I’ve seen the way you look at him. All the nannies think they’re going to be the one.

The one who tames Clint Ashworth. You’re not special. You’re just the latest in a long line of desperate girls who think spreading their legs will get them a diamond ring.  Excuse me?  You heard me. I’ve worked here for 3 years. Seen them come and go. The wide-eyed college grads, the single moms, the want-to-be actresses.

They all think they’re different. They all end up fired. Thea is just a tool to get to him. We all know it.  How dare you say that?  You’re way out of line.  I care about that little girl. I don’t care about her father.  Sure you don’t. That’s why you put your ugly drawing on the fridge to catch his attention.

He saw it, by the way, last night. He stood there for 5 minutes staring at it. Probably figuring out how to fire you without making Thea cry.  Take that back.  Make me.  Bianca, I’m warning you.  Warning me what? You’re nothing. A broke girl from a bad neighborhood playing house in a mansion you could never afford.  Don’t touch me.

Let go of me. You’re crazy.  Why are you fighting?  It’s okay, baby. We’re just having a disagreement.  Stop it.  Touch me again and I will end you. I don’t care about this job. I don’t care about this house. But you will not disrespect me and you will absolutely not do it in front of this child.

You’re insane.  No, I’m from Nebraska. We don’t start fights, but we sure as hell finish them. Now, get out of this room before I show you what four older cousins taught me about self-defense.  You’re going to regret this. I’ll tell Mr. Ashford. I’ll tell him you attacked me.  Go ahead.

Tell him. I’ll tell him what you said about his daughter being a tool. I have a feeling he’ll be a lot more interested in that.  Oh, baby, come here. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you had to see that.  Are you going to leave now? She made you mad and now you’ll leave like the others.  No, I’m not going anywhere.

That woman was being mean and I stood up to her. That’s what you do when people are mean. You stand up to them.  But Dad will fire you. Bianca always gets what she wants. She visits his room sometimes at night.  What do you mean?  I saw her going into his room late, wearing wearing not very much. Mrs.

Whitfield told me it was grown-up stuff and I shouldn’t talk about it. Listen to me, Thea. I don’t care about your dad’s room or who visits it. I care about you. And I promise you I am not leaving. Not because of Bianca, not because of anyone. We Reeves women don’t run from fights. We win them.  Are you a Reeves woman?  The original.

Can we finish the castle now?  Absolutely. And this time the dragon is going to have laser eyes.  Mr. Ashford wants to see you in his study now. Right. Let’s get this over with.  Close the door.  Mr. Ashford, I can explain what happened with Bianca.  I fired her.  What?  Bianca, she’s gone.

I had security escort her off the property 20 minutes ago.  But she said she’d tell you I attacked her.  She did. She also told me that you threatened her with a plastic fork. Is that true?  It was the closest thing I I grab. She pulled my hair and I  held a fork to her throat. I have cameras in every room of this house, Ms.

Reeves. I saw the whole thing. Bianca was out of line. She touched you first. She frightened my daughter. And she said things that I will not tolerate in this house. Bianca has been a problem for months. I kept her on because she was convenient. But threatening my daughter’s nanny with physical violence crosses a line. Also, what Thea told you is true.

Bianca did visit my room. It was a mistake, one I won’t repeat.  I wasn’t going to mention it.  I know. That’s why I mentioned it. You’re discreet, Mrs. Reeves. I appreciate that. Your bonus for the week. For handling a difficult situation with composure.  I held a fork to her neck.  And you didn’t stab her.

That shows remarkable restraint.  Mr. Ashford, I don’t need a bonus. I just need to know that Thea is safe here. If there are people in this house who are going to threaten her or me, I need to know you’ll have my back.  You really don’t care about the money, do you?  I care about the money.

I care about it a lot. I have bills. I have family depending on me. But that’s not why I stood up to Bianca. I stood up to her because she was being cruel in front of a child. And nobody gets to be cruel to Thea, not while I’m around.  Thank you for protecting her, for caring about her. It’s been a long time since someone in this house cared about anything other than their paycheck.

I do care. She’s easy to care about. She’s a great kid.  You’re different from the others, Mrs. Reeves. I haven’t figured out how yet. But I will.  Maybe I’m just a better actress.  No, you’re a terrible actress. I can read every emotion on your face. That’s how I know you’re telling the truth.

I should go. It’s getting late.  Of course. Drive safe, Mrs. Reeves.  Sable. Call me Sable.  Sable. Good night.  Don’t be an idiot. He’s your boss. He’s dangerous. He has armed meetings at midnight and he literally wrote you a rule that says don’t fall in love with him.  Sable.  You’re from Nebraska?  A small town you’ve never heard of.

Population 300, mostly cornfields and cows.  How did you end up in San Francisco?  College. I got a scholarship to San Francisco State, studied early childhood education, fell in love with the city and never went back.  Family?  Two younger brothers and a sister. My sister’s married with kids, lives in Sacramento.

One brother is in the army stationed in Germany. The other is  And your parents?  My dad left when I was 10. Haven’t heard from him since. My mom My mom is sick, kidney failure. She’s on dialysis three times a week.  Is Grandma going to be okay?  She’s not your grandma, baby. She’s my mom. And she’s going to be fine.

She’s very strong.  What’s dialysis?  It’s a machine that helps clean her blood because her kidneys can’t do it properly. She goes to the hospital, sits in a chair for a few hours while the machine does its work and then she goes home.  That sounds boring. I would bring books, lots of books.  That’s exactly what she does.

She reads romance novels. The cheesier the better.  May I be excused? I want to show Sable my new puzzle.  Sure, kiddo. I’ll clean up here and meet you in the playroom.  I’ll do this. Go play with my daughter. She hasn’t stopped talking about that puzzle for 3 days.  Mr. Ashford, I don’t mind.  Go, Sable. I’ll handle the dishes.

Hey, sis.  What’s going on? Is it Mom?  She’s in the hospital. They admitted her tonight. Her blood pressure spiked during dialysis and she passed out. They think she might have had a mini stroke.  Is she okay?  She’s stable now. They’re running tests, but the doctor pulled me aside and said he said her kidney function is declining faster than they expected.

She might not have as much time on dialysis as they originally thought. She needs a transplant, Sable, soon.  I know she needs a transplant. Do you think I don’t know that? I’ve been working every job I can find, saving every penny.  I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you like this. I just didn’t want you to hear it from someone else.

Toby is driving up from Sacramento tomorrow. We’re going to talk to the doctor together. We’ll figure out the options.  I need to be there. Sunday. I’ll come Sunday. I told my boss Sundays are non-negotiable.  Sable, your job, this new job, is it going okay?  It’s fine. The little girl is wonderful. The dad is complicated, but the pay is good, really good.

That’s something, at least. Sis, don’t freak out, okay? But the doctor mentioned something about an expedited transplant program. But it has a price. If we could come up with the money up front, they could schedule the surgery within a month.  How much?  50,000. Plus another 15 for the first year of meds.

We’ll find it. Somehow we’ll find it.  Ashford residence.  It’s Sable. I need to speak to Mr. Ashford. It’s urgent.  He’s in a meeting, Mrs. Reeves. He left strict instructions not to be disturbed.  Please, Mrs. Whitfield. It’s about the check, the $50,000 check that someone taped to my door tonight.

Hold on.  You weren’t supposed to find it until morning.  Is this from you?  It doesn’t matter who it’s from. What matters is your mother gets the surgery she needs.  Clint, I can’t accept this.  Yes, you can.  It’s $50,000.  I know.  Do you understand what you’re doing?  It’s pocket change to me.

I spent more than that on security upgrades last month.  That doesn’t mean you can just throw money at my family’s problems.  I’m not throwing it. I’m investing it.  Investing in what?  In you. In Thea. And whatever this is that’s happening between us.  Clint.  I know.

Rule number three, don’t fall in love. I’m not very good at following my own rules, Sable.  This is crazy. We barely know each other.  I know that you’re kind. I know that you’re brave. I know that you held a plastic fork to a woman’s throat to protect my daughter. I know that you make Thea laugh in a way that no one has since her mother died.

And I know that the thought of you sitting on the side of a road crying because you can’t save your mother is unacceptable to me.  I don’t know what to say.  Say you’ll take the money. Say you’ll get your mother the help she needs. And then, when she’s better, say you’ll have dinner with me. A real dinner.

Not in the kitchen with a 6-year-old chaperone.  Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Ashford?  I’m asking you to let me do something good for once. My business, the things I do, they don’t leave much room for goodness, Sable. Let me have this.  Thank you. I’ll pay you back. Every penny. It might take years, but I’ll pay you back.  We’ll discuss terms later.

For now, call the hospital, set up the surgery. And Sable,  Yes?  drive safely on your way home tomorrow. I’ll see you Monday. See you Monday.  See you Monday.   Rule number three, don’t fall in love.  Behind the iron gates.  You’re staring again.  I’m not staring.  You are, too.

Your mouth was open a little, like this.  I do not look like that.  You totally do. You like my dad.  I like him as a person, as my employer, in a professional capacity.  You want to kiss him.  Thea!  It’s okay. All the nannies wanted to kiss him, except nanny Linda. She wanted to kiss Marcus the gardener. But, I think you’re different.

You actually like playing with me. The others just pretended so dad would like them.  Thea, I don’t care about your dad that way. I care about you. You’re my priority.  But, you do like him. I can tell. You get all weird when he’s around. Your voice changes, and you fix your hair.  I fix my hair because it’s messy.

Not because of your dad.  Sure. Can we make pancakes? It’s Saturday.  You already had cereal.  Saturday pancakes are a different meal. Everyone knows that.  Saturday pancakes, it is. Go wash your face, and we’ll make the fancy kind, with chocolate chips.  Yay!  Saturday pancakes?  It’s a sacred tradition.

Don’t question it.  I wouldn’t dream of it. Save, I wanted to ask you something.  Sure.  My birthday is next weekend. Thea has been bugging me about it for weeks. She wants to go to Napa Valley, stay at a resort, do the whole wine country thing. I thought maybe you’d come with us, as Thea’s nanny, of course, but also as a friend.

You want me to come on your birthday trip?  Thea insists. She says a birthday isn’t a birthday without you. And, frankly, I’m not very good at leisure activities. I need someone to make sure I don’t spend the whole weekend on my laptop.  You? On a laptop during a vacation? I can’t imagine.  Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.

Everything suits me. I’m very versatile.  So, you’ll come?  I’ll come. But, only because Thea asked. Not because you did.  Of course. Not because of me at all.  We’re only staying one night, kiddo. Why do you need three bags?  Options. What if it’s cold? What if it’s hot? What if I spill something and need back up clothes? What if I meet another kid and need a gift?  You’re six.

You shouldn’t be this organized.  I’m advanced for my age. Dad says so.  Your dad also says brussels sprouts are a food group.  Brussels sprouts are delicious.  You’re both monsters.  [laughter]  She gets carsick if she reads in the car, but she hates naps. So, she pretends she’s not tired until she passes out.  She’s a master of denial, just like her father.

I’m not in denial. I’m selectively aware.  That’s literally the definition of denial.  How’s your mother?  She’s good. Nervous about the surgery, but good. The doctors say her blood pressure is stable and she’s a good candidate for the transplant. My brother Sawyer is getting tested to see if he’s a donor match.

And if he is?  Then the surgery happens faster. A living donor match is better than waiting for a deceased donor. Better outcomes, shorter recovery. I wanted to get tested, too, but my blood type is different. I’m O positive. Mom is AB negative. Sawyer’s the only one who matches.  He’ll come through. Family tends to when it matters.

You sound like you speak from experience.  I had a brother. Older. His His Caleb. He died when I was 19.  I’m sorry. What happened?  Wrong place, wrong time. He was involved in a family business. A deal went bad, he took the fall so I could get out.  The family business? Is that what you do now? The same business?  I took it over, changed some things, made it more efficient.

But it’s the same business, the same risks, the same reasons why I don’t sleep much and why I have armed security and why I made you sign that NDA.  Clint.  You don’t have to say anything. I know what I am. I know what people think of me. But I want you to understand something. Everything I do, I do for Thea.

This business, it pays for her school, her clothes, her future. It keeps her safe. It keeps the wolves away. If I could walk away tomorrow, I would. But I can’t. Not yet.  Not yet?  There are things I need to settle first. Accounts to close, enemies to neutralize. And then then maybe I can be something else. Something better.

You’re already better than you think. This is fancy. I’ve never stayed anywhere this nice.  The fanciest place I ever stayed was a Motel 6 in Fresno. It had a pool and everything.  High living.  I have a lunch reservation at the restaurant. Then I thought we’d do the hiking trail Thea read about. The one with the waterfall.

Can we swim in the waterfall?  It’s probably freezing.  Oh. Can we try?  We’ll discuss it when we get there.  That’s poison oak. Don’t touch it.  How do you know?  I grew up in the country. I had poison oak 17 times as a kid. I learned to spot it from 50 ft away.  17 times? Didn’t you learn after the first five?  I was a slow learner.

And I really liked exploring the woods.  Come in, Dad. The water is amazing.  I’ll pass. Someone has to stay dry to carry you back if you get hypothermia.  You’re no fun.  I’m extremely fun. I just express it differently.  You’re standing on a rock like a statue.  It’s a very nice rock.  Come on, Mr. Fun. Live a little.

Traitor.  Best birthday ever.  It’s not over yet. Wait until you see dessert.  Is it chocolate?  It’s always chocolate.  Best dad ever.  Clint Ashford. Long time no see.  Take the A-pack toward the resort. Go now. Don’t wait for me.  Clint! Dad! We have to go back.  Your dad told us to run.

We’re going to do exactly what he said.  But they’ll hurt him.  Your dad is tough. He can handle himself. We have to be very quiet now, okay? Like a game. Whoever stays quietest wins.  What do we win?  Ice cream. Any flavor you want for a whole week.  Chocolate fudge brownie.  Done.  Daddy!  You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you.

You’re okay. You’re okay. They’re gone now. They won’t hurt anyone ever again.  Clint, what did you do?  It’s what I had to do. Carson has been a problem for a long time. He killed my brother. He killed Thea’s mother. And now he’s coming after my family.  Thea’s mother? I thought she died in a car accident.

That’s what I tell people. The truth is Eva was killed by one of Carson’s men. A drive-by shooting meant for me. She was in my car. She died instantly.  Oh my god, Clint. I’m so sorry.  Don’t be sorry. Be careful. Carson knows about you now. He knows you’re important to me. That makes you a target.

Important to you?  You know you are. Don’t pretend you don’t.  You’re bleeding.  It’s nothing.  That’s not nothing. Clint, you were shot.  Grazed. There’s a difference.  We need to get you to a hospital.  No hospitals. They ask questions.  Then a doctor. Someone private.

I have someone in the city.  You’re going to pass out if you don’t stop moving.  I don’t pass out.  Clint, you’re exhausted. I said no.  Everyone passes out. It’s biology.  I’m not everyone. Help me to the car. The keys are in my pocket.  Through and through grazed. Lucky.

An inch to the left and we’d be having a very different conversation.  That stuff burns.  Don’t be a baby.  I’m not being a baby. That stuff burns.  You took a bullet for us and you’re complaining about antiseptic?  I took a graze. Not a bullet. There’s a difference.  He’s right.  A bullet would have put him in surgery. This just needs stitches and antibiotics.

See? Just stitches. I’m fine.  You’re not fine. You were shot protecting us.  I’d do it again. A thousand times. Don’t you understand that yet?  You idiot. You’re an idiot. A reckless, self-sacrificing idiot.  Your idiot.  Don’t say things like that in front of Thea.  Thea is asleep on the couch.

So, you can say whatever you like. See? Thea’s asleep. And I’m drugged on local anesthetic. Perfect time for confessions.  You’re not drugged.  I’m slightly drugged. Enough to be honest. I like you, Sable Reeves. I like you more than I’ve liked anyone in a very long time. And I’m terrified of what that means.

Why are you terrified?  Because everyone I love dies. My brother, Eva, my parents, they all died because of me, because of what I do. And now Carson knows about you and I can’t I can’t lose you, too.  You’re not going to lose me. I’m too stubborn to die. Ask anyone.  Promise me.  I promise.  Liar. You can’t promise that.

Then I’ll promise something I can control. I promise I won’t leave. Not because of Carson, not because of your business, not because of anything. I’m here, Clint,  for as long as you want me.  I want you forever. That’s the problem.  All done. 12 stitches. Keep it dry, change the dressing daily, and no strenuous activity for 2 weeks.

Define strenuous. No running, no fighting, no lifting heavy objects. What about driving? If you can do it without wincing. I can manage. I’m not an invalid. No, you’re a stubborn fool who got himself shot. Drink your whiskey and rest, or I’ll add something to it that will make you rest. She’s threatened me before. She’s not bluffing. I know she’s not.

Drink your whiskey. We need to talk about Carson. No, we don’t. Yes, we do. He knows about me. He knows about Thea. He’s not going to stop, is he? No, he’s not. Then what are we going to do about it? I don’t know yet, but I will figure it out. I promise you, Sable, I will keep you safe, both of you.

It’s not just your job to keep us safe. It’s ours, too. I’m not some damsel in distress, Clint. I grew up with three siblings and a single mom. I know how to fight. You held a fork to Bianca’s throat. And I’d do worse to Carson. You really are something else, Sable Reeves. I know. Now drink your whiskey and rest, or I’ll tell Mrs. Whitfill you refused.

You’re all ganging up on me. Someone has to. You’re being paranoid. I’m being careful. There’s a difference. You called me 5 minutes ago. That was about Thea’s lunch. This is about your safety. I can’t tell the difference. Learn. Your daughter wants to know if you’ll be home for dinner. She wants to make you pasta. Tell her I’ll try.

Thea doesn’t accept I’ll try. She wants a yes or no. Yes, then. I’ll be home by 7:00. Good. And Clint, my mom’s surgery is tomorrow. I need to be at the hospital by 6:00 in the morning. I’ll need the day off.  Take the week. Stay with her. Be with your family. I’ll handle Thea.  You handle a 6-year-old alone?  I managed before you came along.

Mrs. Whitfield managed. You were never home.  I’ll be home this time. How is she?  Amazing. The doctors say she’s recovering faster than they expected. Sawyer is sore but fine. My sister Toby is running herself ragged taking care of both of them. How is Thea doing?  She’s She’s been busy.  Busy doing what?  You’ll see.

And then I told your daddy that we should all go to Paris together. Wouldn’t that be fun? Just the three of us?  My nanny is coming back today. She’s way prettier than you.  Oh, sweetie. Nannies aren’t family. They’re just employees. I’m going to be family soon. Excuse me. Who are you? I’m Vivian, Clint’s friend.

And you are? Thea, go to your room.  But I want to.  Now, please.  Vivian, I told you to wait in the study.  The study was boring. I don’t care. You stay where I tell you.  So, this is the famous nanny. The one who held a fork to Bianca’s throat. I heard all about it.

Very dramatic. You need to leave. I don’t think so. Clint invited me here. Didn’t you, darling?  I invited you to discuss business. Business that is now concluded.  But we haven’t had dinner yet. I thought we could catch up for old times’ sake.  There are no old times. There was one dinner 6 months ago.

That doesn’t constitute old times.  It was a very memorable dinner.  It was a business dinner, and it’s over.  Is this because of her? The nanny? Don’t be ridiculous, Clint. She’s the help. I’m well. Look at me.  I am looking. And all I see is a woman who doesn’t know when she’s not wanted. You little  Vivian, get out now before I have security remove you.

You’ll regret this. I have connections, important connections.  Then use them to find the door.  Care to explain?  She’s the daughter of a business associate. I had dinner with her once to seal a deal. She’s been trying to parlay that into a relationship ever since.  She seems to think she’s succeeding.

She’s delusional.  She was sitting on your couch with your daughter talking about family trips to Paris.  I didn’t know she was here. Mrs. Whitfield let her in while I was on a call. I’m sorry, Sable. I should have handled it sooner. I should have told her to stay away months ago.  Why didn’t you?  Because her father is useful.

Because in my business, you don’t burn bridges unless you have to. But I’m burning this one. Right now. For you.  You better. Because I’m not sharing you with some red-headed social climber who thinks my name is the help.  You’re not the help.  Then what am I?  You’re everything.  Ew!  Thea, I told you to go to your room.

I did, but then I came back because I forgot to tell you something. Also, I wanted to see if you’d kiss. You did. I win.  You win what?  The bet with Mrs. Whitfield. She said you wouldn’t kiss until Christmas. I said you’d kiss before Thanksgiving. I get $5.  You bet on my love life?  Your love life is very interesting, Dad.

Very slow, but interesting. Can I call you Mom now?  Thea!  What? Nanny Linda said I could call her Mom and then she left. But you’re not going to leave, right? You promised.  How about we start with something else, like Sable Mom or just Sable for now?  How about Mommy Sable?  That’s a mouthful.  I’ll practice. I’m so glad you’re back.

Dad tried to make pancakes and he burned them. We had to eat cereal for 3 days.  I told you I could handle it.  You handled it badly, but it’s okay. Mommy Sable is back now.  She’s going to call you that in public.  I don’t mind.  You don’t?  I love her, Clint. I know I’m not supposed to, per your rules, but I do.

And if she wants to call me Mommy Sable or Mom or anything else, I’m honored.  What about me?  What about you?  Do you love me, too? Or is it just Thea?  I love you both. Which is terrifying. Because you’re a mafia boss with a death wish and a string of enemies who want to kill everyone you care about.

Former mafia boss.  Former?  I’ve been making calls, transferring assets, cutting ties. I told you I wanted to walk away. I’m doing it. For you, for Thea, for us. I know it’s fast. I know we haven’t known each other that long. But I’ve spent my whole life around people who lie, who scheme, who would stab me in the back for a dollar.

And then you walked in wearing a thrift store skirt and holding a portfolio full of references, and you looked me in the eye like I was just a man, not a boss, not a criminal, just a man. Marry me, Sable. Not because of Thea. Not because of the money, not because you feel obligated. Marry me because I can’t imagine my life without you in it.

You’re supposed to ask on one knee.  I have a bullet wound. Give me a break.  Yes, you impossible man. Yes, I’ll marry you.   [music and singing] What’s going on?  Complications. Walking away from my business isn’t as simple as I thought. There are debts to settle, partnerships to dissolve, people who aren’t happy about my decision.

Carson?  Carson is the biggest problem. He’s been moving against me for weeks, buying up my contacts, undercutting my deals, threatening my allies. He’s not going to let me go quietly.  What does he want?  Everything. My territory, my connections, my money. And he wants me to suffer. For Caleb. For Eva.

He blames me for both of their deaths.  That’s insane. You didn’t kill them.  In his mind, I might as well have. I need you and Thea to go away for a while until this is settled.  Go away where?  My cabin in Lake Tahoe. It’s remote, secure, off the grid. No one knows about it except me and a few trusted people.  I’m not leaving you here alone.

You’re not leaving me. You’re protecting Thea. Please, Sable. If something happened to either of you because of me, I wouldn’t survive it.  Okay. We’ll go. But you have to promise me something.  Anything.  Promise you’ll come to us. Promise you won’t do anything stupid or heroic. Promise you’ll walk away from this alive.

I promise.  You better keep it. Because I’m not raising Thea alone, Clint Ashford. That’s not the deal.  Is he in danger?  No, baby. He’s just working.  You’re lying. I can tell. Your voice goes up at the end when you lie.  Okay. There might be some danger. But your dad is very tough and very smart. He knows how to handle himself.

What if he doesn’t come?  He’ll come.  What if he can’t?  Then we’ll go get him. Together.  How is she?  She’s fine. Missing you. Asking when you’re coming.  Soon. I’m close to wrapping things up.  You said that 3 days ago.  I’m a perfectionist.  You’re a liar.  A charming liar.  That’s debatable.

The wheels on the bus go round and round, round round round. The wheels on the bus go round and  What’s wrong?  That truck. It’s been following us since town.  Are you sure?  I’m sure.  Get down!  Thea? Thea, are you okay?  I think so. My head hurts.  Don’t move. I’m going to get us out.

The the driver. He’s alive. But we can’t stay here. We have to run, Thea. Can you run?  Yes, I can run.  Good girl. Thea, come on. Through here.  I’m coming.  Up the hill, don’t stop. Run. We need to hide.  I know you’re here. Come out now and nobody gets hurt. We just want the girl. Carson just wants to talk to Mr.

Ashford. The girl is leverage, that’s all. Bring her out and you can go free.  OVER THERE!  THEA, NO!  CLINT, we’re here. We’re okay.  Daddy!  Thea! You okay, baby? Daddy’s here. Daddy’s got you. Daddy’s here. Daddy’s got you. Daddy’s got you. Are you hurt?  No, we’re both fine.  I thought I’d lost you.

When the security company called and said you’d gone off the grid, I nearly lost my mind.  How did you find us?  GPS tracker in the car. I always have a backup plan. Let’s go home, all of us, together.  said, “Don’t love me, don’t staytoo close.”