Author's Note: Thanks for so many words of encouragement for me to finish this story and continue writing! We'll see what this final season holds for our girls and if I feel the urge to write more later this year. I forgot to say this really is OOC.

Because Harper is in pre-school from 8:30 to 3:30 during the week, I only need to alter my work schedule slightly that first week Hilda is out. The good news is that I can do much of my job from home, so arriving late and leaving early isn't a big deal on most days. On Wednesday however, I take the entire day off so I can meet Harper's new nanny, spend some time with both of them and observe their interactions. The agency is clear about the importance of a bond between the child and the nanny they assign, so if things don't work out whether on the first day or in the first month, I can request a different nanny until I'm satisfied.

"What's my new nanny's name?" Harper asks, brushing her unruly hair.

"Shannon," I reply. "And she's very excited to meet you."

She puts the brush back in the drawer. "I hope I like her."

"I'm sure you will."

She jumps off the bathroom stool and we head downstairs.

The doorbell rings, and Harper flies to the door, swinging it open. "Hi, I'm Harper," she announces before I've even made it to the entryway to see who's there.

"Nice to meet you, Harper."

I finally make it around the corner and stop in my tracks when I see who's standing in my doorway. There must be some kind of mistake.

She's bent over at the waist, greeting my daughter. "My name is Piper."

"Are you my nanny?" Harper furrows her brow. "I thought your name was Shannon?"

I cross my arms and I'm sure my expression mirrors my daughter's. "So did I."

Piper stands fully and all but jumps back when noticing me. "You…" She tucks her chin. "Alex, right? From the Subway and the cheese aisle at Zabar's."

"Piper?" I take a step closer as if getting nearer to her will somehow make this more real. As soon as I do, I'm assaulted by her flowery scent. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm the nanny." Her eyebrows forming a perfect V. "Shannon took a different assignment. I had no idea you were…"

"Neither did I." I shake my head. "I don't understand…you were assigned to be Harper's nanny?"

Piper shrugs. "Seems that way."

"Your name sounds almost like mine," Harper states gleefully, totally unaware of the significance of who's standing in front of us.

"It sure does, but I like yours better." Piper crouches down and smiles at her. "And you want to know something else? My best friend's last name is your first name."

Harper tilts her head like she can't comprehend that notion.

"My friend's name is Polly Harper," Piper explains. "And yours is Harper Vause."

She giggles. "What if my name was Harper Harper?"

"That would be funny," Piper adds before standing.

As the fog slowly dissipates, I step aside and motion with my arm. "Please, come in."

"This is a lovely home," Piper says as she enters the living room and looks around.

Harper grabs her hand. "Do you want to see my room? I painted it with my mommy."

"I'd love to." She looks at me as if checking to see if it's alright. "Lead the way."

My emotions are all over the place. How in the world is the woman from the Subway now our nanny? There's no way she could've known this—I never gave my photo to the agency, nor did I tell Piper my last name at Zabar's. It must be some sort of freaky coincidence. For a moment, I wonder if I should call the agency and ask for a different nanny. I have no idea what Piper's qualifications are, but I'm upset with the agency for not informing me about the switch.

I grab my phone and notice I have a new voicemail. Apparently, it came in at 7:30 this morning while my phone was still in silent mode. "This is Yvonne from Morningside Nannies, and we've had a change of placement. I'm so sorry about the late notification, but I can assure you, Piper Chapman is one of our finest, most experienced nannies. I'll send you her bio in an e-mail. Please call if you have any questions. Again, sorry for the inconvenience."

I search for the e-mail on my phone, and sure enough, there's one from the agency. I open the attachment and glance at Piper's resume. She was a neuroscience major at Smith College, received her master's degree in developmental psychology from Barnard, and is getting her Ph.D. in child psychology at Columbia University. It appears she has been babysitting or nannying since her teenage years, and she just completed a practicum in Chelsea.

I lower my phone, astonished at what has transpired. All this time, the woman on the Subway—Piper—was presumably going to work at a child psychology clinic.

"We're going to play with my L.O.L dolls down here," Harper announces.

Piper follows her downstairs, eyes trained on me. "Why don't you set everything up, and I'm going to talk to your mom for a minute?"

"Ok."

She walks towards me. "Did the agency not tell you about the switch?"

"I missed a call from them this morning." I glance at my phone. "And they sent me an e-mail with your bio. I just read it."

Piper puts a hand on the back of her neck, and I'm drawn to her triceps. "Is this going to be a problem?"

"No." I shake my head. "At least I don't think it will be. You seem qualified."

She gives me a small smile like I'm vastly underestimating her experience, though her expression is not laced with conceit.

"I don't understand why you'd want to be a nanny when you're getting your Ph.D."

"It pays the bills." She shrugs. "I earned minimum wage for my practicum, and I need the income from a job like this to make ends meet. Besides, the hours you're looking for assistance gives me plenty of time during the day to work on my dissertation."

"Everything is set up," Harper calls from her place on the living room rug.

"Piper will be there in a minute." I shove my hands into my pockets. "I travel about once a month for my job, so there might be a few times when I'll need you to spend the night."

"No problem," she states. "If you don't mind, I'm going to…" she hooks a thumb over her shoulder in Harper's direction.

"Enjoy." I give her a straight-lipped smile.

I sit at the kitchen table with my laptop, alternating between checking e-mail and observing Harper's interactions with Piper. Right from the start, it's easy to see that she has a way with children. She's completely at ease, she encourages creative thinking and she doesn't talk to Harper in a dumbed-down baby voice. It's evident she'll be a good nanny, and Harper seems to have formed an instant connection with her.

I try to keep the fact that I've found Piper attractive since first seeing her at bay while I watch her play with my daughter, but it's not easy. She has a yoga body—lean and strong but feminine. She uses her hands a lot when she talks, and I'm drawn to how expressive she is—I think Harper is drawn to it as well but in an entirely different way. When they're finished playing with the L.O.L dolls, Piper reads her The Very Hungry Caterpillar, teaching Harper a few words along the way. She's patient, kind and encouraging.

"What are you still doing here?" Harper asks me after about an hour as if she expected me to be at work.

I look up from my computer. "I took the day off, remember?"

"Oh." She walks into the kitchen. "Can I have a snack?"

"Yeah." I push my chair back. "Do you want to show Piper where everything is in the kitchen?"

"Sure."

Piper tucks away a few dolls and places the book back on the shelf. "What kind of snacks do you like?"

"Potato chips, but my mom won't let me eat them."

"That's right." I smile. "I stopped buying them when she'd eat half the bag in one sitting."

"Maybe we can discover something else that's crunchy and delicious." As she reaches for something in the pantry, Piper's t-shirt rises up revealing a sliver of her flat stomach.

"Like what? And don't say apples," Harper adds.

"Well, there's plantains, whole wheat crackers, rice cakes…"

"Crackers are just ok." She stands on the step stool and shows Piper the snacks in our pantry. "What are plantains?"

"Hmm…they're like a banana's cousin."

Harper gets a kick out of that. "Fruit doesn't have family!"

I admire the way she lets Harper do most of the talking, and if Piper needs to ask a clarifying question, she allows her to explain things further.

"You have a well-stocked pantry," Piper comments. "What's in the refrigerator?"

"Milk, orange juice, some fruit and Jell-O cups." She jumps off the stool and opens the fridge. "Can I have a red Jell-O cup?"

I cross my arms, lean against the column between the breakfast nook and kitchen and wait for Piper to respond.

"How about you eat a banana or an apple, and then the Jell-O?"

Harper stands on her tip toes and reaches for a red cup. "What if I ate the Jell-O first?"

"Jell-O is more like dessert," Piper explains. "Have you ever had kale chips?"

"No."

Piper pulls out a bunch of kale. "They're as yummy as potato chips but made from this."

She shakes her head. "I've never seen a green potato chip."

"Want to help me make some?"

"Ok." Harper sets the Jell-O cup on the counter. "I like to cook."

"Perfect; you'll be a big help."

I return to my spot at the table, switching seats so as to be a bit more inconspicuous, but I still have a full view of Piper and Harper in the kitchen. She lets my daughter wash the greens, and then shows her how to tear off the leaves. Harper giggles as she strips the kale, and then pretends that the stalk is a monster. Piper plays along with two stalks of her own, and then pulls out a baking sheet and asks Harper to lay the kale on it. She shows her how to put just a little salt into her hand and sprinkle it on the greens. Piper drizzles olive oil all over the kale, and instructs Harper to rub it in. That seems to be her favorite part as her hands are covered in the slippery oil.

Maybe it's just that I haven't observed Hilda's interactions with Harper in a long time, but their relationship feels different. Hilda played with my daughter, fed her, read to her, took her to the park, etc. but I don't recall a time when she involved Harper in things. It's fair to say that Hilda has taken excellent care of her, but as far as I know, she didn't encourage her to learn by doing.

"We'll bake them in the oven for 20 minutes." Piper slides the pan into the oven. "And then we'll have a delicious and healthy snack."

"Now can I have the Jell-O?"

"After the chips," Piper says with a stern yet gentle expression. "For now, how about showing me a few of your coloring books?"

"Ok." She runs back into the living room, digging through a wicker basket filled with Crayons and coloring books.

"How's it going?" I ask.

Piper watches her pull a few of them out. "Good so far, I think."

I close my laptop halfway. "What did Morningside Nannies tell you about us?"

She returns her attention to me. "What do you mean?"

I shrug. "What information did they provide so that you'd be familiar with us before you arrived?"

"They gave me basic details about Harper—her name, age, pre-school, any allergies she has. There were a few notes about what activities she prefers like reading and coloring," Piper says. "Nothing earth shattering."

"Did they tell you anything about me?"

"Not really." She lifts her shoulders. "The form just listed your name, place of employment and contact information."

"So, nothing about Harper's past?"

Piper looks confused and maybe even a little suspicious. "Is there something you're trying to tell me?"

"No, sorry. I was just..." My phone buzzes, and I check the number noticing it's Kiera, my receptionist. "I have to take this."

I decide against filling Piper in on how Harper came into my life. There's no need to provide that level of detail since she's only filling in for six weeks. If something comes up that warrants me telling her about Nicky, I'll explain it then.

"I picked out a coloring book with dinosaurs," Harper calls.

"Be right there."

I excuse myself and go upstairs to take the call from work, and by the time I return downstairs, Piper and Harper are munching on kale chips.

"Taste these, mommy!" Harper exclaims. "They're even better than potato chips!"

I keep my eyes on Piper, who's sitting across the counter from Harper. "I find that hard to believe."

Harper hands me a chip. "Trust me."

"Mmm, they are good." I cover my mouth and finish chewing. "What other tricks do you have up your sleeve?"

She smirks. "Too many to count."

A thrill runs through my body with the way she delivers the one, simple line.

"Can we make another batch?" Harper asks.

Piper returns her attention to her. "Yes, tomorrow after school. Would you mind helping me put these in a plastic bag?"

"Can I dump them?"

Piper searches two drawers before finding the Ziplocs. "Sure."

I sit on the stool next to my daughter. "There's a little bit of a wrench in the plans for next week."

"What is it?" Piper asks.

I help Harper carefully pour the kale into the baggie. "I have to go to Newport for a couple nights for work."

"Rhode Island?"

I nod. "We're developing a property and there's a construction delay. Attorneys and unions are involved."

Piper hands the bag to Harper and shows her how to zip it. "Sounds like a headache."

I don't like what I'm about to say, but I can't place all my trust in her just yet. "I, um…I'm not ready for you to be alone with Harper for two or three nights since we kind of just met today. No offense."

She doesn't seem to be insulted. "None taken."

"Would you be up for a trip to Newport?"

Her eyes shoot open. "Travel with you?"

"And Harper," I add.

She sniffs. "Right, of course."

I help Harper off the stool. "I'd get a suite with two bedrooms, so you'd have your own room."

"Let me check my schedule." She moves around the counter and pulls out her phone.

I like watching Piper walk; I think our strides would match perfectly.

"I'll ask my Ph.D. supervisor if I can reschedule our weekly check-in," she replies, typing a message on her phone. "As long as I'm back by Thursday and can have three or four hours to write each day, I can make it work."

"I can't promise three or four hours in a row, but you can work during Harper's nap or while she's watching a video." I move back to the kitchen table. "I'm usually done around five or six o'clock, so I can take her at that time while you work for the rest of the evening."

There's a gleam in her eye. "Ok."

"I'll ask my assistant to make the reservations." I sit back down. "We'll drive to Newport just after lunch on Sunday."

I spend the rest of the morning into the early afternoon continuing to observe Piper with Harper, and it's easy to see that it's an excellent match. She puts Harper down for a nap around one o'clock, giving us a moment to ourselves.

"You have a beautiful home." I watch her walk down the stairs.

"Thanks." Just like on the Subway, I admire the way she fills out a pair of jeans. "I want to redo the master bathroom, but that won't happen for a while."

"Why not?" She sticks her hands in her back pockets, and my eyes latch on to her breasts.

"Time," I reply. "Also money. I had the kitchen renovated before I moved in, and that almost broke the bank."

"Mmm." Piper looks around as if she's still trying to get her bearings. "How long does Harper typically nap?"

"About an hour." I set my pen down. "Any other questions for me while she's asleep?"

"Many." Piper fills a glass with water before joining me in the breakfast nook. I have a feeling her questions aren't just about Harper. "I haven't mapped out where her school is yet. Is it within walking distance?"

Or not.

I nod. "It's just three blocks north at Amsterdam and 94th."

She takes a sip. "Is she agreeable in the morning, or do you have to wrangle her to get ready for school?"

"She's pretty agreeable," I respond. "She wakes up around seven, and Hilda walks her to school at 8:15."

Piper takes an iPad out of her bag and begins taking notes. "What time would you like me to get here in the morning, and do you want me to make breakfast?"

"Between 7:15 and 7:30 would be ideal, and yes, I'd like you to make breakfast for her." I take a sip of tea. "She usually eats scrambled eggs and toast with a piece of fruit. If we're running late, she doesn't mind having a cup of yogurt. I tend to buy the high protein stuff with fruit at the bottom."

"I read in the agency's report that she doesn't have any food allergies, but she has a few aversions." She scrolls on her iPad. "Doesn't like mushrooms, cauliflower, sweet potatoes or raspberries."

"Sounds about right." I chuckle. "She doesn't care for crab or shrimp either, but she likes fish."

"Did Hilda make dinner, too?"

"Usually she cooks two or three times a week, and we eat leftovers," I answer. "Are you ok with that?"

"Yeah." She scribbles more notes on her iPad. "What time do you typically get home from work?"

"It depends," I begin. "The earliest is six and the latest is around eight, but I'd give you a head's up if I suspect I'll be home that late. And I think you know this already, but you're free to do whatever you want while Harper is in school."

Piper grins. "That's the main reason I took the job."

She strikes me as someone who values efficiency, which makes sense considering how many things she must juggle in a day. I'm sure her resume didn't cover half of what she does on any given day.

"What time does Harper go to sleep at night?"

"I read to her in bed at eight or so, and she falls asleep in about 15 to 20 minutes."

Piper finishes writing notes, and then looks up from her computer. "Anything else I should know?"

"The more physical activity you can do with her the better," I reply. "And if you can play games that stimulate learning, that would be great. She's just starting to read, so working with her on that would be helpful."

"No problem." She takes the last sip of water. "How close is the nearest park?"

"Central Park is two blocks east, but Harper loves going to the playground at Sol Bloom. There's also the West Side Community Garden where we have a small plot."

She raises her eyebrows. "A garden?"

I nod. "We haven't done anything with it since Hilda's pregnancy, but if you have a green thumb, I'm sure Harper would enjoy helping out."

"I'd love to." Her eyes light up, and once again, I'm drawn to their brightness. "Fall is just around the corner, so we could plant some broccoli, Brussels sprouts and beans."

"The three B's?" I chuckle.

She smiles. "I'll throw some cabbage in there just to keep it interesting."

We stare at each other for a moment, and I feel totally comfortable with Piper like I've known her for months if not years. I'm also physically attracted to her, but I do my best to keep my gawking to a minimum.

"So, second year Ph.D. student?" I ask, changing the topic when I start thinking about how perfect her fingers are.

"In child psychology," she responds. "This year is way more manageable than last."

"What happened last year?" I stand and hold my mug out. "Would you like some tea?"

"Sure, thank you." She tucks her iPad into her bag. "I taught an undergrad class both semesters and TA'd a graduate school class, plus I had an internship in the mental health center at St. Clare's. It was brutal."

"Was that in addition to researching and writing?" I ask from the kitchen.

"Yes," she says. "I was putting in about 60 hours a week."

I rip open two packets of tea. "Sounds familiar."

"This summer, I spent three days a week doing research at the Institute of Child Development and two days at a children's group clinic, which is where I was headed when we rode the Subway together."

That piques my interest, so I take a chance. "Had you noticed me on the Subway?"

"I saw you."

I wish I was in a position to see her expression, but my back is turned as I finish making the tea. A part of me is glad I'm not in the same room as her so she can't see the blush crawling up my neck.

"I'm surprised," I say. "Your head was always buried in the newspaper."

"There's this thing called peripheral vision." I wonder if she's smirking. "I didn't need to stare to know you were there."

My lips twist upwards as I return to the table. "Could've fooled me."

She takes the proffered mug. "Anyway, here we are."

"Here we are." I sip the highly fragranced tea. "I'm glad we met."

"Me, too." She issues a soft smile. "The only thing Morningside Nannies told me about you was that you work full-time at a place called Tannehill's, and you're a single mother."

"I'm a principle partner at Tannehill's."

She blows on the hot tea. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"We own a chain of breweries, historic hotels, and theater pubs across the Northeast."

"Oh, right," she says. "I stayed at the one in Albany for a wedding."

"I helped build that one," I respond. "Not with my own two hands, of course. Along with Brian Tannehill, I'm the 'pitch person' when we bid on new projects. I also handle the construction permits & licensing and work with the spatial designers."

"Sounds like a lot of work for one person." She pads into the kitchen. "Do you do anything with the breweries?"

I let out a light laugh. "Other than drink the beer? No."

"I remember the beer being good." She returns with the bag of kale chips, offering them to me. "I think there was a small movie theater in the one in Albany."

"We have six properties right now, and all but two have theaters. We mostly show classic movies a couple times a day, but the general manager has control over that." I pop a chip into my mouth. "These really are good."

"Thanks." She returns to her chair, and I'm drawn to her lithe body again as she tucks one leg under the other.

"We buy old banks and schools that have been unoccupied for years, and then reimagine them as breweries and inns."

"It's a cool concept," Piper replies. "And reduces our carbon footprint."

"It does." I smile. "Our latest property is in Newport, and it's been hell trying to get all the permits before construction begins. They were supposed to have started two weeks ago, but there are some legal hassles that I have to sort out in person."

She munches on another chip. "Do you have a legal background?"

"God, no—just what I've learned on the job." I shake my hair over my shoulders. "I don't care how much money lawyers make. In my experience they're cold-hearted assholes."

"Agreed." She chuckles. "My ex-boyfriend's dad is an attorney, and he fits the bill perfectly."

"Ex-boyfriend?" I dip my tea bag further into the steaming water.

"We broke up a little over a year ago," she offers. "I don't have time to commit to a relationship while getting my Ph.D."

"Tell me about it—having a full-time job and being a single mother leaves zero time for a personal life," I reply.

Although her head is bowed as she stares at the bag of kale chips, her eyes latch on to mine. I get a sense of mutual understanding—like she appreciates that we're in similar positions in life—I certainly do.

"It would have to be a relationship of convenience for it to work," Piper states. "Anyway, I'm not actively looking."

I try hiding my smirk with my mug. "A sort of bump into them sideways sort of thing?"

Her lips stretch up. "Yeah."

"Mommy?" a groggy voice calls from the top of the stairwell.

"Down here, kiddo."

Piper walks in that direction. "How'd you sleep?"

"Good." Harper rubs her eyes.

"Want some apple juice?" she asks.

She nods.

They spend the next hour coloring, solving a 50-piece puzzle and practicing reading, and I'm as content as I possibly could be with the new nanny.

Trouble is, I'm also intrigued. Is it wrong that I find her attractive? If not wrong, then creepy? My attraction to Piper began on the Subway before I knew she'd be Harper's temporary nanny—it's not like I can banish thoughts of her with the flick of a switch. It's going to take me a while to sort this out.

Author's Note: Don't get accustomed to these long chapters! This was a "getting to know the basics about you" scene that took 12 pages to convey, so it was more of a set the stage chapter than anything else. Tannehill's is based on McMenamin's in the Pacific Northwest. If you're ever out in my neck of the woods and want to stay at a super cool hotel, check them out!