Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
But I can’t.
I just can’t do it.
Not only would it humiliate and hurt them, and I don’t want to do either, it would only make things worse for me. And I guess the guy at the other end of this. Hairy or not—and his name was Maxwell Stone, which sounds very much like a good name for a warty troll with butt crack hair past needing a good trim—I don’t want to call him out. Maybe he’s nice. Maybe he has a good story. I can’t be so heartless that I’d hurt other people for cash. It’s not who I am, and it’s never who I’m going to be.
No matter how desperate and lost I am.
CHAPTER 2
Feeney
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Seriously? Me? A nanny?” We’re sitting in Sam’s expensive new SUV. Her family might be rich, but they’re pretty ‘normal.’ At least she gets to drive herself and doesn’t have to be chauffeured around the way some people do.
“You’re good with kids, so why not? And this one is normal. Not all rich and spoiled. Luke lives in Miami. I’ll drive you there, don’t worry.”
“Because! I’m not good with kids. I’m good with babies. And we really only have your sister’s baby to go on.”
“Caroline’s kid is a brat,” Sam good-naturedly says about her sister’s daughter.
“How can an eight-month-old baby be a brat?”
“She doesn’t let Caroline sleep. Ever. And she’s picky about nursing. Won’t take a bottle, so Caroline is tied to her constantly, and she also cries all the time.”
“I think most babies are like that.”
“Caroline’s been through two nannies because none of them can stand it.”
“I see.”
“But this kid isn’t a baby. He’s four, and he’s a nice kid. Luke’s a friend of the family. He’s had a really rough go of it after his wife died. It was really sudden. She got diagnosed with pancreatic cancer out of nowhere, and then she was gone four months later. Shade was only two when she died.”
“Shade? What kind of a name is Shade?”
“I know,” Sam laughs. “It might be weird, but he’s a nice kid.”
“So you keep saying. That usually means it’s not true. He’s probably a monster.”
Sam looks injured. “Do you think I’d suggest a job to you where you have to take care of a snotty-nosed, monstrous little brat when you need it most?”
“It’s not like I have anywhere else to go or any other options. You don’t know of anyone who needs a roommate, and I don’t have a job to afford a place of my own. I can’t stay with you. I also can’t let you set me up in an apartment and take money from you like that until I get a job. Anyway, it would be too obvious. My parents would find me right away too. They’d set up security in the building or probably pay someone to kidnap me and drag me back home.”
“Jesus. Are you serious?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug.
We’ve already gone over this, over everything that happened. Honestly, I don’t have a lot of information for Sam. It was just so out of character for my parents to suddenly ask me to marry someone. I didn’t really give them a chance to explain, but I kept telling myself they didn’t deserve it. They’re not the type of parents who would just throw me into a deal like someone would tempt a dog with a juicy piece of meat. It’s not them. They might have been slightly absent from my life for the most part, but I know they love me. How could they possibly think that not even asking me is best for me? It doesn’t make any sense.
“I don’t want to think about it anymore. I just want to do something.”
“Well, Luke is looking for a nanny. It’s a live-in position like I told you. You’d be looking after his son, for the most part. You’d probably have to do some basic cooking and cleaning, but I know Luke has an actual housekeeper who comes and cleans a few times a week, so it would likely be pretty minimal.”
“Cooking?” I can’t keep the despair out of my voice or off my face.
“You’ll learn fast,” Sam assures me like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
I’ve never really made a meal in my life. My parents have a chef, and the fridge is always full. My mom is always on a special diet, and it’s complicated—all the time—so of course, they’d pay someone to make sure she gets the right meals. And while they’re at it, they put something in the fridge for my dad and me too. But that’s not all. My parents also have two full-time cleaners, a gardener, another guy for the pool, personal trainers, blah, blah, blah. My mom is a bit of a tyrant to work for, and the staff members are constantly changing. I feel bad now when I have to admit to myself that I stopped trying to learn their names or get to know them.