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I nodded, feeling the need to bleed to blink rapidly again. “That’s good advice. Thank you.”
After gathering the papers and hurrying from the office, I rushed down the hallway to the nearest bathroom. Once inside, I closed myself into the stall and allowed silent tears to flow freely down my cheeks. It was a habit I’d gotten into during childhood, when I realized that tears distressed my father, who had no ability to cope with them. He’d often end up crying alongside me, and tell me all about his sad and miserable life. At some point, I learned to hide my negative emotions from him—to protect him.
And what good had it done? He’d certainly never made much of an effort to protect me. Sure, there’d been food on the table most of the time, and usually a place to live, but that had been it. No birthdays, and no Santa at Christmas. Just broken promises. Sure, I had babysitting for the occasional little thing I might have wanted, but it still hurt. But beyond gifts, it would be a crap shoot whether or not the electricity would be on from month to month, depending on whether Dad had a hunch on the horses, or somebody convinced him to buy in on an MLM scheme. There were probably a hundred financial failures that followed in his wake, yet he never seemed to learn from a single one of them.
And apparently, he never learned not to send a check he couldn’t cover to Columbia University to pay for his daughter’s one shot at a real future.
My phone went off again as I was reaching for the toilet paper roll to tear off a strip. I blew my nose and wiped my cheeks before swiping the phone to accept the call. It was an unfamiliar number, and my stomach churned with fear as I wondered if it was someone calling to collect a debt from my father. It wouldn’t be the first time that bill collectors harassed me now that I turned eighteen. They’d be hoping to track down my father’s whereabouts, or trying to push me into paying his bills. It was sad that as an eighteen-year-o
ld, I practically memorized the fair debt collections practices act so I could protect myself against these predatory collection agents.
“Hello?”
“Is this Lindsay Valentine?” asked the voice with a slight English accent.
“Yes.” I let out the breath I was holding in relief. Debt collectors usually didn’t sound British.
“My name is Eric Baylor, and I work for Ben Hudson. He would like to offer you a job, Ms. Valentine.”
My mouth dropped open in shock. “Ben Hudson wants to hire me? To do what?” Ben’s handsome face swam before my mind’s eye. Before he and Ashe moved away from our building and into that fancy complex in downtown Manhattan, I’d had such a crush on him. Of course I was only twelve, and the babysitter. Back then, they were still more like regular people than billionaires. He’d always been kind to me, though we hadn’t interacted too much. I’d certainly preferred seeing him to his wife, though I usually had to deal with her. Mostly, I just spent time taking care of sweet little Elle, who hadn’t been any trouble at all.
“Miss Valentine, Mr. Hudson is looking for a nanny for his daughter. Would you be interested in taking that on?”
I took a deep breath as I was starting to tremble, though I wasn’t certain if it was from anxiety or anticipation. “A nanny for Elle? But... I’m not trained to work as a nanny.”
He sounded impatient. “That doesn’t really matter, Ms. Valentine. Elle has specifically requested you, and Ben wants to do his utmost to make her happy and comfortable. She’s had a rough time since the divorce.”
My heart swelled at the news, though it was kind of an unseemly reaction to have. “They divorced—?” I felt like a terrible person for my surge of happiness at the idea, since it broke up a family and likely left Elle devastated. “I assume he has part-time custody of Elle and just wants someone to fill in on his weekends?” He’d always been so busy when we lived next door that I assumed he was still the same workaholic. Back in the day it seemed like work came before family with Ben Hudson. That was the one thing I hadn’t particularly admired about him. No matter how handsome he might be, or how much he sparked forbidden ideas in my teenage head.
“Yes, the divorce has been final for the past year, but he has full custody so he’s looking for someone full-time. I’m authorized to make you an offer you can’t refuse, so what might that be?”
Without thinking about it, I blurted out the amount I still owed for tuition, including the final installment that wasn’t yet due. “I need that as a signing bonus, and then living expenses and room and board?” I suggested the last part tentatively, not certain if they wanted a live-in nanny or not. It would be an ideal solution for me, since I didn’t particularly care for my roommates, and I’d love to have my own room again instead of sharing with two other girls. The apartment we’d taken near campus was this side of a slum, and I’d happily trade it for digs at the Imperial any day—even if it meant sleeping in a storage closet, which would probably still be roomier than my curtained-off section of the bedroom I shared with the other two girls.
“I’ll relay that, but I can’t imagine it will be a problem. How about you pack your things and plan to show up tomorrow morning at seven? Be ready to work, Ms. Valentine.”
“Wow, okay!” I licked my lips. “And you’ll tell me if there’s a problem with my proposal?”
Mr. Baylor laughed. “I’ll certainly call you, but I can practically guarantee there will be no problem. He’s desperate enough to pay twice that amount, though maybe I shouldn’t tell you that.”
“I have no intention of taking advantage of him,” I said, shocked. “I wouldn’t do that to him or Elle.”
His tone was more serious when he responded. “I didn’t mean to offend you, and I wasn’t trying to imply you would. I’m just telling you that he practically would’ve given you the earth if that’s what you demanded to help with Elle. He’s worried about her, and she is such a lost little soul. I hope you’re ready to deal with all that.”
My stomach clenched with nerves. “I hope so too,” I answered softly.
It was sad to think Elle wasn’t the adorable, sweet little girl I had babysat years ago. I wasn’t certain what I was getting into, but whatever it might be had to be better than my current prospects for the future—getting another part-time job and detouring to community college for a couple of years. And that was if I could afford to put myself through school at all. If I didn’t, there went my dreams of owning a gallery and being financially stable. I’d be waitressing and worse, while occasionally painting for fun, if I had the time, energy, and money for supplies. It wouldn’t be that difficult to help Elle, since she used to be such a sweet child. She’d get back there. Wouldn’t she?
It certainly wouldn’t be hard to see Ben Hudson either, but that was a thought I couldn’t afford to have. He was probably nearly twice my age, now divorced from his flake of an ex-wife, and obviously dealing with family problems. I was still practically the same girl I’d been before, though I might be more grown up. I was more mature as well, but I wasn’t stupid enough to fool myself into thinking I could handle a man like Ben Hudson. I was taking this job because I needed the money, and Elle needed me, and that was all there was to it.
I put his handsome face out of my mind.
Chapter 3
Ben
My phone rang just as I was wrapping up the meeting with the new client. I moved off to the side of the conference room as my assistant escorted Mr. Collins and his crew from the room. “Hello?”
“She said yes,” said Erik Baylor briskly.
