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Amara frowns. “Don’t let her get to you. You’re doing something you love that brings you joy.”
“According to my parents, they know best.” I spin my wineglass, watching the fluid swish. “Enough about me. How’s work going for you?”
“Just the usual this week—cheating spouses, rich guys trying to hide money so they don’t have to pay as much spousal support, and heartbroken kids. If anyone was worrying, the American dream is in full effect in the Bay Area.”
“Sounds grand.”
She shrugs. “I’m not complaining. The pay is good.” She winks and downs the rest of her wine.
Amara puts on a front, but there’s no way all the sadness and destroyed families she witnesses day in and day out wouldn’t get to someone.
A few days later, I park my fifteen-year-old white Honda Civic along the curb, finding the address on the stone wall above the front door. Just to make sure I’m in the right place, I pick up the piece of paper from the passenger seat with the address on it.
Yep. This is it.
I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew the family I’d be working for had money, what with all the secrecy throughout the interview process and the NDA they kept incessantly bringing up.
I’ve worked for rich people before—single working mothers rarely hire full-time nannies—but based on the looks of this house, this family is next level. Maybe one of them is some tech company owner. God knows there are enough of them around here.
I love my job. The hardest part is always saying goodbye to the kids once my assignment is over. At first, I enjoyed the short-term contracts—it kept things interesting and they usually pay a little more—but I’ve been contemplating telling the agency I want a more permanent position.
By the time I turned twenty-eight, I’d expected to have a husband and be starting my own family. But since my disaster of a relationship with my ex, Peter, I’ve sworn off men. Well, mostly. There is one guy I hooked up with as a rebound who hasn’t left my mind, but basically, I enjoy being single. So why not dedicate myself to helping raise someone else’s child and watch them grow up?
I push aside all thoughts of the future and exit my car.
The house isn’t new money. It’s got the architectural charm of a house built over a hundred years ago. All the bushes up the walkway are neatly trimmed and tidy, along with flowers tucked into the dirt. It’s beautiful.
My stomach dances. I’m always a little nervous before I meet a family, and especially the child, since that’s who is really in charge. Let’s face it, if the kid doesn’t like you, you’re out of a job.
All I’ve been told about this child is that he’s about to be six years old. Apparently the mom must travel for work for an extended period and with the father’s schedule, they need full-time live-in help until the mom returns.
The first thing I spot on the way to the door is all the cameras on the roof staring down at me. I knock on the dark wooden door and hold my breath. I hear the pitter-patter of little feet on the other side of the door and someone fiddling with the lock. Another set of footsteps sound. A few seconds later, the door swings open to reveal an attractive blonde slightly older than myself.
“Hi, I’m Violet from the Nanny Pros.”
She smiles and opens the door wider to reveal a sandy-haired boy with hazel eyes staring at me. “Hi, Violet. I’m Hannah, Theo’s mom.” She presses her hand on the little boy’s head.
I bend down so I’m at Theo’s level. “Hi, Theo, I’m excited to meet you. I’m Violet.”
He takes one step forward, away from his mother. “Do you like Lego sets?” From the expression on his face, my answer is a make-or-break moment in our new relationship.
“IloveLegos.”
“They’re the best! I’m working on a NASA rocket. Wanna see?” He holds his hand out and I glance at Hannah.
“Theo’s dad will be home any minute. He got caught in traffic.”
I nod and accept Theo’s hand. “I can’t wait to see.”
He leads me past several big rooms. Though the house is older, you wouldn’t guess from the openness. The decor and furnishings are more modern than traditional. In the corner of the massive family room is a table strewn with bags of Lego bricks and a half-constructed space shuttle at one end.
“Wow. Theo, this is awesome. Did you do this yourself?” I bend to inspect the inside of the shuttle.
“My dad helps.” His pride-filled face suggests this is something he enjoys doing with his father.
“You guys are doing great. Maybe I can help you with your Lego sets sometime?”
His smile dims. Shit, wrong thing to say. “Okay, but not this one. This one is just for me and my dad.”
