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I allow him to check me out as I assess him. His gaze travels my body, and there’s clear interest in his eyes, but it’s missing something.
Something vital.
Sure, he’s clearly attracted to me, and he would probably thoroughly enjoy a night alone with me, but it’s as if he finds himself unworthy of more.
Play the girl, before she plays you.
I’d bet money that when I look in his file, I’ll find strong abandonment issues much like my third target, and an unhealthy dose of broken heart.
Bellamy Grimes is clearly a wealthy man, but he’s missing something that needs to be healed before he can truly love another person.
A woman in a dress that barely covers her well-toned ass slinks up to him, wrapping herself around him, and I sigh. Guess I better leave him to it.
He doesn’t know it yet, but he won’t be having any meaningless sex for a while after tonight. Enjoy it, buddy.
* * *
Trying to hunt Milo, my last target, down was much harder. The single father to his little boy, Cooper, spends almost no time doing anything for himself.
Either he’s working or taking care of the surprisingly cute six-year-old. I won’t say I’m excited to be his nanny, but after seeing him, I guess I’m less annoyed. Hard to feel anything other than adoration when a kid is that cute. From the smattering of freckles across his nose to his short, dark hair that looks like it’s always messy, this hazel-eyed cutie is going to be hard not to like.
So here I sit at the playground. It’s a nice one. Built in the same complex as his overly fancy apartment. But I suppose when three rich men all live in the same home, it’s going to be large and unreasonably excessive.
It’s a safe neighborhood, and the schools here are supreme, at least that’s what the older woman beside me keeps saying.
I frown, as I sip my iced coffee. I’m wearing gloves because it’s cold here in New York this time of year, and of course, thick white stockings under my pink dress and a hot pink winter jacket.
I’ve gotten multiple side-eyed looks because of the iced drink, but what can I say, I prefer it icy.
Milo engages with his son completely. His full focus is on his child, as the young boy laughs and runs around, not a care in the world.
He doesn’t allow his son to see his hurt or pain. I can see it, though. In the way his pale blue eyes linger on a happy couple pushing a stroller, or the way he glares at the women ogling him. Which I don’t blame them for. Much like his two friends, he’s attractive enough to melt the panties off any girl if he wanted to.
His soft black hair is a bit long and messy at the top like he hasn’t had it cut in a while. His beard is also rather full and slightly unkempt but adds a rugged look to him. He’s got a bit of a dad bod, but I personally find it extremely nice to look at anyway. He’s built more broadly than Bellamy or Clay and has the most height on either of the other two. Even as he gives Cooper looks of pure adoration, though, you can see the tiredness of them. Like he’s just given up.
He’s been so scorned by love, and his heart is so locked up, that I’m being sent in. That’s when you know it’s bad. Although last time was so easy, I could have done it asleep.
I down the rest of my coffee, but keep the empty container. I recycle them. And by that I mean I have a collection at home where I hide my stash. Besides, single-use plastics are killing the planet. I’m just being an environmentalist. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it, thank you.
It’s time to get to work. Fingers crossed because it’s not going to be easy.
3
True
“He-helloo.” I’m speaking in the most crotchety old lady voice I can as I attempt to hold back a giggle.
This is the fourth call I’ve made to Milo’s cell, pretending to be another nanny applying for the job.
“Oh. Uh.” Milo can tell by my voice that I’m old. Or, at least, the voice is.
“I’m seventy-two, dear, not dead. Try to keep up. I have been a nanny for over fifty years, and I’m looking for work. I’ll need to bring my three cats with me, though. I understand this is a live-in position?” I ask, stifling my giggle once more.
“Sorry, the position was filled,” he rushes, before hanging up.
I throw my head back and cackle. Eros was right, I do have my ways.
I give it about twenty minutes before I make another call, giving him time to process how awful his last “candidate” was. I put on the deepest, most southern tone I possibly can when he answers.
