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My stomach constricts at her words as tears fall from Maisey’s big eyes. At this moment, there is nothing I hate more thanCamdyn Schriefer. She didn’t just break my heart but Maisey’s as well.
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“This is Shantal Magnuson from the Top Notch Nannies Agency, how can I help you?”
“Hi Shantal, this is Parker Madison calling again,” I say into the phone.
I hear Shantal sigh.
“Mr. Parker. Let me guess, you need a new nanny?”
I shake my head at myself in disgust. Of course I need a new nanny.
Ever since the Cam fiasco was in the tabloids three weeks ago, we have been through six nannies. Each one thinking that they can win me over like Cam did.
No one knows the truth that I actually fell in love with her. Everyone thinks it was all fake. They think it was a ruse to take away from the abuse allegations from Nicoli. I have been painted as a villain in the papers. As a woman hater who only uses women. Which couldn’t be further from the truth.
“How did you know?” I chuckle.
“Mr. Madison, can I be frank with you?”
“Of course Shantal.”
I swallow, worried about what she has to say.
“I think it is time you try and find a different company. Since you hired us we’ve been through over fifteen nannies and I don’t want to keep giving girls the chance and then having them be let go by you. I can give you the names of other agencies if you’re interested.”
My stomach plummets. If I don’t have a nanny then there is no one to watch Maisey while I’m at work.
“No, I’ll figure something out. Thanks Shantal,” I say.
We hang up and I hang my head down low.
There is nothing I can do but call into work. Maisey comes first and I have the time to take off.
Work is understanding, I mean I am the boss, but I feel guilty for leaving them hanging but seeing Maisey smile to see me in the morning is worth it.
“Morning Maisey.”
“Daddy! I thought you had work?”
“I’m off for the time being. I want to spend more time with you,” I fib.
Maisey jumps out of bed and into my arms.
I help her get ready for the day before making chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast.
As I flip the last pancake onto Maisey’s plate, my phone rings.
I don’t recognize the number.
“Hello, this is Parker Madison,” I say skeptically into the phone.
“Mr. Madison. This is Officer Yang from the NYPD.”
My heart sinks.
Why are the cops calling me?
