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Josie wasn’t a part of the picture anymore.
Carol, the nanny, had come highly recommended. A family friend had gushed about how she stayed with the family until the children didn’t need her anymore. But Carol left me after a single sick day. Just like that.
As if the last four years meant nothing at all.
“Daddy.” Collins leveled a look at me that was pure Josie—a look that said she was going to get what she wanted or else. “I have to potty. Now.”
“Baby, we are in the car.” I motored around a minivan and barely made the exit. “On the road. Almost there.”
“You said we would be there by one hundred.”
“Did you get to one hundred, Collie?”
A stroke of luck—I made it through the light at the intersection and likely burned rubber drifting into our corporate parking lot.
“No,” my daughter admitted.
“Let’s count together, then,” I said, willing myself to be calm. My child was potty trained, and she hadn’t had an accident in nearly two years. Although she liked to solve her boredom through trips to the restroom whenever she could, she probably wouldn’t have an accident in her car seat, in a Tesla, on the first day I had to take her to work with me because I didn’t have any other options.
Right?
“From ten,” I said, willing Collins to hold it—to hold everything—together. “Ten, nine…”
“Eight, seven, six…”
“Five, four, three…” I screeched to a halt in a parking spot and bolted out of the car.
“Two, one, blastoff!”
Collins screeched as I retrieved her from the backseat, and I was extremely relieved she was still dry.
“We’re here,” I announced needlessly. “Potty’s inside.”
“I don’t need to potty,” Collins announced haughtily. “I want to go to the cafeteria.”
“Later, baby,” I said as I tried my best not to lose my shit when my daughter tugged free from my grip and sprinted toward the entrance of the building. “Collins! No running!”
As far as Mondays go, this one was pretty shitty.
I finally caught up to my daughter in the lobby, corralling her before she could jet off to the cafeteria—a route she knew by heart.
“We had breakfast before we left, remember?” I informed her, tucking her under my arm like a briefcase. “Come on. Time to get to work.”
She giggled at the swinging pace I struck—far from the prying eyes of employees—as I stopped short outside my office. Rita, my secretary, was in the midst of a heated discussion with another woman just outside the door.
When the woman noticed Collins and me approaching, she stopped what she was doing and squealed. Loudly.
“Oh my goodness, you’re so cute!” she exclaimed, springing forward to get in Collins’ face. “Aren’t you just the cutest little girl in the whole wide world?”
“What the hell is this?” I hissed at Rita as Collins recoiled around my leg.
“She said she had an appointment,” my secretary muttered. “Not on my books.”
“Ma’am.” I took a meaningful step backward, shepherding Collins away. “You need to leave.”
“I’m right on time,” she insisted, flipping her platinum blonde hair off her shoulder. “I’m Bebe Wild, applying for your open nanny position.” She leaned forward, exposing ample cleavage spilling from her blouse as she rippled her fingers at Collins. “Hi, cutie. Want to play with me?”
“That’s enough,” I barked, running out of patience. “Get out of here. I don’t know who sent you, but this is not the time or place for this kind of interview.”
