by Kate Hunt
The Secret Billionaire's Nanny
A Single Dad & Nanny Romance
Kate Hunt
Copyright © 2019 by Kate Hunt
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
1. Sophia
2. Lucas
3. Sophia
4. Lucas
5. Sophia
6. Lucas
7. Sophia
8. Lucas
9. Sophia
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Chapter One
Sophia
“You still haven’t figured out what you’re going to do after graduation, right?” asks my friend Ava. The two of us have just met up and we’re heading off campus for celebratory drinks. It’s our last day of college, and a beautiful day at that.
“Oh, come on,” I groan. “Can’t we just enjoy this moment?”
“Answer the question, Sophia,” she insists.
“The answer’s no,” I say. “I haven’t figured out what I’m going to do. Besides paint, I mean. But it’s not like that’s going to earn me any money.”
I knew when I declared my major in art that I was setting myself up for a difficult future. But there simply wasn’t anything else I was passionate about. I mean, I guess I could have picked a more practical but still artistic major, like industrial design, which is what Ava did. But I had to follow my heart.
“The reason I ask,” says Ava, “is because I have the perfect job for you.”
“Yeah? What job is that?”
“Mine. My nanny job. If you want it, it’s all yours.”
I look at her like she’s crazy. Me? Take her nanny job? Not only do I not have any experience babysitting kids, but I’m always at a loss about how to interact with them. Ava’s never had an opportunity to witness it herself, but I’ve told her how awkward I get. I told her all about it when she first started nannying part-time at the beginning of our junior year.
“Hear me out,” says Ava as we continue to walk. “Because I’m sure you’re already coming up with a million reasons why you can’t do it. But Penelope is a really sweet kid. She’s not difficult to look after at all. And her dad, Lucas, is super chill. He pays well, too.”
“Even if I was interested,” I say. “Why would he hire me? I’ve never been a nanny before. I’ve never even babysat.”
“He’ll hire you because I already told him how awesome you are.”
“Ava!”
She smiles guiltily. “What? It’s true. Listen. When I told him I was moving after graduation and that he’d have to find someone new to watch Penelope, he asked if I could personally recommend anybody. And I couldn’t just say no.”
“So you recommended me,” I say, shaking my head.
“Will you at least think about it?” Ava pleads. “I really think you’d be good at it.”
“Fine. I’ll think about it.” I sigh. “What would the hours be?”
Ava grins. “Five days a week. Eight-to-five each day. You’d start in three weeks.”
“Three weeks from now? But you’re leaving next week.”
“Lucas and Penelope are on vacation for the next few weeks. He doesn’t need anybody to watch her until they get back.”
“He seriously didn’t figure all this out before leaving?”
“He’s a busy guy.”
I let out a long, slow breath. “Okay.”
Ava’s eyes brighten. “Okay as in…you’ll do it?”
“No. Okay as in I’ll think about it.”
By the end of the evening, though, Ava has gotten me to agree to give it a shot. She’s skillfully persuasive like that. The following morning, I get an email from Lucas: he introduces himself, thanks me for helping him out, proposes an hourly rate, and asks if I’m available to start on a certain day. The hourly rate is higher than I expect, and I get a warm vibe from his email. Oh, what the hell. I write back and tell him that everything sounds good.
Over the next several days, as I help Ava pack up her apartment, she tells me everything I need to know about looking after Penelope. She does sound like a pretty independent, easy kid, and my nerves are somewhat put at ease.
But the moment that Ava leaves—she’s moving to San Fransisco to start a design internship—my nerves come right back. And as the days pass, and my first day of nannying approaches, I really start doubting my decision. I even start thinking of ways I can back out of it—but every excuse I come up with seems so lame.
Then, eventually, it’s the night before my first day. And it’s too late to back out.
Sophia — I’m really sorry to do this, but I have to run into the office early and I can’t be at the house to meet you this morning. Penelope’s fine on her own for a short while, though, and she’ll be happy to show you around. The secret password is “bubblegum.” (Penelope’s idea.) Please call if you have any concerns.
I’m almost done getting ready when I see the text from Lucas. And even though the change in plans doesn’t help my nerves, I send him a calm reply back: No worries. Thanks for the update.
Twenty minutes later, I’m parking outside their house, trying to mentally prepare myself for the day ahead.
When I walk up to the house and knock on the door, I hear a set of small footsteps approach from the other side. Then a young voice calls out, “Who’s there?”
“It’s Sophia,” I call through the door.
“What’s the password?”
“Bubblegum.”
“And the second password?”
Second password? Oh, shit.
“Um…” I say. Should I make a guess? Rainbow? Unicorn?
But then the door opens up.
“Just kidding,” says Penelope, grinning. “There’s no second password.”
I laugh. “Okay. Whew.”
Penelope cocks her head to the side and studies me. “So you’re my new nanny?”
“I am,” I say. “My name’s Sophia. I guess I said that already. So, uh...did your dad tell you anything about me?”
“A little bit,” she says. She opens the door wider and steps back to let me in. “You don’t have to take your shoes off if you don’t want to. But if you do, you can put them right there.”
“Okay,” I say. “Thanks.” I take my shoes off and glance around. Their home is cozy and bright. “So…what do you want to do, Penelope?”
She shrugs. “Do you want to see the rest of the house?”
“Sure,” I say.
She smiles. “Then follow me.”
I don’t know what it is about Penelope, but I don’t feel as awkward around her as I normally do around kids. Maybe it’s because she seems so grown-up. She’s so polite and funny and smart. As she shows me around the house, she adds her own little commentary, like, “That’s the coffee table my dad always bangs his shin into,” and “When I was four, I drew on the wall right there, but it’s painted over now.”
By the end of her tour, I feel like I know the house inside and out.
But I still don’t know a ton about Penelope, so I ask her what her favorite things are to do. She says reading, art, making up dances, and hanging out with her friends.
“Cool,” I say. “Well…should we do one of those things? Maybe some art?”
“Yeah, that sounds fun,” sh
e says.
“Want to show me where your art supplies are?”
She grins. “Wait until you see all the stuff I have.”
One of the things I was nervous about before meeting Penelope was how the two of us were going to pass the time. Spending nine straight hours together sounded like such a long time.
But between doing art together, preparing and eating lunch, and then watching a couple episodes of her favorite show on TV, the day actually ends up going by pretty fast. Before I know it, it’s after five o’clock, and I can hear the front door of the house opening up.
“Hello,” a strong, deep voice calls out. I stand up as her dad walks into the living room. Immediately, I’m struck by how handsome Lucas is: he’s tall, broad-shouldered, and has what can only be described as a beautiful face.
“Hi,” I say, stepping forward, thrusting out my hand. “I’m Sophia.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “I figured. It’s nice to meet you, Sophia.”
His palm is warm against mine.
“Can Sophia stay for dinner, Dad?” Penelope asks, her eyes still glued to the TV.
“What, I don’t get a hug hello?” Lucas says.
Penelope gets up and obliges him. Then, with her arms still wrapped around his waist, she looks up at him and says, “Well? Can she?”
“She’s certainly welcome to,” says Lucas, his gorgeous eyes moving back to me. “Well, Sophia? What do you think?”
I swallow. What do I think?
I think Lucas is frickin’ hot.
I think I’m very much attracted to him.
And I think I’m in deep trouble.
Chapter Two
Lucas
“Um,” says Sophia, when she stops chewing on the inside of her lip, “thank you for the invitation. But I think I should actually get going.”
“Are you sure I can’t convince you?” I say. “I’m not going to make you stay. But I’d sure like to get to know the woman who’s looking after my daughter.”
“Right,” she says. “No, of course.”
“So is that a yes?”
She slowly nods. “Okay, sure. I guess I can stay.”
I’m happy to hear it. Happy, but also a little pissed off at myself. Because I already know that getting to know Sophia better is just going to make me more attracted to her. From the moment I laid my eyes on her, I felt a yearning that I haven’t felt for anyone in a long time.
And it doesn’t take a genius to know that being attracted to your kid’s nanny spells disaster.
Back when Ava recommended Sophia to me as her replacement, the possibility of this kind of scenario happening never crossed my mind. The only thing I was focused on was finding someone who was as caring and trustworthy and easy to work with as Ava was.
And it was easy for Ava to convince me that her friend would be a good fit.
Tearing my gaze from Sophia, I head into the kitchen and start prepping dinner. Penelope and I have ten or so different dinners that we rotate through, and all of them are simple to make. I wish I was more creative in the kitchen, but it’s just not my forte.
Tonight’s taco night. I gather the fixings and set the oven on low to heat up the shells. It’s mostly just a lot of chopping, and I don’t need any help. But when I look up from opening a can of olives, I see Sophia standing a few feet away.
“How can I help?” she asks.
“No need,” I say.
“I’d rather make myself useful than just stand here.”
I open a drawer and pull out another knife. “How are you at slicing olives?”
“Funny you ask,” she says, “because I have a gold medal in olive slicing.”
A laugh bursts from my lips.
“All right,” I say. “Here you go, champ.”
Sophia takes her place beside me at the counter and we work together prepping the rest of the food. There’s a natural ease with which we move around the kitchen—it’s like a perfectly synched dance.
“Ava said you paint, Sophia?” I say.
“I do,” she says. “It’s what I majored in.”
“What are your paintings like?”
“They’re abstract. My style is still evolving. Well, I mean, an artist’s style is always evolving. But right now, especially, my work can vary a lot from canvas to canvas.”
“I see.” I’m playing it cool on the outside, but really, I’m in awe of her even more now.
“What do you do for work?” Sophia asks, scooping the sliced olives into a bowl. “I’m sure Ava told me at some point, but I can’t seem to remember now.”
“I’m an art director at an ad agency.”
“Oh. Cool.”
“Tell the truth. Do you view me as the bad guy? An evil promoter of consumerism?”
She laughs. “No. Don’t worry. I’m not like that.”
We carry the bowls of taco fixings out to the dining table. It takes several trips to bring everything out, but Penelope eventually joins in, too, helping out by setting the table.
Then the three of us sit down around the table—and it feels as if it’s an ordinary family dinner.
Between bites of taco, we continue to talk. It’s commonplace conversation, and yet I find every second of it interesting.
Especially when Penelope asks Sophia if she has a boyfriend, and Sophia says, “Nope. I don’t.”
At hearing Sophia’s answer, Penelope nods, then says, matter-of-factly, “My dad’s not dating anyone, either.”
I can tell that Penelope’s not implying anything by it. My sweet girl is simply stating a fact. But Sophia looks embarrassed. Clearly, she doesn’t know what to make of the statement.
Quickly, I say, “Why don’t you tell Sophia what you’re most excited about for the summer, Pen?”
My daughter smiles, then starts to count off her list on her fingers.
“Hot date last night or something?”
The question comes from Tran, a coworker. It’s the next morning, and I’m in the break room pouring myself a cup of coffee.
I finish pouring my cup and look up at Tran. “What makes you think that?”
“I dunno, man. You’ve just got this...look on your face.”
“Guess I’m just in a good mood,” I say, shrugging. But I can tell he doesn’t buy it. He knows something’s up. No way in hell am I going to tell him the truth, though.
“Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad,” he says, grabbing a mug from the rack beside the sink. “Because we need all the positivity we can get for the Scott & Sons meeting.”
Shit. I almost forgot. We have a critical meeting with one of our clients today. We recently found out that they’ve been considering switching to another agency, thanks to some stupid reasons that are more about politics than good work. We’re going to have to fight like hell if we want to keep them.
“Meet at your desk in five to go over our talking points?” I say to Tran.
He nods. “You read my mind.”
Later, when the guys from Scott & Sons show up, we get off to a good start. The first half of the presentation goes off without a hitch, and as I watch the expressions on our clients’ faces, I’m hopeful that we’re being convincing enough to make them stay.
But then we get to the part in the presentation when Tran starts talking about our proposed tagline for their rebrand—“When you see the right one, you know.” And when he says those words, they echo in my head. Over and over again.
And I can’t get the words, or Sophia, out of my mind.
“Lucas?”
I snap out of it and realize that everyone in the room is looking at me. I shift from one foot to the other and clear my throat. Tran is done with his part of the presentation. It’s my turn to speak.
“Right,” I say. “Now let’s talk about the future.”
Chapter Three
Sophia
I see Lucas for less than a minute the next morning when I show up to start my day with Penelope. He’s on his way out, looking distracte
d and serious—or maybe he’s just avoiding making too much eye contact with me.
Which would make sense, because I’ve got a feeling the desire I feel for him is mutual.
Lucas says goodbye and heads out the door. After he leaves, Penelope tells me to come with her and she leads me up to her room. She showed it off to me yesterday during the tour, but there’s something different about it now. I can’t quite put my finger on it, though.
“Do you like it?” Penelope asks.
“Sorry,” I say. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”
“My animals,” she says. She gestures to her collection of toys. Oh. That’s what’s different. I don’t remember how she had them organized before, but they’re all arranged on top of her dresser now.
“I do,” I say. I walk over to the toys and pick up a small stuffed hippo. “This one’s really cute.”
“My mom gave that to me,” she says. “She died when I was a baby.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” My chest aches for her. Ava told me that Penelope’s mom died years ago, but it feels a lot sadder now to hear it straight from Penelope. No little girl should have to speak those words.
“Do you want to play zoo?” Penelope asks.
I blink a few times, warding away tears. “Of course. How do we start?”
“We put the animals around the room. But you have to be really careful to not put enemies next to each other. Like...the elephant can’t be next to the penguin.”
I smile. “I didn’t realize elephants and penguins are enemies.”
“Not all of them are, silly,” says Penelope.
“Right,” I say, stifling a laugh. “Okay. Where should the hippo go?”
