So, I was thrilled earlier when Becky told me their friend Ricky needed a full-time nanny for his daughter. I was so excited. I had been advertising everywhere and not really getting much response since my previous employer had abruptly moved out of the city two weeks ago. It had been rough, but luckily my roommate and best friend Tessa was sweet enough to pick up the slack on food and bills until I was fully employed again.
I was sitting at the table doing some sketches when I heard the scratching noise again. The house was dead quiet since I put the kids to bed about an hour and a half earlier. I thought maybe I might turn the television on to distract me, but I stopped myself as I wanted to be aware of if the kids were up wandering around or fighting sleep as four-year-old’s often did. I couldn’t remember a time when I had ever fought the idea of having ten straight hours of sleep at the end of every day with no other responsibilities. One day they would miss this period in their lives, too.
I stopped sketching and glanced around. I waited a moment and held my breath to hear nothing but deafening silence. Then I heard the scratching again. My overactive artistic imagination started to go into overdrive and I was picturing some maniac trying to break in.
I knew that I would not rest easy until I went to investigate. The noise was coming from upstairs. I glanced up at the ceiling for a few seconds, just listening. I heard nothing. Then I stood up slowly and I continued to listen intently. There it was again. What was that I was hearing?
The sounds of the house settling interspersed with the slight bit of scratches that I continued to hear. I was feeling a bit uneasy, but I forced myself to walk through the living room to the staircase. Then I made my feet march up the steps, moving slowly, step by step, one at a time. I was trying to be quiet because I didn’t want to wake the kids up, and because I did not want to face what might be something terribly frightening making that awful sound.
I felt silly. I was being scared over what would probably turn out to be nothing. Really, as I thought about it, I had just been feeling very uneasy. I was uneasy with life. Losing my stable source of income which I’d held for almost two years had really shaken my confidence and made me re-evaluate where I was in my life. What was I doing? I loved being a nanny. I loved working with kids and taking care of them, but was it really what I wanted to do professionally forever? I wasn’t sure. Well, actually I knew the answer to that question. It was no.
I wanted to be an artist. Ever since I was a kid, it was all I’d wanted to do. After high school, I applied to several art schools, but they had all rejected me. This hurt my confidence so badly that I hadn’t touched a brush or even sketched anything for almost a year afterwards. Gradually, I came to it again and I just did the art for myself. I desperately wanted to be a real, professional artist. That was the dream. And one day I wanted a family with several kids.
And of course, I needed the perfect man to make that happen. I was becoming increasingly aware that this perfect man did not exist and was only a figment of my imagination. My dating record was less than stellar. My last relationship had lasted only three months and then I’d been dumped out of the blue. I wasn’t really given an explanation at all. “It just isn’t working out”. That was all Jeremy had said, but without any real explanation at all. It was unbelievable. But I had the worst track record with men.
It was no wonder I was saving myself for the right guy. I was proud to be a virgin. I always told myself that I would give my V-card away to the right man, not necessarily the guy I wanted to marry, but the right man. It was going to be a very special thing and he would have to be the perfect man to make that happen. I wasn’t exactly sure what criteria that man would have to meet but I was sure I would know it when I met him. That I was certain of. All of my girlfriends thought I was crazy.
I made it upstairs and paused a moment to listen again. I heard nothing. Making my way over to the kids’ room, I opened the door quietly to peer inside. They were both deeply asleep. I closed the door gently and stood there for a moment. What in the hell was I hearing? It was gone now? Was it downstairs after all?
I headed towards the stairs, but stopped dead in my tracks when the sound grazed the air. The scratching sounds once again. Where was it coming from? I paused a moment to listen to it and then I realized that it sounded like it was coming from the master bedroom.
I entered the master bedroom and flicked on the light. I felt weird being in the Normans’ bedroom (where the magic happened, I presumed). I giggled at my own joke. I wondered how often the Normans got it on. They had been married for years and they had two young kids. Did they ever have the time or the opportunity anymore? I did want a family one day, but I swore that my husband and I would make the time to be intimate with each other no matter what. I knew it was important in a marriage.
Looking around the room, I was impressed to see a king-sized bed, a large chair in the corner, and a small library of books in a glass case. I moved over to take a closer look. Most of the books appeared to be fairly ordinary mystery/suspense thrillers. I wondered why they were treated so well. It was weird.
After finding nothing, I started to leave. Then I heard the scratching noises right behind me. They were very loud. I almost jumped out of my skin and I couldn’t help but yell a bit out of fear. It was so close. What was about to happen to me?
But after a moment of coming to the realization that I was in fact, perfectly fine, I turned around and saw the culprit that had been making so much racket and scaring me to death. There was a small branch scraping back and forth against the window in the wind.
“Really? Wow, girl. You’ve got to get ahold of yourself. This is nuts.”
I laughed at my delusion, turned off the light, and left the room. I felt very silly, but at least I’d had myself a little bit of an adventure for the evening. I went back downstairs and resumed my drawing.
The scratching did not seem so loud anymore. I wondered how the Normans slept with that racket going on though.
It wasn’t my business, but I wondered if they were too busy making love and loud noises that they didn’t notice. Wow, my head had really been in the gutter lately. I wasn’t sure why, but lately I’d been so worked up that I’d been thinking about sex almost nonstop. I really needed to find that man, I thought. But no matter how curious and hot I was, I did not want to give in and break my principles. I would only get one shot at the first time, and I wanted it to be very special. That’s the way I’d always been and that was the way I would stay. I wasn’t going to give in on this.
After sketching for about another ten minutes I heard the Normans come in. I greeted them warmly and decided not to tell them about my little adventure to their room. That would stay my little secret, as well as my musings about their sex life. I’d wanted to snoop in their room and see what type of paraphernalia I would find. I wasn’t having any sex of my own, so I was more than happy to snoop about in the sex lives of others.
But I would never actually go through someone else’s stuff. I knew that. There was nothing that would make me compromise my morals. But it was still a lot of fun to think about.
“So, how were the little monsters?” Ben asked. “Did they give you any trouble?”
“No,” I said. “Not at all. They both sacked out pretty easy.”
“Awesome,” Ben said. I noticed he liked to say the word ‘awesome’ a lot. It was kind of funny given the fact that he looked like an accountant, which he was. He was tall, a bit podgy, with glasses and a very mild-mannered vibe. His wife was much spunkier and more interesting. Becky was fun to talk to and a lot of times I found myself wondering why she settled with a man like Ben. They were such opposites, a mismatch, but what they had seemed to work very well.
“Glad to hear it,” Becky said. She pulled fifty dollars out of her purse and handed it to me. “Thank you so much for coming on such short notice. You are a lifesaver.”
I smiled. “No problem. Thanks for thinking of me.”
“Absolutely. Now, are you
ready for your interview tomorrow with Ricky?” Becky asked me with excitement in her eyes.
“Yeah, I think so. I’m actually a bit nervous.”
“What? Don’t be. Ricky is a real sweetheart. You will be fine.”
“Thanks, but I guess I’m nervous because if I don’t get that job then I don’t know what I might do. There just doesn’t seem to be anyone else reasonably close to me right now that is looking for anyone full time.”
“Well, Ricky is desperate. His last nanny abruptly quit, leaving him in a bind. You know how that goes. So, he is really excited that you are coming. I just hope you can keep from staring too long into his eyes. Girl, the man is gorgeous.”
I laughed. “Well, I’ll try.”
I left the Normans’ house and drove home. I kept thinking about what Becky had said. This was the second time that she had brought up how good-looking Ricky really was. Now, I was really nervous. What if he was so handsome that I forgot how to speak, or how to do well in the interview with the right answers? I couldn’t handle that. I needed to relax and just breathe.
When I got home, Tessa was binge watching some old eighties show she found online. She was a true television junkie. She rarely did anything else when she wasn’t working, except hang out with her boyfriend, Marty at his place. I suspected that when they weren’t being intimate, they were probably just watching a lot of television. It was a real sickness with her.
“How was it?” She asked.
I shrugged. “It was a babysitting gig. Nothing special. I did get freaked out at one point.” I told her the whole story about the scratching sounds.
She got a bang out of it and erupted with laughter. Tessa loved to hear about other’s misfortune. That was probably why she loved television so much. It was nothing but people having bad stuff happen to them.
“Tomorrow is the big interview, right? That should be cool. I know you are going to nail it,” she told me.
“Thanks,” I said. “You know, Becky went out of her way to tell me just how good looking this guy is supposed to be.”
Tessa’s face perked up with a bright smile. “Ah, that sounds delicious,” she said. “You are going to make a move, right?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, I’m not going to make a move on my potential boss. That sounds to me like a really bad idea.”
“Hey, he might be the guy to take that pesky virginity from you. That’s something you need to let go of. Hell, you can probably sell that thing for millions.”
I laughed. “You are so warped in the head.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know.”
“Well, if you know that you are warped, then why aren’t you trying to do something about it?”
“I like it. That is really part of my sweet character.”
I giggled and gave her a big hug. “I love you, bitch.”
“Right back at you skank,” she replied. That was part of our little thing we did together. “But seriously, what are you waiting for with this virginity thing?”
“It’s not a thing,” I said. “I want it to be special and perfect the first time.”
“See, right away you are setting yourself up for a bad experience. The first time isn’t romantic or special for hardly anyone. It’s messy, it’s awkward, and it’s painful. That’s it. It isn’t anything to wait around with. Get that first time out of the way so you can move on with your life.”
“We will just have to agree to disagree on this. I’m fine and I will be ok with it. When it happens, it will happen. That’s all I can say about it.”
“Alright, suit yourself. But when it is over, you will be asking yourself why the hell you waited so long for it.”
I shook my head and went to take a shower. Tessa’s thoughts were with me though. I knew that she had a point, and I wished that I could let myself go enough to just break free of this, but there was something that was preventing it. I knew that one day I would meet the perfect guy that I wanted to lose my virginity to. The right man at the right time.
It would all line up eventually.
Chapter Three
Ricky
Julie was amazing.
The moment I saw her when I opened the door, I instantly felt warm, nervous, a bit speechless, and I had a feeling of elation wash over me. All of this happened in about two seconds, so I doubt if Julie really had time to notice how her initial appearance was actually having a profound effect on me. That sort of thing hadn’t happened to me in a long while.
Becky and Ben had not been kidding when they said she was beautiful. Julie was about five feet seven, with long, flowing blonde hair. She had the most perfect, bright, blue eyes that shone like blue jewels into my own line of sight. Her smile was breathtaking revealing those soft, sensual red lips without any lipstick, and perfect, straight, white teeth. Small dimples appeared in her cheeks when she smiled and all of this softened her chin slightly to give it the tiniest dimple.
Adding to this was a curvy, voluptuous body. I tried to keep my eyes on hers, but my peripheral vision absorbed every single, luscious curve of her figure. Wow… she was a beauty if I ever laid eyes on one. And lastly, my eyes noticed the large chest she was sporting underneath her low cut (but not too low) sweater.
“Hi,’ I said. “I’m Ricky. It is so nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she replied. “Becky and Ben have told me a lot about you.”
“Really?” I said. “They’ve told me a bit about you as well. I really appreciate you coming. Let’s go over there and sit down.”
I led her to the living room where she sat down across me on the other couch. A coffee table was standing between us. I instantly had a flash of taking her on the coffee table, right there and then. And in an instant the thought was over. I felt strange to have those feelings, which I hadn’t really had for anyone since Amanda. But it was also a little bit refreshing, like I was reminded that I was still a virile man. It felt damn good.
“So, Becky was telling me you’d worked for a previous family for a long time?” I asked, as I sat down with my pad to jot down some notes. It was really just a formality at this point. Based on Becky’s recommendation and the fact I was so desperate to hire someone, this girl had the job if she was even halfway to being competent.
“Yes, I worked for the Henderson’s for a few years. Then I was with the Flannigan’s before that for almost a year. It’s what I’ve mostly done since I graduated from high school. Before becoming a nanny, I worked for a telemarketing agency for a few years.”
“Wow, what was that like?” I asked.
She laughed. What a great laugh. “Well, I hated it. It was the best job I could find at the time, before discovering how much I loved being a nanny. I’ll just tell you that telemarketers hate calling you more than you hate being called. So, try to cut them some slack next time.”
I smiled. “I will do. Now, what do you like to do for fun? And how can that translate into activities that you might like to do with my daughter, Zoe?”
“Well, I love art. I paint and draw. Does Zoe have any interest in those sorts of things?”
“Oh, yes. She loves painting. I have to keep at her to keep it off the walls and the table, but she enjoys dabbling in finger paints. And recently I purchased a little easel setup for her. She has fun with it. I imagine she is an abstract expressionist.”
“An abstract painter? Wow, that’s interesting.”
“I say that because her paintings never look anything like what she says they are,” I joked.
“Ah, I could show her some things and teach her some easy tricks.”
“Fantastic,” I said. “What else did Becky tell you about us? Our background?”
“She mentioned that your wife passed a few years ago. I’m so sorry to hear that. I imagine Zoe is still coming to terms with it.”
“Yeah,” I said. “She does remarkably well, though. Better than me sometimes. She has these little periods where she might act out a little and then break down crying t
hat she misses her mom.”
“I am a pretty good listener. I think kids that age just need lots of space to process things in their own way. If we try to steer them into dealing with things like adults before they are ready, then we can do more harm than good. And every kid is different. They don’t fit into nice, neat little packages like the school system says they do.”
I loved her response. I could tell that she really cared and that there was a lot of compassion behind her words. “Well said.”
She smiled at me and our eyes locked. I could feel this sweet attraction happening between the two of us, but I wasn’t sure that this was going to work. I’d just met the woman and already I was very attracted to her. If I was around her for any period of time at all, how long until things got romantic between the two of us? That couldn’t happen. I really wasn’t ready to even try anything in the romance department, and it would be utterly unprofessional. If she was as good of a nanny as Becky told me she was, then I sure didn’t want to do anything that might ruin that relationship.
“So, do you have anything that you aren’t willing to do? Cooking? Cleaning certain things? Et cetera? I have a lady who comes by, once a week on Saturday mornings to clean, so you probably won’t even have to interact with her or worry about cleaning much, but then again I do have an eight year old. Sometimes they are messy and they spill things, track mud inside—you know?”
She was chuckling and nodding the entire time. “I absolutely know that. And I’m fine with all of that. I don’t mind cooking either. I can go to the store if you need me to so that there’s always food in the house for Zoe, I can run other special errands if you need me to. I understand how busy you probably are.”
“Great. That’s wonderful. And did Becky go over the salary part with you that’s on offer?”
Her eyes lit up. “She did. I'm fine with that.”
I was glad to hear those words. The salary I was offering wasn’t amazing (at least I didn’t think so) and I really couldn’t afford to pay anything higher.
Burning With Desire Page 2
