Temptation

by Kris Bryant

  “Thank you so much for saving me back there.”

  Brook gave me a curt, dismissive nod and told Noah to buckle up in his booster. Once he was secure, she walked to the driver’s seat and climbed in. I had no idea why I was still in their space, other than I wanted to stay connected with her.

  “I can replenish your supply at the next practice.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Her blue eyes were so piercing I had a hard time breaking eye contact. Most incredibly attractive women made me fidget from nervous energy and fumble around like an idiot. “Have a good night.” She drove off slowly, and I stood there watching until Emma growled something rude at me.

  “What?” I turned to find her bouncing her soccer ball against my bumper. Although it grated on my nerves, I smiled sweetly at her. Her face scrunched up right before she huffed and gave me the biggest eye roll I’d ever seen a small child make.

  “We need to leave. I’m hungry.”

  Just two more days. “Okay. Let’s go home and eat some yummy kale and quinoa.”

  Saying that made me shudder. Tonight’s menu was roasted quinoa with vegetables and avocado. It wasn’t as if the food tasted bad; it just wasn’t kid food. Emma probably never had a fish stick dipped in ketchup or macaroni and cheese made with powdered cheese from a box. I knew those weren’t healthy foods, but they were delicious.

  “I don’t like the orange you brought.” She emphasized that statement by throwing the orange on the floor of the back seat.

  I sighed. Working for the Minks family was a lot more than I had bargained for. Henry had neglected to tell me it was their turn to bring snacks. To be fair, he probably didn’t know either. He had to text Robin to find out what practice field they were on and text me the answer. “Noah’s mom helped out your family by donating the juice boxes and oranges.” I rolled my eyes at my own childish antics. I’d sunk to her level. “When we get home, I’ll cut you up an apple with peanut butter. How’s that?”

  “Okay.”

  It was six fifteen. I had just enough time to fix dinner, feed her, put her in the tub, and tuck her into bed before Henry came home. He appreciated my help even if Emma made it extremely difficult. This was Emma lashing out at a stranger. Her mom must have had it ten times worse.

  “Do you have any homework?” I punched in the temporary code to the front door.

  She pushed past me to get inside first and gave me another award-winning eye roll. “I’m six. School just started, and we don’t have homework yet.”

  “Get cleaned up and I’ll cut up a snack. You can keep me entertained while I cook.” I busied myself with the ingredients and put the quinoa on the stovetop to boil. She slipped into the chair and watched me work. “Do you help your parents cook?”

  “No. They don’t want me near the stove. Or the oven. Sometimes I can use the microwave, but only when they’re around.”

  “That’s a good plan. It hurts when you get burned. You have to be careful when you cook.”

  Emma crunched on her apple slices and a dab of natural peanut butter that I had to stir forever just to get it smooth enough to spoon out.

  “I think I want to be a chef when I grow up.” Her voice was firm and sure.

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea. You eat a lot of grown-up type food, so I think you have the taste for it.” I decided not to tell her I wanted to be a nun when I was her age. I diced tomatoes and an avocado and slid her over a small plate.

  “Yum. I like these.”

  “See? I didn’t like avocados until I was an adult, so you’re one step ahead of me.”

  “What did you eat?” If nothing else, Emma was inquisitive if something piqued her interest.

  “When I was a kid? Um, hot dogs, macaroni and cheese, chicken nuggets, corn, grilled cheese, stuff like that.” I fluffed the quinoa with a fork and seasoned it. I liked cooking. I just rarely had the time anymore.

  “Sometimes the school lunches are fun.”

  “Fun how?”

  I fixed her a plate. She blew across the quinoa to cool it. I’d never seen a kid eat healthy food with such gusto.

  “Sometimes we have pizza with red sauce and cheese.”

  “How else do you eat pizza if it’s not cheesy and covered in red pizza sauce?”

  She looked puzzled. “Pizza has white sauce and vegetables.”

  “Oh, sweet child. Pizza has cheese, pepperoni, sausage, and all kinds of other delicious things.” I helped myself to some of the quinoa. While it wasn’t bad, it wasn’t life-changing either. The lime juice I drizzled on top really brought out its earthy flavor. But I still wasn’t convinced it was good.

  “Can we make a pizza tomorrow? Or get one?”

  I backpedaled. I didn’t want to be responsible for destroying this child’s palate and healthy habits.

  “Your mom has a menu plan that I have to follow. But I tell you what. You don’t have soccer practice until Friday. Why don’t we make some oatmeal cookies tomorrow?” Surely, there was a recipe that was somewhat healthy and low sugar.

  Her eyes lit up, and a smile spread over her face. In that moment, Emma was genuinely adorable.

  “Yes. Let’s do it. Can I help make them?”

  I scoffed at her. “It’s going to be all you. You have to measure, mix, and bake them. Are you up for the challenge?”

  And just like that, we became friends. She didn’t fight me when it was bedtime. I was reading her a bedtime story when Henry got home.

  “I’m sorry I’m late tonight. I’ll be sure to tell the service to add an extra hour,” Henry said. He looked exhausted.

  I thanked him, got my first hug from Emma, and headed out to my car. Babysitting wasn’t too bad. You just had to find a way to communicate with the kid. I was kind of sad that this easy money wasn’t going to continue after Friday, but I had a feeling I would see this family again.

  Chapter Two

  “I remember Brook Wellington. Yes, of course.” I was elbow deep in laundry and playing Uno with Nana, my new roommate. If she hadn’t taken me in, I don’t know where I would have gone. She’d missed bingo last week because she gave me her almost-dead 1994 Acura, and her friend who normally took her had cataract surgery earlier in the week so she couldn’t drive them. Nana was being way too nice to me.

  “She’s looking for a live-in nanny for her son Noah. Is that something you’re interested in?”

  My heart thumped twice as fast as normal. Who could forget Brook Wellington? I sat down to process the request. “Live-in? I can’t be a full-time nanny because I go to school.”

  “I told her you had late morning and early afternoon classes, and she said Noah’s in school then anyway. She’s looking for five days a week, from seven in the morning until seven at night, with time off during the late morning and early afternoon for your classes.”

  That sounded very restrictive. Rebecca must have sensed my hesitation. “But the pay is great and comes with health insurance. You’ll have the weekends off, and a small studio apartment above the garage is included.”

  “I don’t think I understand. I’ve seen Brook with her son. She’s very attentive. Why does she need a nanny?”

  “Ms. Wellington has a busy career, and her hours are all over the place. She needs stability for Noah. And, Cassie? She asked for you specifically.”

  I sat down. I tried not to read too much into why Brook asked for me. We spent a total of two minutes together. I wanted a job, yes, but being a full-time nanny was a huge commitment. And that also meant that I would see Brook every day. Not that I was scared of her, but I didn’t want to crush on her either. I hadn’t had a girlfriend in at least six months, and I was susceptible to doing stupid things like falling for beautiful, powerful women.

  “When does she want this to happen?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  “But why me? I mean you obviously have a ton of qualified nannies. I’ve babysat, but I’ve never been a nanny before.” I’d only been employed by the agency for a
few weeks. This seemed like a big leap.

  “Let me send you over the job specifications. You can review them and call me back. How does that sound?” Rebecca’s voice insinuated that she wasn’t going to let me say no right away. Within two minutes, I had the guidelines for the job. Make sure Noah gets to and from the school, handle any issues during the day with him at school, fix snacks for him, simple stuff. Brook had a staff that cleaned and a chef that cooked the evening meals. The killer was the one-year contract. Could I commit to one year?

  Two months ago, when my parents threatened to cut me off after I dropped out of med school and enrolled in a master’s program, I didn’t take the veiled threat to heart. It wasn’t until the school started pressuring me for tuition payments and my monthly stipend didn’t show up in my bank account that I knew they were serious.

  When I took a year off after high school to travel across Europe with two of my friends, my parents weren’t happy. But I promised to go to med school like they both did, so they backed off. It was only after completing a year of medical school that I admitted I had no desire to become a doctor. To say they didn’t approve was an understatement.

  Brook had sweetened the deal by having a signing bonus. An opportunity to move out of Nana’s house would have been enough. It had been only two weeks, and I was already going crazy. But the bonus pushed me over the edge. I called Rebecca.

  “Okay, I’m in.”

  “Perfect. Let me call Brook and tell her the news. When can you start?”

  I wanted to have a few days to get organized, but really it was a stall tactic. School was my only commitment. “I guess I can meet her tomorrow and review expectations, but I should be able to start after we meet.” I gripped the phone tighter, anxious about such a big commitment, nervous about Brook Wellington. What if she was a tyrant? What if she’d been through several nannies and simply recognized fresh meat on the market? I wrote down the address and promised to be there at seven in the morning.

  “What was that about?” Nana asked when I returned to the kitchen.

  “So, I’m a nanny now.”

  “For Emma? I thought she was a devil child.”

  “No. For one of the other soccer moms. Brook Wellington. I think she’s one of the Wellingtons from the news and all the banks and stuff.”

  Nana clasped her hands together. “Oh, honey, that’s wonderful news. You’re so good with kids. And the Wellingtons are a good family to have in your back pocket.”

  “I barely spoke to her, so it scares me that she requested me personally. The good news is that she has an apartment I can live in. Not like in their house, but a studio above the garage is part of the deal. I’ll check it out first before I leave you.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine. And if it’s shit, you come back here.”

  There was the Nana I knew and loved. Spunky with just enough kick to make me smile. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  * * *

  Not only was the studio fine, it was way nicer than the apartment I had once shared with my roommate Lacy. Brook Wellington’s idea of studio was more like my idea of a condominium. Brook’s garage housed five cars, so the space above it was a solid fifteen hundred square feet. It had an open floor plan with a full bath, full kitchen, and several closets for my clothes. I was in the moment I saw the storage space.

  “I know it’s not much, but it’s private, and it’s close to the university.”

  It was hard not to gape at Brook. This fully furnished apartment was a dream come true. I ran my hand over the taupe couch with bright accent pillows. “This is perfect for what I need.” My voice was steady, even though I wanted to break into a song and dance at my good fortune.

  She gave me a curt nod, her signature move. “And you can change the code once you move in. The instructions are inside on the kitchen counter.”

  I gave her a full look-over on our way back to the main house. Her black suit was tailored to perfection, accentuating every beautiful curve of her body, and the raspberry-colored blouse made the lightness of her blue eyes pop even more. Her hair was pulled back in a twisted topknot, stylish yet professional. Brook Wellington was the kind of woman who pinged my radar and checked all the boxes I looked for in the perfect woman. I wondered about her age and figured she had to be either late twenties or early thirties, given that Noah, her Mini-Me, was six. If I had to guess, I would say twenty-eight. I felt like a complete failure, being already twenty-four and just starting my graduate degree. She had a few tiny crinkles around her eyes that I noticed when she smiled at Noah, but for the most part, I had no idea how old she was. I made a mental note to google her later.

  “Do you have any questions for me?” She sat at her desk and reached for her cup of coffee.

  I slid into a leather guest chair and waited. The silence in the room made her look up at me. I wanted her full, undivided attention during this interview. I didn’t want any mistakes or misunderstandings of what was expected of me and what I expected in return. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. I couldn’t tell if my silence amused her or she respected me for it.

  “Yes, I have a lot of questions. I’ve never nannied before, so I need to know what’s expected of me.” I held up my hand when she pulled out the same list the agency had handed me. “I know what’s on the list, but I want to hear it from you. That way there are no misunderstandings.”

  “My number-one priority is Noah and his well-being. A lot of my meetings run late, and rather than send everybody to go pick him up and pray that they get him in time, I’d rather have one person I trust to get him to and from places safely and timely.” She sat back in her chair.

  I leaned forward. “Does he attend after-school care, or would he catch the bus home, or do I need to collect him? I don’t mind, but I will need a copy of his schedule so I know when to pick him up, and I’ll need a booster seat.”

  “You won’t need a booster seat. You’ll have access to the Range Rover when you’re taking him places, including to and from school.”

  “I’m sorry. What?” I was clueless.

  “The Range Rover. It’s yours to drive when you’re taking Noah places. The agency said your driving record was clean. I trust that’s accurate?”

  Something told me she already knew the answer. “Just a parking ticket at school last semester.” I tried not to get excited about reliable transportation. That was my biggest concern. “Does Noah have food allergies or restrictions?” I thought about Emma’s dinners and hoped Brook allowed him some sugary liberties.

  “No allergies. I try to keep his diet healthy, but I’m not a stickler about it. We can come up with a list of foods and snacks that I approve of.”

  I smiled for the first time. She wasn’t going to be cranky if I slipped him a piece of chocolate or a cookie.

  “What does Noah like to do besides soccer? Does he have any extracurricular activities?”

  “Good question. He has violin lessons on Mondays and Thursdays from four to four forty-five. Soccer is on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from five to six, but we have only a few more weeks left. And I’ll make sure you have snacks on the day we’re responsible for them.” Heat blossomed on my cheeks when she gave a slight hint of a smile. “I’ll leave you his soccer schedule, too.”

  “What’s after soccer? Anything?”

  “Thankfully, no. Just violin.”

  “Is he allowed to play games?”

  She looked puzzled. “Like video games?”

  I nodded but wasn’t going to press. Video games were a slippery topic with parents.

  “He has an iPad with a few games, but he doesn’t have a gaming system yet. I’m going to hold off on that as long as I can.”

  “I understand.” I had all the systems but hadn’t played them in a few weeks. Getting a job was more important than slaying beasts in fantasy worlds. I watched as Brook jotted several notes in her notebook during the interview. She was a lefty but didn’t curve her hand like most left handers. Her na
ils were perfectly filed and painted red. “Why did you ask for me, Ms. Wellington?”

  Brook’s blue eyes met mine.

  “Call me Brook. I picked you because I saw how patient you were with Emma and how you fit right in with the other moms. That means you aren’t afraid to ask for help. Emma is a handful, and you didn’t let her walk all over you. At Noah’s fourth and fifth birthday parties, she was a pure terror, so I know you’re good with kids. I spoke with Robin and Henry Minks, and they only had good things to say about you.”

  “I will say Emma tried my patience. But by the end of it, she really was an angel. We just needed to find common ground and start from there.”

  Brook cocked her head at me almost in disbelief. I shrugged. “Well, Cassie, what do you think? Are you up for the job?”

  “I’m not going to be perfect, but yes. I’m up for it.” I took a deep breath. This was a big commitment. The paperwork was straightforward. If I wanted to quit, Brook required a two-week notice. If she fired me, I would get paid up until that moment. “When do you want me to start?”

  “As soon as you can. The studio is ready whenever you want to move in, or you can commute until the weekend. You can park your car on the concrete pad beside the garage.”

  I snorted. “I think I’ll park on the street.”

  She stopped writing and looked up at me. Those eyes. I’d never seen eyes so blue before. I leaned back because her intense stare was both mesmerizing and unnerving.

  “What’s wrong with your car?”

  “It leaks oil, and I don’t want to stain your driveway.”

  The single nod again. “We’ll figure something out.” She looked at her watch and stood. “I’d like for you to go with me to Noah’s school so I can get you added to the list and you can meet his teacher.”