by Wren Mingua
Did she?! Zoe could think of a million reasons why she shouldn't accept the job. The number one reason stepped out in the hallway and hovered behind her husband, sneering. Gemma's sneer was practically permanent.
“I...” Zoe hesitated, but only for a moment. “I would be honored.”
“Excellent.” Lewis looked back at Gemma and smiled over his shoulder, as if to gloat. “When can you start?”
Chapter Four
Excerpt from Zoe's blog--
For some reason, time moves slowly in the UK. I've only been here a week, but it feels like I've been here a year. Either I've wandered into a time warp, or my loneliness is making the days feel long.
She arrived with her luggage two days later. Lewis, who was looking a bit more disheveled than before, greeted her at the door. He was wearing an untucked suit coat, and his hair was in desperate need of a comb.
“Let me take that for you,” he said, snatching her luggage from her hands.
“Oh, you don't have--”
“I insist.” He wheeled her luggage into the foyer and motioned for her to follow. “Come. I'll show you to your room. Oh... and you'll be happy to know, Gemma will be absent until the evening.”
Zoe almost opened her mouth to say oh, it wouldn't make me happy, but she actually didn't mind Gemma's absence. If Gemma really thought she was a hussy, it would be best to keep her distance.
“Here is your room,” Lewis announced, pulling open the door to a spacious bedroom. There was a wide desk, a four-poster bed, a 40” television, and a wardrobe that looked like it was straight out of Narnia. “Is it to your liking?”
“Of course!”
“Great.” Lewis deposited her luggage in the middle of the room. “If there is anything else you need, don't hesitate to ask. As this will be your home, I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”
“I can't think of anything else I'd need. It's really nice, thanks.”
Lewis picked a piece of lint from Zoe's cardigan and flicked it on the floor. She thought it was a bit invasive, but she didn't say anything.
“Alright! Do you have any questions?”
“None that I can think of at the moment.”
“Good, good.” Lewis' gaze was fixed on her chest. Either he was transfixed by her breasts, or he was looking for more lint to pluck. “Oh! Before I forget, why don't I go over a list of duties you'll be expected to perform.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“You'll be expected to plan Chris' daily activities. And you'll be in charge of his discipline from now on,” Lewis leaned closer and lowered his voice, as if fearful of being overheard. “Lately, he has a tendency to be a bit lippy. I'm not asking you to beat the boy, but if you can somehow put him in his place, I would be in your debt.”
“What do you recommend?”
“You're the nanny, yes? Discipline him as you see fit. You look like a sensible girl, and I trust you will make good decisions. Also... we get takeaway quite often. However, when we don't get takeaway, you'll be expected to prepare his meals. Will that be a problem?”
“Uh... no.”
“You have some experience with cooking, I hope?”
“Some.”
“Good. Great. I'll have to teach you how to use the hob, as it can be a bit finnicky.”
Zoe didn't think it was a good time to tell him she had no idea what a “hob” was.
“In addition,” Lewis went on. “You'll be expected to pick him up from school. I go to work early in the morning, so I should be able to drop him off every now and then. The school term has yet to begin... I'll keep you updated on that.” Lewis held open her bedroom door and motioned for her to step into the hallway, which she did. “One more thing...”
“What's that?”
“I know Gemma said Chris is a genius... and it might be true, however...” Lewis' voice trailed off, and he had a far-off look in his eye. “Some of my favorite memories as a child was story time with my Nan. So... if you could take the time to read a book to him every now and then, I think that would be lovely.”
“Okay.” She wondered if she should give him more than a one word response, but for some reason, he made her a bit uneasy. She hoped the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach would ebb as time went on.
“As far as your tasks go, I think that's everything...” Lewis took her by the arm and led her down the hallway. “Now, I need to make introductions. You've already met Gemma, of course... and I'm sure that encounter left something to be desired. Now I'm going to introduce you to my brother, Benjamin.”
“Does your brother live here?”
Lewis stopped in front of a random door and raised a fist. His hand hovered a moment, as if he was reluctant, then he finally knocked. “For the time being, yes. Benjamin recently graduated from Oxford. He'll be staying here until he finds a place of his own. If he disrupts your peace and quiet, I apologize in advance.”
When the door opened, Zoe could feel her throat constricting. The beautiful blonde boy, the one who caught her eavesdropping, was standing on the other side of the door. As soon as he laid eyes on her, he grinned.
“Was someone talking about me?” asked the blonde. “I thought I heard someone say my name.”
“Benjamin, this is Zoe... the new live-in nanny.” Lewis turned his attention back to Zoe. “And this is my brother, Benjamin. Obviously.”
“Believe it or not, we've already met.” Benjamin winked at her. “Zoe and I had a titillating encounter a few days ago.”
“Is that so?” Lewis asked. “How is that even possible?”
“I ran into her in the hall when she came for her interview,” Benjamin said. “I hope she hasn't forgotten me.”
“Of course not. I remember you.” His wasn't a face that could be easily forgotten, and he knew it.
Benjamin leaned against the door frame, smirking. “Sooo... an American nanny, hmm? Is this some sort of new age, role reversal Mary Poppins?”
“It looks like you've got me figured out,” Zoe joked. “You must have seen me whizzing by your window on my flying umbrella.”
“Oh, was that you?” Benjamin quipped. “I thought it was the gardener.”
“Nope. That was definitely me.”
“You'll have to give me a ride on your brolly sometime, Mary Poppins.” Benjamin raked his gaze up the entire length of her body.
“Nuh uh. Only I get to ride.”
“Ahem.” Lewis cleared his throat so loudly, they had no choice but to turn their attention back to him. “It's nice that you're getting along so well, but Zoe and I should get going. She hasn't met Chris yet, so--”
“Aww. Leaving so soon? That's a shame.” Was it her imagination, or did Benjamin lick his lips? “The little nanny is the most interesting thing to come around in a long, long time.”
“Trust me, I'm not that interesting,” Zoe corrected him. “Anyway, I'm wondering... is it always Benjamin; do you ever just go by Ben?"
“On occasion. Do you ever just go by... Z?”
Zoe laughed. “Actually, I had a friend who used to call me that. And sometimes people will call me Zo without the e... which is kind of annoying.”
“Then I'll have to call you Zo,” Benjamin said, “Girls like it when a man is vexing. It gets under their skin... turns them on. It's a proven fact.”
“AHEM!” Lewis cleared his throat again, a bit irritated at how easily they conversed. Her repartee with Benjamin was a far cry from the one word answers she fired off at Lewis. “We should get going, Ben.”
“Your brother calls you Ben.”
“True. And sometimes I like to call him loo.”
“Come on!” Lewis insisted. He took her by the arm and proceeded to drag her away from Benjamin, who kept her in his sights as long as he could. He led her up the stairs to the second story of the mansion. “See what I mean? Ben can be quite a nuisance. He never takes anything seriously... including his life.”
“Didn't you say he graduated from Oxford?”
/> “True. But he hasn't even tried to find a job, and he's been here for three months now. Anyway...” Lewis stopped talking because they had arrived at their destination. There was a Harry Potter poster on the door. Beneath it, a big red sign warned: KEEP OUT. “Don't let the signs fool you. He's really not a terrible lad.” A few seconds later, Lewis amended, “Oh, who am I kidding? He's a true terror. I didn't think children were supposed to succumb to angst until they were in their teens. He's only eight... eight... and he gives me such a hard time. Hopefully he'll be gentle with you.”
Lewis was filling her head with so much information, it was impossible to soak it all in.
The door swung open, and a pudgy, sandy-haired boy stuck his head out. “What?” he asked curtly.
“Hello, Chris. This is the new nanny, Miss Zoe Manet. Manet... like the painter.” He looked over at her and smiled.
Of course, his son had no idea what he was talking about. “So?”
“Treat her with respect. Understand?”
Chris shrugged. He tugged on his shirt—a graphic tee with a skull on it.
“Listen to her. Do whatever she tells you to do, as if she was your own parent.”
Chris stuck his hands into his pockets and shrugged again. “Whatever.”
“Alright then...” Lewis looked over at Zoe and raised an eyebrow. “Any more questions?”
“No. I think I'm alright.”
“Great! Good! Then... I'll give you two a moment to get acquainted.”
Before Zoe had a chance to protest, Lewis was already making a dash for the stairs. As she stared at the little boy in front of her, she forced a smile. She could barely see his eyes, as he was peering at her through overlong bangs. The boy needed a haircut. Zoe wondered if that would be one of the nanny's jobs as well. She certainly hoped not. The last time she attempted to cut Kyle's hair, it was a bowl cut disaster.
“So, Chris... it's really great to meet you,” she said. “I like your shirt.”
“No you don't.”
Zoe was taken aback. “I... don't?”
“No. Don't say things when you don't mean them. I hate people who do that.” He pulled something out of his pocket and started fidgeting with it. It took Zoe a few seconds to figure out what he was holding. It was a green toy soldier, the small plastic kind. “And let's get something else straight.”
She was almost afraid to ask. “And... what's that?”
“I don't like you. I don't have to like you. And that's that.”
Then he slammed the door in her face.
Zoe stood on the other side of the door, feeling like she had just been punched in the gut. Between the boy and his mother, she had every reason to feel unwelcome. She had every reason to feel out of place—and the fact that she was an American was just the tip of the iceberg.
She wanted to go home.
Chapter Five
Excerpt from Zoe's blog--
How do you know you've gotten old? When you look over at a 22-year-old and you think he's a kid.
“Gemma's returned... heaven forbid...and she's insisting we go out for dinner tonight.”
Lewis was standing uncomfortably close as he delivered this information, and Zoe wondered if it was a European thing. Either that, or he enjoyed breathing down her neck.
“That means you'll be alone with Ben and Chris. Is that going to be a problem?”
And it was no exaggeration—she could literally feel his breath on her neck. “No. I can't see why it would be.”
“But I know it's your first night here... I wouldn't want to put you in a situation that has you feeling uncomfortable.”
The fact that his face was only two inches away from hers had her feeling pretty uncomfortable, but she had to grin and bear it. She didn't want to do or say anything to upset her new employer. “I'm not uncomfortable.”
“You can call me on my mobile any time.” He held out a slip of paper. “Here's my number. Don't hesitate to call me... for anything.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, and you'll be responsible for making Chris' dinner tonight. You're welcome to use anything you find in the kitchen. I know that's a lot to throw on you all at once, so if you don't think you can handle it--”
“I think I can handle it,” she said with a smile.
“Good. Right. Excellent!” He clapped his hands together in feigned excitement. “Is there anything else you need to know?”
“When will you be back?”
“It will be several hours, unfortunately. She's forcing me to go to some infernal musical... and if you haven't noticed, those things can drag on forever.” Lewis groaned so loudly, Zoe's eyes widened. “But I would assume we'll be back before midnight.”
Zoe nodded. “Okay.”
“OH! And one more thing! You'll be cooking for Ben too. I don't even think the poor boy can cook toast, so if it isn't any trouble...”
“It's fine. I can cook for him too.”
“Great. Lovely!” Lewis exclaimed. His excessive exclamations were starting to grate on her nerves. “Well... I guess we'll be leaving then.” He leaned closer to her, even closer than before. “You look lovely, by the way.”
Warmth flooded her cheeks. Did he really just say that to her? It wasn't just borderline inappropriate, it crossed the threshold! “Have a good time, Mr. Eastham.”
“Oh please. Call me Lewis!” he insisted. “Well... goodnight, then.”
“Goodnight.”
When Lewis finally stepped away from her, Zoe breathed a sigh of relief. She liked her personal space, and Lewis pretty much spared her none. She closed and locked her door, then crashed on her bed. She grabbed a bag of Walker's “crisps” and started munching on them. She really wasn't the best cook in the world, and now she had to cook meals? When she accepted the job as a nanny, she hadn't considered that cooking could be one of her responsibilities.
“I can't stay here...” she whispered to herself. “No way.”
Gemma hated her, Lewis was strangely predatory, and Chris was going to be a pain in her neck. It just wasn't going to be worth it.
Zoe thought she could hear commotion outside, so she ran to the window and peered out. Gemma was chasing after Lewis, screaming at him. She smacked him in the head with her purse, and Lewis dove into his car, which happened to be a polished black Porsche. To say there was tension between the couple would have been an understatement. Either they were heading for divorce, or they would spend the rest of their lives making each other miserable.
Zoe finished her crisps, then headed to the kitchen to see what she could rustle up. Fortunately, there were some frozen pizzas in the freezer. She didn't know what Chris liked to eat, but every kid liked pizza—right? The brand was “Chicago Town,” which Zoe thought was hilarious. Deep dish Chicago pizzas in the UK. Now she had seen it all!
She followed the instructions and put two pizzas in the oven. It took her a few seconds to figure out how to set the timer, but once she figured it out, she was in commission. She leaned against the kitchen counter and let the pizzas do their thing.
“Hello there.”
When she heard Ben's voice, she nearly jumped out of her skin. She spun around to face him, her cheeks flushed. “Uh... hi.”
He leaned against the counter right next to her. Unnecessarily close proximity was something he had in common with his brother. “How are you, little nanny?”
Little nanny. That was the second time he had called her that, wasn't it? She needed to put him in his place! “Why do you keep calling me that? I'm not little. Geez, I'm older than you!”
“Are you?” Benjamin grinned at her. “I hadn't noticed.”
“Puh-lease. It's pretty obvious, isn't it?” She picked up one of the Chicago Town boxes and gave him a gentle rap on the head.
“How old are you?”
“Don't you know it's rude to ask a lady her age?” She raised the pizza box again, and he flinched, so she thought she'd spare him. “If you really must know, I'm thirty-two years old
.”
“You don't look that old.”
She rolled her eyes at the back-handedness of that statement. “Wow. Thanks.”
“No, really. I thought you were about twenty-five. That's a good thing, isn't it?”
“Well, the fact of the matter is, I'm OLD. We're talking old as Methuselah old. So you shouldn't go around calling me little nanny.”
“Goodness, you're not that old,” he corrected her. “And besides... you are little. You're short. Skinny...”
She stood on her tiptoes. “I'm not that short!”
“Oh?”
“No!” At 5'4”, she wasn't exactly an Amazon, but she had never considered herself short. “You're just unnaturally tall.”
“Good. Women like tall men, don't they?” Benjamin went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. He popped the cap and started guzzling it down. When he finally came up for air, he asked, “Do you like tall men?”
“Why does it matter?”
“I'm just curious.”
“Okay. Yeah. I guess I like tall guys,” Zoe said. “I also like older guys.”
“You always like older men, or just sometimes?”
“Always,” she insisted.
“Well, there's a first time for everything.” He took another swig from his beer bottle. “We're talking about men in the thirty-plus category, right? Aren't most of the good ones taken by now? Your options must be dwindling.”
Zoe narrowed her eyes at him, as if she was trying to drill a hole in his head with her glare. “I think good men, in general, are a dying breed.”
“Ouch!”
She opened the oven to check the pizzas. Unfortunately, they weren't even close to being done, which meant she had to stand around in the kitchen with Benjamin awhile longer. Why wouldn't he just busy himself with something else? Did he enjoy harassing the nanny?
“So how old are you, Oxford boy?” she asked.
“Twenty two.”
Zoe pouted at him. “Awww. Just a baby! How cute.”
“Would you like to cradle me in your arms?” Ben laid his head on her shoulder and batted his eyelashes—his long, blonde eyelashes. “If you wanted to rock me to sleep, I wouldn't protest.”
