by Susan Meier
Now this woman—Marnie Olsen—was showing him she could do the job too. Despite being so young.
He looked across the desk at her. Average height. Average weight. In an average floral print dress, blazer and black shoes. Her red-brown hair had been pinned into a knot of some sort at her nape. But she couldn’t hide or tone down her lush lips, or the vivid green eyes that watched him carefully.
As they should. If she became Rex’s nanny, she’d be knee-deep in Hintonville. The crazy world that had taken over his life. Because of Mark, he’d discovered his son, had two half sisters and was about to get a new stepmom when his dad finally married the love of his life.
But also because of his dad, his adoptive parents felt out of place. Though Danny was trying to smooth things over, he was angry with them for never telling him he was adopted, not warning him that he was the child of a crazy billionaire. Or that someday his life could implode.
In case Mary Poppins didn’t take the assignment, he had to interview Marnie Olsen as if she would be entering that messed-up chaotic world.
“The agency sent you to me because they believe you are one of three people qualified to do this job.”
“Yes. They told me.” She smiled. “Typically, though, I just get assignments. I don’t go on interviews.”
“This is a long-term thing. My son’s mother is about to become a vice president for a bank in Europe. It’s a huge opportunity for her and we decided that I was the better candidate to have custody of Rex.”
“Mrs. Harper said the assignment could turn permanent.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No. I’ve just never worked with the same child for a year, let alone long term.” Her lips lifted into a beautiful smile. “I love children. I’m fully capable of stepping back when an assignment is over...but it would be wonderful to help raise a little boy, watch him grow and learn.”
Danny’s heart took a funny leap. She was gorgeous when she smiled and her green eyes lit up. He knew instinctively that Rex would love her and, truth be told, if Danny had to have another person living in his home it would be nice to have someone so pleasant.
Mary Poppins slipped a bit on the desirability scale.
He cleared his throat. “Tell me a little bit about yourself.”
Something flickered across her face. “Myself?”
Confused by her hesitancy, Danny sat forward. “Your past assignments.”
Her smile returned. “I put myself through university as a part-time nanny. It was good money and I could refuse assignments when I needed to study for midterms or finals or do a paper.” She shrugged. “I’ve been with all kinds of kids. I’ve nannied babies and toddlers and children I took to school.” She paused for a second. “Never had a teenager though.”
“But you have handled toddlers?”
“The terrible twos are nothing to me.”
“Terrible twos are scaring me silly,” Danny said, wincing. “So far Rex has been a perfect angel. But I know trouble is coming.”
“Trouble is in the eye of the beholder. All kids can be naughty. All kids experiment. The real bottom line is how you react. For instance, if your little boy unravels all the toilet paper, and you explain to him that you know how much fun it is to spin the whole roll to the floor, but that’s wasteful, then he learns something. But if you find him in the bathroom surrounded by white tissue, and you go ballistic, you only confuse him.”
Considering how Mark had upset everyone’s life, he really liked the idea of his son being raised in a quiet, gentle environment. “I get that. My mom was a learn-your-lesson disciplinarian. My dad was a yeller. I learned so much more from my mom.”
“Precisely.”
“So, what’s your favorite part about being a nanny?”
“The kids. I like to get down on the floor and play. I love when they’re talkative because they have such an interesting perspective on life. Everything’s new to them.”
“Rex would love that.”
“It’s fun for me too. I have been known to create some really great finger paintings.”
He laughed.
“And my mom still puts them on the fridge when I bring them home.”
“You sound like someone who should be a teacher.”
Her face glowed but she sniffed. “No. I love working one-on-one with the kids I’m nannying. I’ve been studying the latest research on things like the effect of art in a child’s life. Music, painting, sculpture, dance...” She nodded at Oswald. “Even pets. The close relationship of a caregiver gives me the chance to expose a child to all those things and watch him or her grow.”
That was exactly what he wanted for Rex. With all the money in the world at their disposal, his son could be, have or do anything he wanted. Having someone who would expose him to art, teach him to look around and enjoy, would be amazing.
He fought the urge to change his mind about hiring Mary Poppins, a nice, middle-aged woman who’d raised five kids. Marnie was young and happy. He wasn’t saying Mary Poppins had a face like a prune... But there was a certain resemblance. His entire life his son would have anything he wanted. Rex needed someone to teach him to appreciate it.
Danny leaned back, angling his elbow on the arm of his chair and resting his jaw on his closed fist. “I’m doing second interviews...with Rex at my penthouse tonight.” He hadn’t planned on asking Marnie to come to his penthouse, but something in his gut told him she was the one. It had to be wrong. Mary Poppins had the best résumé. Still...
He didn’t remember his instincts ever being this strong.
“I was planning on having all the candidates come to my house tonight.” He shook his head, hoping the instinct would go away. It didn’t. If anything, it got stronger. Plus, he was working with a service. Not one-on-one with the nannies. If Marnie didn’t pan out, he could call her boss and exchange her for Mary Poppins.
“But I don’t think there’s a need for that. I’d like to hire you.”
Her mouth fell open. She gaped at him for a few seconds before she said, “Oh my gosh! That’s wonderful!” She bounced up from her seat. “You won’t be sorry!”
He hoped he wouldn’t be. He waited for a ping of anxiety or a sense that he’d made a mistake, but nothing came. He wrote down the address, then stood and handed it across the desk. “I’ll see you tonight at eight.”
Her face absolutely glowed. “See you at eight.”
He watched her leave, his gut positive he’d done the right thing. While his brain hoped to hell he wasn’t turning into an impulsive goofball like his biological dad.
CHAPTER TWO
AS MARNIE SAT in the subway train, everything about that day plowed through her brain. Something good had happened. She’d gotten a job. A fabulous job with income enough that she could save for her real goal: to open her own nanny agency.
But it was with the son of Mark Hinton, crazy billionaire. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal when Shirley Harper had given her the job specifics or even in Danny Manelli’s office during the interview. But walking through the elegant lobby of his building, familiar fear trickled through her. Danny Manelli might not be crazy, but his biological dad was—
Her past bubbled up unbidden. Secrets. Lies. Bullying. Lots of it done on social media—
Under Marnie Gouse. Not Olsen. It would take some searching to connect the dots.
Plus, most people used a nanny service because they knew the person coming into their home had been vetted. Danny Manelli hadn’t said anything about checking her references or looking into her past. He probably trusted the service.
Of course, he trusted the service. That’s what rich people did.
When she arrived at the little apartment she shared with her mom, she walked into her bedroom. The laptop on her desk lured her over. She turned it on and immediately looked up Mark Hinton—
And groaned.
There had to be at least eighty articles written about the estate looking for three missing heirs in the time Mark was supposed to have been dead. One particularly troubling article spoke of Danny’s half-sister Leni Long. Her phone had been cloned, outing her, when she’d been keeping a low profile.
Danny was right. His situation was crazy... But did that really have anything to do with her? What would the press care about a woman whose job was to change diapers, fix breakfast and lunch?
Maybe nothing.
She knew she was rationalizing because she wanted this job. Her entire being rebelled at the idea of giving it up because of one stupid incident when she was young and too trusting—
She licked her dry lips. She hadn’t searched her name in years. Even if it turned up empty, all a search did was dredge up memories that filled her with shame.
But today, she ran her hand along the smooth edge of the laptop. Her mother had always said, if you hear a noise when you’re alone in the apartment, check it out and when you find it’s nothing, you’ll feel better.
This wasn’t a noise. It was a fear about her secret. All along she’d blamed her queasiness on walking into the Shutto Building. What if the instinct was actually a nudge from the universe that Roger Martin had put those pictures online?
Horror tightened her chest, filled her with dread. Her fingers hit the keyboard, as she searched her old name.
Nothing.
She wanted to feel relief, but pictures didn’t have to be associated to a name. Somewhere on the dark web the photos he’d taken when she’d fallen asleep after losing her virginity could be up online.
Or not.
She’d spent the last years believing they’d been destroyed. After he’d tried to sell the pictures at school, she’d raced home, filled with shame, and her mom had called the police. In what seemed like minutes, a squad car had been at the school entrance and two uniformed officers had been in front of the principal’s desk.
Roger hadn’t actually posted the pictures and had carefully disguised the way he offered them for sale on his social media pages. Ten years ago, deleting the pictures from his phone, in front of the police, had satisfied the authorities.
But the shame of it had followed her around. She was bullied at school because her mom had called the police. Because she’d embarrassed Roger. Demonized him.
In her mind, he was a demon. But no one seemed to care about her.
She couldn’t think back to that time without feeling trapped, afraid, mortified.
But ten years had gone by. A search had netted nothing. She needed to be brave. Take this job. Enjoy Danny Manelli’s little boy. Save for her future.
She turned off her laptop and headed to the closet to get a duffel bag to pack. Changing her name and changing schools had given back her life. But no one could guarantee that Roger Martin didn’t have those pictures on a thumb drive.
Or that they wouldn’t surface one day.
Still, the older she got, the less she looked like the naive girl in the pictures, and her name was different. Plus, nobody really cared about a nanny. Any household employee was like the woodwork. Present, serving a purpose, but not really interesting.
She took a breath. Maybe the thing to do would be take the job and observe. See if Danny Manelli’s life was crazy enough that a reporter might get curious about his nanny.
Even thinking that made her shake her head.
Nobody cared about maids, doormen and nannies!
She forced herself to forget that Roger Martin had been a jackass. A privileged jock. Who’d smirked at her when the police let him leave with a warning and a male bonding slap on the shoulder.
It was that smirk that haunted her—a chilling reminder that he was in charge.
* * *
Danny arrived home a little after seven. He walked over to the sofa in his open-plan living space and picked up his son. “How are you doing?”
The yellow-haired two-year-old dressed in bib overalls and a T-shirt said, “Good.”
“He had a great time.” Danny’s half-sister Charlotte rose from the teal sofa. A tall, slim blonde with big blue eyes, she looked comfortable and almost motherly in jeans and a tank top—odd for a woman who’d been more accustomed to a hard hat and construction trailer before she discovered she was a Hinton heir.
“Jace was here for a while and they played tag.” She huffed out a sigh. “That kid can run! I thought Jace and I were in good shape, but Rex ran rings around us.”
Rex giggled. Charlotte tickled his tummy. “Oh, you won this afternoon but Uncle Jace and I will be back.”
“I really appreciate you and Leni watching him today. Having Alisha bring him this morning was a shock. Apparently, her employer wanted her in Spain right away and she had to leave immediately. I’m just glad I already had the nursery set up and essentials bought for the weekends I had visitation. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
“Hey, that’s what family does.” She laughed. “Or at least that’s what I’m told. How do three people who were raised as only children end up siblings?”
“Our dad was a runaround.”
She snorted and picked up her big purse. “That should be my line.” She leaned in and kissed Rex’s cheek, then Danny’s. “I’ve got to go. Let me know if you need help interviewing nannies.”
“Actually, I hired one.”
Charlotte stopped halfway to the elevator. “Really?”
“I don’t have the luxury of time. Rex is here now, and I need help. I called Jace this morning and he suggested an agency. Said it was the best nanny service in the business. They sent over three good candidates. I liked the one who looked a bit like Mary Poppins, but there was another candidate who seemed like she might be better.”
“Better how?”
“She’s younger.” He shook his head. “I don’t know... It seems like she has more energy or something.”
Charlotte took a step toward him. “After losing three games of tag, I’d say energy is a big plus.”
“Yes. And she’s already been vetted by the agency. I don’t have to do a background check myself or call references. I know she’s reputable.”
Charlotte’s smile unexpectedly drooped. “You’re not checking anything?”
“That’s the whole purpose of going through an agency. Especially this one. Jace says they are the best.”
Charlotte laughed. “He does know what he’s talking about.” She frowned. “It looks like you won’t need me anymore.”
“Don’t be disappointed. I’m sure Marnie will have days off, need personal time, take sick days.”
“And I can babysit?”
“You and Leni can split the days.”
“And there’s the drawback to having siblings.” She reached out and lightly pinched Rex’s cheek. “I don’t want to share this little guy.”
“Does that mean I can call you at 2:00 a.m. when he starts wailing?”
She breezed toward the elevator again, slinging her big gray purse over her shoulder. “Not a chance. But I am good for afternoons and weekends.” She pressed the button. “Tell your nanny that.”
The doors opened and Rex and Danny waved goodbye. As the elevator door closed behind his sister, he carried Rex to the kitchen. “I’m sure your aunt Charlotte fed you dinner but let’s see about a snack.”
Generally, he knew what he was doing, but he didn’t remember all the specifics about Rex’s routine. He reached for the three single-spaced pages of notes Rex’s mom, Alisha, had given Danny when she shifted custody that morning.
“It says here you get a snack.”
Rex’s eyes widened with pleasure. “Snack.”
“Before bed,” Danny added, finishing the sentence he’d started.
Rex frowned.
“Maybe some juice t
o tide you over. We don’t want you messy when the new nanny gets here.”
“Nanny.”
Danny laughed. “You have a really interesting repeating words thing going on. I’m guessing that’s part of how you learn.”
“Learn.”
Danny sniffed and kissed Rex’s forehead before going to the refrigerator. He pulled out the bottle of apple juice, but it bumped the gallon of milk and knocked it to the floor. Danny jumped out of the way with a gasp, but he didn’t make it. When the gallon hit the shiny white tile, it broke and milk sprayed outward and upward, soaking him and Rex.
“I’ll bet handling this isn’t on your mother’s list.”
Rex blinked twice, his little face twisted, and he yelped, then began to sob. He was coated in milk. So was Danny, but Danny’s shoes were also soaked. He held one up and it dripped liquid.
“Definitely not on your mother’s list.”
He stood there for a few seconds, shell-shocked, but more confused. There were so many things that needed to be done at once. Everything from changing his clothes and Rex’s clothes to cleaning the floor and cabinets and getting a new gallon of milk as soon as possible because Rex always drank some before bed.
But looking at the mess—milk on the floor, dripping from the doors of the lower cabinets and soaking his clothes—his brain froze.
CHAPTER THREE
MARNIE WALKED INTO the building containing Danny Manelli’s penthouse, and her eyes widened, her breath stalled. Not because she recognized the building—thank God. But from awe. This lobby looked more like someone’s sleek, sophisticated living room with midcentury modern sofas sitting at an angle to a stacked stone fireplace and a view of workout equipment beyond a wall of glass.
It reminded her of the building she and her mom had lived in with her dad. New and filled with amenities. Not that she thought her dad lived here. He lived on the Upper East Side. Or had fourteen years ago.
There was nothing to fear from him.
A doorman sat at a desk tucked discreetly in the corner. Wearing a white golf shirt, he watched her closely. Probably because she looked lost, out of place. In a way, she was. She couldn’t see the elevator that was supposed to take her to the penthouse.
