7+Us Makes Nine: A Nanny Single Dad Romance (Baby Makes Three)

by Nicole Elliot

  “Will do, sir.”

  I closed my eyes and leaned back into my chair, listening to the sounds of the growing press outside of my theater.

  The conditions of our custody agreement were simple. Anya couldn't see the kids-- even with supervised visits-- until she got sober. That was it. She checked herself into rehab for the second time in our relationship just after our very public divorce finalized. She got out and had supervised visitation with the children every weekend, but then she came over one time and was clearly high. I had her escorted off the premises and hadn’t heard anything from her until I caught wind that she’d checked herself into rehab again two weeks ago.

  I had hopes for this recuperation, too. For the sake of the kids.

  Until this damn media storm.

  My phone rang in my pocket and I picked it up. The only person who would be calling me at this time of the day would be my nanny, Gertrude. She was a lovely woman, and a hell of a tank to run behind three children during the day. I hired her on permanently once I gained custody of the kids two years ago, but I was soon going to lose her due to retirement.

  And she deserved it. Every ounce of it.

  But it meant I had to prepare myself to find another nanny.

  “Hello, Miss Gertrude.”

  “Daddy?”

  “Michaela?” I asked. “Are you okay?”

  “She wanted to talk with you!” Gertrude exclaimed in the background.

  “What is it, sweetie?” I asked. “Did you have another nightmare?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What was it about?”

  “A monster.”

  “And what did the monster do to you?” I asked.

  “He sleeps on floor,” she said.

  “Well I can promise you, princess, that there are no monsters on the floor.”

  “Miss ‘Gerchoo’ stay?”

  I sighed and closed my eyes as I pinched the bridge of my nose.

  “Miss Gertrude can’t stay tonight,” I said. “She has to go home. What if you slept with me tonight?”

  “No.”

  “Michaela.”

  “Miss ‘Gerchoo’ stay!”

  “She can’t, princess. I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Pwease?”

  The sound of her begging broke my heart. Michaela had been having nightmares for the past month, and the only thing she asked for was our nanny to stay behind with her at night. I had asked her on multiple occasions to be a live-in nanny. I tried to reason with her. I upped her pay. Gave her more benefits. Free rein of the house. Anything she wanted. But Gertrude was sixty years old and had an established life and home of her own.

  The only option I had was to try and find a new nanny. One that would live-in with us and give Michaela the comfort she obviously needed.

  “What about this? If you let Daddy work real hard today, I’ll come home early. We can talk with Miss Gertrude and see what we can do. Okay?” I asked.

  “Otay.”

  “I love you, princess. You know that, right?”

  “Wuv-eeoo.”

  I closed my eyes as my heart swelled at that sound. Michaela had never been an affectionate baby. Always so serious. Hell, I hadn’t seen her smile for the first time until she was almost one year old. She was three years old and just started giving kisses and hugs to those she trusted the most. I knew it would be a hard transition on her to adjust to a new nanny, but that was the only way I could think to rectify the situation in front of me.

  And I’d make sure to give Gertrude a wonderful bonus to send her off into her retirement.

  “I’ll see you soon, princess. Okay?” I asked.

  “Otay.”

  “Be good for Miss Gertrude.”

  “Otay.”

  Then the line went dead and I was left in my office alone again.

  I turned on my computer and ignored the roaring headlines in my face. Everyone was reporting on Anya. Everyone was picking apart what she was wearing and how she was walking and her face as she left that rehab center early. They’d reported on her two weeks ago when she entered, and they were reporting on her now.

  This was why I didn’t have televisions in my house. This was why my children didn’t have tablets and cell phones at such a young age. Because they would see their mother doing this type of shit all the time.

  And I didn’t want them to see her like that.

  I opened up a few emails and sent off some requests. I had people I knew that could find me a suitable nanny that would consider being a live-in. Putting out feelers was all I had the time to do if I was going to get home early to see my kids, and I knew Ivan and Dmitri would be happy to see me. I started typing away quickly, trying to get as much work behind me as headline after headline kept dinging in the corner of my computer screen.

  Fuck.

  I was going to be bombarded with it all damn day.

  Three

  Catherine

  “I still can’t believe they fired you,” Natasha said.

  “What a bunch of assholes. What the hell are they thinking!?” Emma asked.

  “What’s done is done, and I’m honestly better off for it,” I said as I stabbed at my salad. “Because now, I can search for a job that makes me happy.”

  “Were you not happy at Lawrence Day?” Natasha asked.

  “I was. But it had its challenges just like any other place. I enjoyed it enough, but there are things I’d give up in an official school setting to have in a more private setting,” I said.

  “Like what?” Emma asked.

  “For one, those school lunches. I could make better lunches than that,” I said. “And all of the parent-teacher meetings after hours. My gosh. I need my evenings. That’s my wine-drinking time.”

  “It sounds like you don’t want to go back to teaching at all,” Emma said.

  “I don’t. I actually think I’m going to take the nannying route,” I said.

  “Oh, you would be so good as a nanny,” Natasha said. “Your passion for helping children and educating them while keeping a relaxed schedule? Nannying is right up your alley. It turned out for me!”

  “The only reason I didn’t pursue it in the first place was because I didn’t come out of college with enough references. It didn’t occur to me that nannying could be a position I could support myself on,” I said. “And that daycare? Don’t get me started.”

  “That place was horrid. I’m surprised you didn’t report it,” Natasha said. “They had two cabinets full of unauthorized medication.”

  “Which I threw out on an almost-daily basis,” I said. “And trust me, I reported them once I left.”

  “You did?” Emma asked. “What happened?”

  “They cleaned up their act before going right back to it, the last time I checked,” I said.

  “That’s terrible. The childcare in San Francisco sometimes is despicable,” Natasha said. “It’s why I stay home with all the kids, and will for as long as I can.”

  “Same here,” Emma said. “There are very few people I would trust with my children.”

  “Any of you guys looking for a nanny?” I asked with a grin.

  “Trust me, if I was you’d be the first to know,” Natasha said. “The one I’ve got helping though is phenomenal. You know she’s a trained masseuse as well? I take full advantage of that.”

  “Yeah, I’m not massaging your nasty feet,” I said.

  “Well, if you’re being serious, I am looking for a nanny that could come work for me. But it wouldn’t be a full-time position,” Emma said.

  “Is everything okay?” Natasha asked.

  “Oh yeah. Everything’s fine. I’m trying to get my own little business off the ground,” she said with a grin.

  “Oh my gosh. Do tell,” Natasha said. “What is it? When are you starting? Is it one of those in-home ‘we throw parties and you buy shit’ kind of things?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m taking on some writing gigs. Apparently, I’m pretty good at reviewing t
hings,” Emma said.

  “You mean those Facebook posts where you slaughter other people’s products?” Natasha asked.

  “What now?” I asked.

  “You really need to get in on the social media world,” Natasha said. “Emma’s Facebook is hilarious. She has all these products she’s fed up with, so she took to her status and started ranting about them. They make my night, Emma. Carter and I love them.”

  “Well, I’ve had people contact me and ask me to review their product. They’ve even offered to send me their products free-of-charge, no kidding,” Emma said.

  “Why would someone want to send you their product if you’re going to tear them to shreds?” I asked.

  “It’s actually a thing,” Emma said. “Companies send products to people who specifically focus on problem areas. They send back a private analysis of the product so they can enhance it and fix it before it goes to market. Then I get another free-of-charge finished product and post a review somewhere. I could build a website and sell advertising space and all that.”

  “That’s awesome,” Natasha said. “Good for you!”

  “As much as I’d love to help you out, I’m going to need more than a part-time position to keep up with my bills and stuff. But I really appreciate the offer,” I said.

  “I figured I would throw it out there. If you don’t have anyone that approaches you with a job, mine’s always open. The kids would love to have you around, and it would give you some flow of income until you find something more permanent,” Emma said.

  “I really appreciate it, girl. Thanks,” I said with a smile.

  “Oh! Oh! Oh! Wait, before I ask. How do you feel about paparazzi?” Natasha asked.

  “It’s a pretty good song if you ask me,” I said.

  “Be serious. How do you feel about the press?” Natasha asked.

  “Why?”

  “Just answer the damn question, Cat.”

  “You’re asking someone who doesn’t own a television how I feel about people who make their living from televised material. I think they’re pointless and a bunch of hound dogs,” I said.

  “Yeah reminder on how she treated Ryan.”

  “Ha good point, but that might work to her advantage. Okay. So, I heard from Carter that Jace is looking for a new nanny. His is apparently about to retire,” Natasha said.

  “Jace Logan?” I asked as I scrunched up my face. “Isn’t that the guy with the druggie ex-wife?”

  “That guy, yes. I know he’s in the news-”

  “He’s in the news a lot because of her. That woman is nothing but drama.”

  “How do you know he’s in the news if you don’t have a television?” Emma asked.

  “Because I’m assaulted with news everywhere I go. Just because I don’t have a television doesn’t mean other people and places don’t. Asshole.”

  “Jace is a great guy,” Natasha said. “And he pays very, very well.”

  “I appreciate the heads up, but I just got out of one very dramatic situation that didn’t end well. The last thing I need is to willingly step into another one,” I said.

  “For someone who needs a job, you sure are picky,” Emma said with a grin.

  “I’ll throw the rest of my vinaigrette dressing all over you,” I said.

  “Oh, the humanity!” Emma said dramatically. “You’ll break my heart.”

  “Well, I’m going to give you his number anyway,” Natasha said as she pulled out a card and a pencil.

  “That’s not necessary,” I said.

  “Just take the damn number,” she said as she slid it over to me. “If you hit dead ends, give him a call. Carter and Jace have done a lot of business together in the past, so you can tell him I referred you. He really is a great guy. He’ll treat you fairly and he won’t try to shove his hand up your skirt.”

  “That would be a nice job perk, to not be accosted by my boss,” I said.

  I picked up the card and stuck it into my purse.

  “Give him a call if you change your mind,” Emma said. “His kids are precious. Michaela’s three, and she’s the only biological child. Ivan and Dmitri are both six. They were adopted from the Ukraine.”

  “I don’t need information on the guy’s kids,” I said. “I don’t even know if I’m going to call him.”

  “Well that’s a far cry from ‘I refuse to call him at all’, so we’re getting somewhere,” Natasha said.

  I rolled my eyes as I took another massive bite of my salad. The last thing I needed was another dramatic situation. And everyone knew that Anya Petrov was nothing but drama. I made it a point to stay away from the news and electronics on a daily basis, and even I knew her nickname.

  Hollywood Harlot.

  And if I took some sort of job with her ex-husband, it undoubtedly meant I’d have to interact with her. Whether for supervised visits or impromptu drop-ins.

  I just wasn’t sure if I was willing to take on that kind of drama.

  Then again, I was looking for kids to nurture. Educate. Comfort and guide.

  And if there were any kids in this city that needed that kind of atmosphere, it was Jace Logan’s kids.

  Fuck.

  I was going to end up calling the man.

  Four

  Catherine

  I looked down at my ringing cell phone and froze. It was a name I hadn’t seen pop up on my phone in years. Was something wrong? Had something happened to Dad?

  I picked up the phone immediately when I saw my mother’s name blink upon the screen.

  “Hello?” I asked.

  “Catherine. It’s your mother.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “Oh. I figured my number was no longer in your phone.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because you never use it.”

  “You don’t use mine either.”

  “I didn’t call to argue, Catherine. Can’t you keep your demeanor tepid for a second?” she asked.

  “What is it, Mom? Is Dad okay?”

  “Yes, yes. Your father’s fine. Not that you would know. You never call him, either.”

  “You don’t want me to fight but you want to fight?” I asked.

  “I’m calling with regard to your sister.”

  “Hannah? Is something wrong with her?”

  “She’s gotten herself into a spot of trouble at school,” she said.

  “And you're calling me because…?”

  “I was hoping you could talk with her.”

  “What did Hannah do?”

  “She was caught drinking at a party.”

  “Well, Hannah did just turn twenty-one,” I said. “That type of thing is bound to happen.”

  “Not in our family. We keep a straight line. She’s in succession to take over the business. We can’t have the police calling us saying she’s stumbling home from a party at two in the morning.”

  “Oh, that’s what happened. Okay,” I said. “You made it sound like she was just drinking.”

  “No, she wasn’t ‘just drinking’. Though she shouldn't be doing it at all. It will ruin her figure.”

  “Uh huh. So you want your wine-guzzling daughter to talk with her about not drinking,” I said.

  “I swear, I don’t know where the two of you get your nasty habits.”

  “Dad,” I said plainly.

  “No, it was from that major of yours. Too much stress and not enough pay. But you never drank in college. Not like Hannah does.”

  “You’ll find any way to blame my bleak circumstances in my life on my education. I’m sorry I didn’t take over the family business. I’m sorry I don’t like technology. Now can we get back to talking about my sister? You know, the reason why you called me after years of not talking?” I asked.

  “If you picked up the phone, we would talk more often.”

  “It works both ways, Mom!”

  “Don’t you dare raise your voice at me. Your father and I did the best we could with you, and you were the one that chose this pa
th for your life. You were the one who switched your major without consulting us first.”

  “Because it’s my life,” I said. “How did we even get on this topic? I graduated from college six years ago. Get over it.”

  “How dare you speak to me like that.”

  “Well, if you didn’t call, I wouldn’t have to speak with you like that.”

  “Where in the world did you get such an attitude?” she asked.

  “You,” I said plainly. “And since we’re on the topic, you guys are the ones that treat me like the black sheep of the family. Verbally backing me into corners during the holidays and embarrassing me in front of your friends. That’s why I stopped calling. That’s why I stopped coming home. That’s why I moved to San Francisco. Because holidays were another excuse for you to criticize every life choice I’ve made up until this point before trying to convince me to go back to school and learn Dad’s trade.”

  “You could’ve been the first female succession ever to a technological conglomerate like your father has. Aren’t you into that sort of thing?” she asked.

  “Into that sort of-? Do you hear yourself?” I asked.

  “Can we get back to talking about your sister now?” my mother asked.

  “Sure. Let’s do that,” I said.

  “Hannah has entered a rehabilitation facility.”

  I felt my world come careening to a stop.

  “I thought you said she was found walking home drunk on campus, Mom.”

  “She was. But you started in on how inadequate I am as a parent before I could continue.”

  I bit down onto my tongue to keep from fighting with her any longer.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “When the officer found her stumbling along the side of the road, she lashed out at him. Assaulted him, Catherine.”

  “What? Are you serious?” I asked.

  “Very. She was taken to the station and tested, and they found a fun concoction of muscle relaxers in her bloodstream as well.”

  “Oh shit,” I said with a whisper.

  “Language Catherine. Your father and I decided to enroll her into rehab. This has gone on long enough and her partying has gotten far out of control.”