by Amy Brent
From any other person, this would have come out sounding snotty and arrogant. But Danielle was so genuinely concerned that it ended up sounding sweet. I wrapped her into a hug.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about her,” I said. “You’ve got enough on your plate. Now, do you have time for lunch?”
She squirmed. “I don’t know…I have so much work to do…”
“Come on, Danielle. Just a quick one.”
She gave me a knowing, sensual look. “With you, Roger, nothing is quick.”
At which point we both chuckled, and I gave her a kiss. This seemed to decide for her, for she at last agreed to eat with me, and we had a brief but pleasant meal at the hotel’s restaurant. Afterwards, she dashed off to work, and I ambled, feeling warm and stupid, to yet another business meeting.
That night, I found Maggie working studiously at the kitchen table when I got home – a sight which pleased me, for I was worried she might lapse back into her previous bad behavior without a nanny there. She greeted me with a kiss, and then asked how Danielle was doing.
“Very well, I think. A bit frazzled, perhaps.”
Maggie laughed. “She’ll get used to it. I know she can do it. I’m really glad you hired her, dad.”
“Me, too,” I said. “And don’t worry. I am looking for another nanny. And I’ll do my best to make sure she’s good.”
Maggie sighed, gave me a knowing look, but didn’t respond. She went back to working on her homework while I organized dinner.
That night, as I lay in bed, I found myself thinking about Danielle’s joke. With you, Roger, nothing is quick. This got me wondering about actually being fast – having a quickie while she was at work, for example. The pair of us in a broom closet, clinging tight to each other because there’s no room, with me thrusting as hard and fast as I could manage, for we would have only minutes before we were caught…
My hand snaked down beneath my sheets, and greeted my erection. I began to stroke, thinking all the while of sneaking off with Danielle, working for that lightning cum shot…
* * *
I overslept that morning, and it was actually Maggie who had to come in and wake me up. Her mumbles about me needing a nanny instead of her followed her all the way out the door, while I apologized and jumped out of bed.
After a quick shower and a bite to eat, I was ready for work and headed downstairs. I’d been spending so much time with Danielle lately (and slacking off at work because of it) that I had approximately a million and one things to do, and the morning passed in a harried blur. I wanted to go see Danielle for lunch, and it took all of my self-control to keep myself seated at my desk. Rita came in a few times to refresh my coffee and drop envelops on my desk, but she didn’t say anything. I guess she knew how distracted I was.
At last, the day dragged on to a close, limping past the finish line like a hobbled horse. I was just wrapping things up when my cellphone buzzed.
Huh, I thought. That’s weird. I didn’t recognize the number, and this was my private line. Only a select few people – like Danielle, Maggie, and Rita, for example – had it. Normally, the tidal waves on unknown calls were taken on my business line. Too tired to be curious, I clicked the button to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hello? Mr. Roger Clifton?” It was a woman’s voice, young and sweet.
“Speaking.”
“Hi! I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid you missed an interview with me this afternoon – for the nanny position? We were supposed to meet, and I didn’t know what to do when you didn’t show up…”
“Interview?” I echoed. What was she talking about? “I don’t remember any interview. Are you sure you had the right time?”
“Yes, sir. 2 o’clock today. I’ve got it written down.”
I glanced at my watch. Six p.m. Wow. I couldn’t believe how I could have forgotten. I guess my thoughts of Danielle really were clouding my brain.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I’ve just been so busy, it must have slipped my mind. Perhaps we can reschedule? Say, tomorrow at noon – ”
“Can you do tonight?”
Her interruption was sudden and blunt, and I could sense that, for whatever reason, this was really important to her.
“Uh, I’m not sure…”
“Please, sir. I reorganized my whole day for this interview. I could meet you at your place, if that works? Make it nice and easy?”
“Uh…”
I hesitated. I didn’t like feeling rushed, or meeting people at home, but obviously, I had been rude to this girl, and her eagerness was undeniable. Plus, I thought, if she comes to the suite she’ll be able to meet Maggie straight away. See if it’s a good match.
“Alright,” I said. “Go to the Clifton Hotel and ask for Rita at the manager’s desk. She’ll send you up.”
“Oh, thank you sir!” She said. “I’ll see you soon!”
With a rustle and a click, she hung up.
I sighed, thinking that this day could not possibly get any longer, and left my office. As I rode the elevator up, my thoughts kept switching from Danielle, and what a good nanny she was, to this new girl, wondering why on earth it was so important to interview tonight.
Chapter 18
Danielle
“Oh, Jacob, it was wonderful!” I exclaimed into my cellphone between bites of lasagna at the ritzy Italian restaurant where I was eating. I had just finished my second day as a concierge for The Clifton, and, even though it was late, I figured I’d reward myself with some high class food.
“That’s great, Danielle,” said Jacob. “I always knew you could do it – and so fast!”
“Thanks,” I said. In the background, I could hear the sound of my other brothers laughing and shouting as they played some sort of game. It made me both feel slightly homesick – I would love to be celebrating with them all – but also glad that I had decided to go to New York after all.
“And everything with Roger is going well?”
“Yup! He and I get along great. Though now that I’m not his nanny, I get to see him far less, which is annoying.”
“Oh, poor you,” Jacob teased. “You only get to see your billionaire boyfriend three times a week instead of five.”
I laughed, realizing how pampered I sounded. I was still laughing when my phone began to buzz. Another call was coming in.
“Huh, hold on Jacob. That’s Veronica on the other line. I better answer it. We’ve only just stopped fighting, you know?”
“Sure, sure. Hey, congratulations again. I’ll talk to you soon, okay? If you can weave me into your busy schedule!”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Goodbye!”
I ended the call and then opened Veronica’s.
“Danielle? Danielle! Thank goodness, are you there?”
Her words sounded terribly frantic, and set me immediately on edge.
“Christ, Vee, what’s going on?”
“Maggie just called. She’s terribly upset, and was looking for you.”
“Maggie?” I asked. Something was strange about that, nagging at my mind. I realized a moment later what it was. “Why would she call the landline? She has my cell.”
“I don’t know, Danielle!” She seemed annoyed that I would even ask such a question at a time like this. “Maybe because she was sobbing! Hysterical! Really upset!”
Poor Maggie! “Why? What was wrong with her?”
“She kept saying how she wanted you back as her nanny. She said everything would be horrible without you, and that she needed you. She wants you to come over, right now!”
I gasped, Veronica’s words slipping down my ears like an ice cube into my gut. I had thought that Maggie was okay with my new job. But I couldn’t leave her sobbing! Maybe if I just talked to her…
“Okay, Vee. I’ll be there right away. Thanks for letting me know.”
“Good luck,” she said, and hung up.
Even though I wasn’t finished, I shoved my plate away from me and slammed a fifty
dollar bill down on the table before dashing out of the restaurant. I’d just left the waiter a massive tip, but I didn’t care. I needed to get to Maggie as quickly as possible – plus, I was suddenly making more money than I had ever expected to in my whole life, anyway.
Once outside, I hailed a cab, wishing that I had Gregory to drive me around. Still, the cabby would get the job done, and I soon found myself speeding towards the Clifton Hotel, the bright lights of New York City after nightfall flashing in my eyes.
I paid they guy even before he finished braking in front of the hotel, and dashed inside. Despite the hour, the hotel was still fairly crowded, and I had to shoulder my way past several people to make it to the private elevator. Rita, seated at her desk, saw me and gave me a confused, worried look, but I didn’t have time to stop and talk to her. I could explain later.
The elevator doors opened, and I stepped inside. Whump. Whump. Whump. Floors swept past, each one an agonizing wait as I drew closer to Maggie, whom I imagined shaking with sobs.
Chapter 19
Roger
I got back to my suite as quickly as I could, and found Maggie curled on the couch with a book, having already finished her homework. I told her I would be interviewing a new candidate for the nanny position, and asked that she wait in her room until I got a feel of what this new woman was like. Part of this was merely practicality, but I think a deep part of me worried that the lady was a little bit bananas. There was that strange, pressing, over-eager way she’d insisted she be interviewed tonight… I sat myself down at the dining room table and waited.
A few minutes later, I heard the ding of the private elevator arriving. I jumped to my feet, and went over to the door to let her in.
“Whoa,” was the first thing I said upon seeing her. It was all I could think of to say. She was young and pretty, as I had predicted, but what I had not expected was her to show up wearing what she was.
She wasn’t dressed like any nanny I had ever seen.
A skin tight black dress, zippered up the front, highlighted the natural curves of her body and ended high up on her thighs to show healthy and strong skin. Her stockings ended in visible garters, her high heels were long enough to skewer a full shish kabob, and her face was so painted with dark make-up she could have been clubbing.
No, she certainly wasn’t dressed like a nanny. She was dressed like an escort.
“Hello, Roger,” she purred in a deep and intentionally sexy voice. Then, without invitation, she swept inside. I could smell her perfume – strong and musky – following after her like a train.
“I prefer ‘Mr. Clifton,” I said, following after and feeling distinctly uncomfortable. She turned and offered me a wink.
“Alright,” she said. “Mr. Clifton. Sir.”
She played with the final word on her tongue like one would a soft candy. Then, she proceeded right into the living room, and I had no choice but to follow.
“What’s your name?” I demanded as she settled down on my couch. Now that she was sitting, I could tell that the silken material of her dress would barely cover her lady-parts.
And I mean barely.
“Is that really important?” She asked. As she spoke, her hands went to the silver zipper at the top of her bust. Very slowly, she began pulling downward. Chink, chink, chink. I swear, I could hear each individual hook separating.
“Yes, it is important! If you are going to be my daughter’s nanny, we’ll need to know your name!”
“Oh, Roger,” she chuckled. “You still think this is about the nanny position?”
Zip! She pulled harder on her dress, and the zipper opened down the middle to reveal a gossamer black bra. I could see her nipples through the black fabric, red and hard.
I stared at her, and did not bother answering her question. It would have been stupid. Of course this wasn’t about the nanny position. Not now.
“Who are you?” I breathed.
The girl smiled, then slithered, with all the disturbing grace of a python, from the couch onto her knees. She was feet from me, and while my heart thundered in nervousness, I nonetheless felt a stirring in my loins. I fought it back and repeated my question.
“You can call me whatever you’d like,” the girl whispered. She was now inches from the crook of my pants. “But my friends call me Vee.”
Vee? Vee? Why did that name sound so familiar? But I couldn’t think about that. All I could focus on was her hand rising, reaching for the button of my slacks, and her mouth opening in a perfect little “o”…
“Enough!” I barked. I reached down, grabbed her by both shoulders, and then heaved her upward, slamming her against the wall. My body pressed against hers, but it was not sexual. No, I was seething with anger. And confusion.
“What do you want with me?” I demanded.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Even as I held her there, her hand snaked down between my legs, questing.
Vee…Vee…
“Veronica! You’re Danielle’s friend!”
“And an infinitely better lay, I can assure you.” Her hand found something hard and squeezed.
“No!” I grabbed her again, yanking her forward and slamming her back into the wall. A second later, my fingers landed on her throat. I did not squeeze, but I did not need to. My mastery over her was now complete.
I leaned close, my face millimeters from her own.
“Why would you do this?” I growled. “Why would you try to hurt your friend like this?”
She opened her mouth…and kissed me.
“Argh!” I jerked away in disgust. She tasted of cheap cherry cough syrup, smelt of smoke. But she could have tasted like the finest dish in the world, and I still would have been disgusted. I did not want to kiss this crazy woman. Danielle was the only one for me.
That’s when I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye.
Danielle.
“Roger?” She whimpered. “Veronica?” There she was, standing in the doorway, staring at her friend and her boyfriend pressed up against each other on the wall.
I released Veronica. She fell to the ground, rubbing at her neck and grinning.
“Danielle,” I said, “Danielle, it’s not what it looks like…”
“Whoo-he!” Croaked Veronica. “I know why you like him, Danielle! What a fuck!”
Danielle’s eyes darted from me down to Veronica, glistening like a wounded animal’s. A tear fell, rolling down her cheek, pale with horror.
“Goodbye Veronica,” she said. “Goodbye, Roger. We’re through.”
With a swallowed sob, she bolted from the apartment.
“Danielle! No! Please!” I called, trying to chase after her, but she got a head start, and the elevator was closing by the time I got to the door. The last thing I saw of her was a single eye, glaring at me in rage even as it streamed with tears. Her glance shot through me like a spear, rooting me to the spot, and all I could do was watch as the elevator doors closed, and she went downward – for the last time.
Seething, I marched back into my living room. Veronica was there, zipping up her dress like a showgirl after a performance.
“This really is nice apartment,” she said. “What a shame.”
My composure broke. I lunched at her, my fingers outstretched into claws. I did not know what I planned to do. I had never hit a woman before, but in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to make her suffer –
“Daddy?”
It was Maggie, framed by the hallway to her room. She glanced at Veronica, dressed like a slut, and my, my face a pounding red, my hands trembling.
“Daddy, is everything okay? What’s going on? Where’s Danielle?”
I gazed at my daughter, so pure and tiny and innocent, and found I was able to swallow my anger.
“Everything’s fine,” I said. Then, I turned to Veronica. “Get out. And if I ever see you in this hotel again, I swear to god I’ll have you arrested.”
“Trust me,” Veronica said. “You won’t.”
And
she sauntered out the door, her stupid high heels click-clacking all the way.
After she left, all my anger seemed to leave with her, leaving me with nothing but a hollow sort of grief. It was a familiar feeling – almost like the one I’d had when my wife had died.
“Daddy? Daddy, what happened?” Maggie begged to know. But I couldn’t answer her. All I could do was sag down onto my couch, cover my eyes, and breathe.
Just breathe, I told myself over and over. Just breathe.
Chapter 20
Danielle
I saw them. The pair of them. Veronica half naked. Roger clothed, but his body pressed against hers, his hands touching her, her shoulders, her neck.
Then, the tears came, and I saw no more.
I don’t know how I made it out of the hotel without breaking something. Everything was a blur. The startled faces of my co-workers, Rita’s worried frown, the false smile of the bellhop, and then – New York City.
I didn’t make it far. A café down the road. Small. Cramped. Private due to the raucous crowd. I wiped my face with a bunch of napkins, ordered a soda, and then, with trembling fingers, pulled out my cell phone.
