The Nanny (A Billionaire Romance)

by Naomi Niles

  "What about Halle?" she asked.

  "I'll take care of her," Missy said with a defensive air. "I'm her mother. She should be with me and not some nanny whore."

  "I mean, who's going to pick her up from her friend's house?" Rachelle snapped.

  "I'll take care of it," I said, hoping to calm the situation. Their bickering was driving me crazy. Looking at Missy, I continued, "Maybe you should go someplace for your safety, too."

  "And leave my kid in your custody? Fucking forget it. My legal team at The Family First Center tells me that staying here and caring for Halle is the best way to secure getting custody from the judge. I'm not leaving here until I've gotten a job and my own apartment, and I can take Halle with me. Nice try, asshole."

  "I wasn't trying to trick you," I said earnestly. "Stuart is out there somewhere, and I'm just trying to keep everyone safe."

  "The only person whose safety you should worry about is your own. After all the bullshit you've put me through, I'm done pretending to be friends. The next time Stuart shows up, I won't save your asses like I did the last time." Missy glared at me and Rachelle before she turned on her heel and stormed out the door.

  Chapter Fifty-Five: Rachelle

  "It sure is nice having you home again," Mama said to me with a smile over the breakfast table.

  "It feels good to be home," I said, but it felt like a lie. As much as I had loved getting to spend time with my mother these past few days, her apartment no longer felt like home. I felt like a visitor, and I couldn't wait to get back to my real home in the mansion with Tate and Halle.

  "You sure were up late last night," Mama commented nonchalantly as she took a sip of her tea. I felt my cheeks instantly turn pink.

  "I'm sorry. Did my talking on the phone wake you? I didn't mean to disturb you," I flustered.

  "Not at all." Mama chuckled good-naturedly, and it felt good to see her laugh. "It reminded me of when you were a teenager, and you'd get a crush on some boy at school. You'd stay up for hours into the night gossiping, giggling, and flirting. I take it you were talking to a young man."

  "Not exactly." My blush deepened to an even brighter crimson. "It was my boss, Tate. He was worried about me and wanted to make sure I hadn't had any trouble with Stuart. Then we got to talking about the security improvements on the house, and Halle, and the funny things she'd done that day. That's what all the giggling was about."

  "I see," Mama said with a smile. Then she turned on me knowingly, and asked, "Is something going on between the two of you? You seem much closer than the average employer and employee relationship."

  "We like each other," I said in a gross understatement. I wanted to tell Mama the truth, but I knew she'd die if she found out I was having sex with my boss – especially since it had all begun as part of my job and then grew into more.

  "Doesn't the mother of his child live in the house with him?" she asked keenly.

  "Yes, but they're not a couple." I explained everything to Mama as much as I could, telling her all about Missy's drug addiction and her current attempt to gain custody of Halle. I told her how special the little girl had become to me and how she had told me she wished I was her mother. Then, in a moment of pure bravery, I confided in her that I had fallen in love with Tate Holland.

  "Does he feel the same way for you?" Her eyes shimmered with emotion, but I couldn't tell if she was happy for me, disappointed, or heartbroken. All I knew was that she wanted what was best for me.

  "He's very guarded with his emotions," I said cryptically. "We have a lot of fun together, and as you heard, he calls me every night to check on me. I think there's something there between us, but something is holding him back from really opening himself up to me."

  "Like what?"

  "I don't know. There are a lot of things from his past that he never talks about. I want to ask him, but I don't want to push him too fast."

  I was thinking specifically about Missy's words, telling me that Tate had a dark secret hidden in his past. I'd wanted to ask him about it a dozen times since then, but it just didn't feel right talking to him about something like that over the phone. If only we could see each other face to face so I could read his emotions and expressions, maybe I could work up the courage. Since that was an impossibility right now, the mysterious secret weighed heavily on my thoughts.

  I was probably making a bigger deal of it in my imagination than it would turn out to be in real life, but I couldn't help myself. I needed to know what it was, and the fact that Tate hadn't told me about it himself and Missy had been the one to bring it up to me made me wonder just how much I could trust him.

  "When the time is right, I'm sure he'll confide in you," my mother said, pulling me from my reverie. "You just need to be patient."

  "I guess you're right; it's just that—" I started to fuss, but Mama cut me off.

  "It's not as if you're in a serious relationship with him. Has he asked you to be his girlfriend?"

  "He hasn't even taken me out on date yet," I said, and Mama just rolled her eyes at me.

  "Well then, you've got nothing to worry about yet. Once he's ready to commit to you, then you'll have to demand full disclosure out of him. Until then, it's too early," she said confidentially. "Then, if he still refuses to open up, you'll have to cut him loose. You can't have a future with a man who won't be honest about his past."

  Mama was great at keeping things in perspective, and it was so great to be able to spend time with her again so we could talk about things like this. She was always there for me, and I liked getting to be there for her, too.

  The next day, I went with her to her doctor’s appointment and held her hand while the doctor gave his prognosis. He said it was time to conduct some tests to see if her treatments had indeed put her cancer into remission. Afterwards, we celebrated with lunch at her favorite restaurant, I took her shopping for a new dress, and finally to the beauty salon for a makeover with acrylic nails and a new wig.

  "This is too extravagant," Mama flushed as she ran her fingers through her head of shoulder-length blonde hair.

  "Nothing's too good for you, Mama." I gave her shoulders a squeeze as we both admired her appearance in the mirror together. "This wig makes you look like yourself again."

  "It's not the hair; it's having you around again." She hugged me back. "When are you going to be done with this job?"

  "I don't know," I said, but I had a bad feeling it would be soon. I couldn't avoid talking to Tate forever, but the strain of not knowing his secret was silently destroying our relationship from inside. It was a bitter irony that while Mama's cancer might have be going into remission, a new sort of cancer had developed in my personal life, and this one could be even harder to cure.

  Mama was still laughing and smiling at her new look as our taxi pulled up in front of her dingy apartment building.

  "My goodness, what is all that?" she cried out. I looked out the car window to see a red Porsche 911 parked in front of the building. A handsome man wearing a striking black suit from Dolce and Gabbana with a thin silver tie was standing by the car, holding a dozen red roses.

  "It's Tate," I cried out happily. The taxi had barely come to a stop before I jumped out of the backseat and rushed to him.

  "Are those for me?" I asked, indicating the gorgeous flowers.

  "Actually, they're for your mother." Tate smiled charmingly and handed the bouquet to Mama. "Mrs. Clare, I wanted to congratulate you on raising such a fine daughter. She's doing an amazing job of taking care of my daughter, and I know the way she acts around children must be a direct correlation to how she was brought up."

  "Thank you, Mr. Holland. Would you like to come inside and have some tea?" Mama flushed like a school girl with a crush.

  "I appreciate the invitation, but I'm afraid I must be going. I have dinner plans."

  "I can't believe you came all this way just to be so kind to Mama," I flushed. It was good to see her looking so happy, but I had to admit I was feeling disappointed th
at he couldn't stay. It felt surprisingly wonderful to see him again, and I hated for this moment to end.

  "Actually, I came for you." His words surprised me. "The security improvements on the house are complete, and I've come to bring you home."

  "I thought you said you had dinner plans." I arched my left brow at him.

  "I do – with you. What do you say? Will you come home and have dinner with me?" He grinned flirtatiously, and it was more than I could resist. Flinging my arms around his strong neck, I kissed him with happy excitement.

  "Yes." I was smiling broadly. I didn't even bother to go back upstairs to pack my things. I knew I had better clothes waiting for me at home.

  Home. It felt so good to be going back to the place I loved and truly belonged. The moment I walked through the door, I was greeted by Halle's welcoming shout as she ran into my arms and hugged me tight.

  "I missed you so much, Rachelle." The little girl cried tears of joy, and I felt my own eyes fill with emotion as I hugged her back.

  "I missed you, too."

  "I made you some drawings," Halle boasted.

  "Let's go up to the nursery and you can show me." I reached for her hand, but she suddenly drew back from me.

  "I can't tonight. I have to go with her," Halle said sadly, and I was shocked to see Emma step out of the shadows and take the little girl's hand.

  "You're back? You look wonderful!" I couldn't stop myself from hugging the cranky old housekeeper who had given me so much grief over the last few months.

  She hugged me back stiffly until I finally let her go. Mustering up what must have been a smile, she said, "It feels good to be back. I'll take care of putting Halle to bed tonight. Mr. Holland wanted you to have the evening off so you could spend time together."

  It was the kind of comment that was usually dripping with disapproval and condemnation, but not tonight. Is it possible Emma has come to accept my relationship with Tate as more than just a tawdry affair?

  "Where's Missy?"

  "At work. She got a job working with a janitorial company. She says that will give her days off to take care of Halle when she gets custody, but I suspect it won't last long. I can't picture Missy mopping floors."

  "I don't want to live with Mommy. I want to stay here with you," Halle wailed, and the way she clasped my hand along with Tate's let me know she meant me, too, and not just her father.

  "Don't worry, sweetheart. I promise never to lose you," Tate vowed, kissing his daughter’s cheeks.

  "All right. Let's settle down for bed with a nice princess story," Emma artfully changed the subject. "Go to the nursery and pick out a book, and we'll read it together after your bath."

  Cheering excitedly, Halle ran up the stairs with Emma walking behind her. Tate put his arms around my waist, holding me close as we watched them leave. Emma paused halfway up the stairs to look back at us, and I saw a twinkling in her craggy eyes that may have even been joy at seeing the two of us together.

  As soon as Emma and Halle had disappeared into the nursery, Tate took my mouth with his in a powerful kiss. His lips forced mine apart and his tongue intruded. I was taken aback by the passion of his embrace, and it literally took my breath away. I gave myself up to it, clutching my arms around his muscular torso and letting my body go limp in his strong arms, clinging to him.

  "It's so good to have you home again. I really missed you." Tate gazed down at me with his hazel eyes glittering when at last we broke apart.

  "Thank you. I feel the same way." I felt my cheeks blush.

  He took me by the hand and guided me into the dining room, where I saw the table wasn't set with the normal dinner wear, but with two place settings of his finest china dishes and crystal stem wear. A centerpiece of gorgeous flowers decorated the intimate setting, lit by candles in elegant crystal holders, with a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket nearby.

  "I told you I had dinner plans," he chuckled gently as I gasped at the beautiful sight.

  He pulled out my chair for me and I sat. Seeing my reflection in the china plate before me, I fussed with my hair and said, "I feel pitifully underdressed."

  "You have never looked more beautiful." He kissed my cheek with sensual lips as he tucked my chair in. Then he bowed chivalrously and said, "Excuse me while I get the food."

  He went to the kitchen, and I quickly adjusted my hair and dress, trying to look as nice for him as possible. He returned a few minutes later with potholders on his hands and an apron protecting his suit, carrying a sizzling hot roasting pan.

  "Let me help you with that." I started to stand, but he refused to let me.

  "No, tonight you are the guest of honor. Let me be the one to do all the work."

  He lifted the lid off the pan to reveal a sumptuous boeuf bourguignon and served it onto our plates. It smelled divine, and I couldn't help but ask, "Where did this come from?"

  I expected the name of some fancy French restaurant with delivery service, but Tate just grinned and pointed at himself.

  "You made this? I didn't know you could cook." My surprise was evident.

  "We'll see if I can," he said with self-deprecating humor, but when I took a bite, it melted in my mouth.

  We spent the evening eating, drinking wine, and talking like a couple out on a real date. Then, in a revelation, I suddenly realized that's exactly what this was. Tate had cooked an intimate dinner for two, served in a romantic setting on his best china, while the staff cared for his child. This wasn't just a nice dinner to welcome his nanny back home; this was a date.

  Everything he had done tonight had been in an effort to woo and impress me. He didn't need to seduce me into bed; we'd had a sexual relationship since my first week staying in the mansion. This was something more. Tate wanted to have an emotionally intimate relationship with me, like a real dating couple. He wanted me to be his girlfriend.

  It was what I had been hoping for, and my heart fluttered rapidly in my chest, only to plummet to the pit of my stomach like a stone. Mama's words echoed in my mind. It time to insist that Tate shared with me the secrets of his past if we were going to have a future together.

  Chapter Fifty-Six: Tate

  The evening was going just as I had hoped it would. I'd planned every detail and carefully prepared all the food in the kitchen before putting the roast in the oven and driving downtown to pick up Rachelle from her mothers.

  I'd never seen her looking more beautiful, and when I felt her soft lips on mine, I instantly became hard.

  "You know, this is the first time I've ever cooked for anyone," I confessed as she bit into the boeuf bourguignon. I was terrified it would be too tough, but it was as perfect as she was.

  We talked for a long time, and I held her hand as she told me about her mother's visit with the doctor and enjoyed making her laugh with silly stories about Halle's antics and what a pain the ass Missy was.

  Then, completely out of nowhere, the atmosphere changed and Rachelle became strangely quiet. I had a feeling I knew what why, but I had to proceed carefully.

  "Speaking of Missy, I've been wanting to talk to you about what she said the day you left."

  "You have?" Her voice sounded both surprised and hopeful as she gazed at me with enormous blue eyes. All I wanted to do was kiss her, but I had to force myself to stay on the subject at hand. It was important, and I couldn't keep putting it off any longer.

  "She said some things about a nanny from my distant past."

  "Well, Missy's always saying outrageous things. I try not to pay too much attention to any of it." Rachelle gracefully tried to give me an out, but I refused to take it. It was time for me to man up and reveal the truth, no matter how humiliating or shameful it might be.

  "Well, this time what she said wasn't quite as outrageous as you may have hoped."

  "What do you mean?" She looked so innocent, I wasn't sure if I could go through with telling her the truth. What if it changed the way she felt about me? Realizing that was ridiculous, I pushed forward.

&n
bsp; I suddenly felt constrained by the table, like it was trapping me and I had to get away. I stood up and walked to the window where I could look out at the stars. Rachelle came to stand beside me, and feeling her hands on my arm gave me the courage to continue. Unable to look at her, I said to the night sky, "It has to do with me and my fetish for nannies."

  "I know I'm not the first nanny you've had sex with," she said easily. "It's no secret that you're sexually attracted to women with a certain look and career."

  "No, but the reason why might surprise you," I said sheepishly, and she looked at me expectantly.

  I needed some air, so I walked out into the garden. Rachelle matched my steps but didn't push me for answers. She just strolled along with me in silence until I was finally ready to speak.

  "I didn't realize it would be so difficult to dredge up these old memories," I confessed. "It all started when I was about six or seven years old. My father was a workaholic. Nothing meant more to him than the business of making money, including me and my mother. He locked himself away in his office and wanted nothing to do with either of us. If we dared to try and get his attention, he'd unleash his ugly temper upon us.

  “It was a lonely life with no escape. That's why my mother turned to drinking. At first, it was just a cocktail with lunch, then another. Soon after, it was Bloody Marys with breakfast and mimosas in between. After a while, she gave up all pretenses of hiding her alcoholism and would sit in the house and drink from the moment she woke up until she finally passed out in the evening."

  "How awful." Rachelle squeezed my hand sympathetically.

  "I tried to take care of her, but I couldn't. I was just a few years older than Halle is now and too young to take care of myself, let alone her. My father couldn't be bothered to do it; his work was so much more important. So he hired a nanny to look after me.

  “Her name was Cheryl; she was eighteen and absolutely beautiful. She was caring and sweet, and I had never loved anyone so much, except for my mother. She cared about me, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I mattered to someone."