I nod. “I can see why you would think that.” I swallow the lump of sand in my throat. Oh fucking hell, get me out of here. This is mortifying. I readjust my nightdress to try and cover my breasts. “It wasn’t intended to be creepy.”
He lifts his chin in defiance. “We’ll talk about this tonight when I have more time.” I collect air in my cheeks and nod.
“Now, if you don’t mind, will you please go and put some damn clothes on?” he snaps.
“Yes, sir,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.” I drop my eyes to the floor.
“I need to go to work.” He gestures toward the door with his hand. I exhale heavily and start walking.
“Miss Brielle?”
I spin back to him.
“The children go to bed at 8:30 p. m. sharp. I would like a meeting with you then.”
“Of course.” I hesitate, and then, unable to help it, I blurt out my thoughts, “Are you going to fire me, Mr. Masters?”
His eyebrows rise, and he pauses for a moment. “Let’s take the day to reassess?”
My eyes hold his for a moment. “Yes, of course. Have a nice day,” I mutter as I leave the room. I feel the heat from his stare on my back as I walk away.
I rush down the stairs as fast as I can, back into the safety of my room, I close the door behind me, lean on it and shut my eyes. I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life, but I think that really takes the cake.
I drop to the bed and put my head into my hands as my heart hammers in my chest. What kind of fool gets caught in her new boss’s bedroom, in her pyjamas, sniffing his aftershave on her first day of work? Of course, he would forget his stupid phone on that exact day, wouldn’t he?
Now if you don’t mind, will you please go and put some damn clothes on.
His words run through my mind and I cringe. My thoughts are interrupted as I hear a car door slam outside. I go to the window and peer through the sheer curtain, watching on as Mr. Masters gets into his flashy black car before it slowly disappears down the driveway.
Day one got off to a great start.
What the hell am I doing?
I’m on the other side of the world pretending to be a super nanny. Who was I kidding? I don’t know the first damn thing about looking after children and minding my own business. I do know that I don’t want to have a meeting with him tonight.
What’s he going to say?
I remember the lame excuse I gave him about my father, and I cringe, filled with embarrassment. Oh, I can’t face him, it’s just too mortifying.
My mind goes to Emerson. I can’t stand the thought of letting her down. If I don’t have a job then I can’t afford to stay in England on our working holiday, and we’re both so excited for this adventure.
I stare at the carpet for a moment as I try to think of a solution.
If I just try to work as hard as I can so that I don’t get fired, I’ll be okay. As soon as I can find another job, I will, and then I’ll give my notice and leave. Emerson is tied here to her position for twelve months. I really need to make this work for her.
Just suck it up, princess.
Well, I did come to England for an adventure, and I suppose wearing a skimpy nightdress and getting caught in my boss’s bedroom could qualify as such.
It could be worse; he could have caught me masturbating to his photo.
A stupid smile crosses my face. Did he do what I thought he did, though? Did he really take my photo upstairs and get himself off last night, while picturing me, or am I just having some kind of boss fantasy?
I shrug to myself. It doesn’t matter either way, and I don’t care if he smells stupid hot. He’s too old for me. I just have to look after the kids and do my job. Yes, I can do this.
I feel my determination return.
Right, so what’s my plan of attack for today?
Get dressed, go back to the main house and be the best damn nanny I can be until I find another job. Yes.
I go the bathroom and stare at my reflection in the mirror. Despite my determination, my face is dejected and sad. It kind of feels weird living with people that aren’t my family, and I imagine it will take me some time to adjust. I swallow the lump in my throat.
It will be okay. Just try really hard and it will be okay.
An hour later, I’m sitting at the kitchen table, rolling my fingers. I’ve finished two cups of coffee and I’m already buzzing.
Am I supposed to wake these kids up?
I glance at my watch to see it’s 7:15 a. m.
What time do they have to be at school?
I stand and begin to pace back and forth. I don’t know what in hell I’m doing here. Mr. Masters hasn’t left any instructions or anything.
The phone on the wall in the kitchen begins to ring, and I look around, confused. Should I answer it?
Ring, ring.
Ring, ring.
I bite my thumbnail and stare at it as it vibrates on the wall. I peer into the living room, and then up the stairs.
Ring, ring.
If I don’t answer it, who will? I’m the only adult home, so…
I tentatively pick up the phone. “Hello.” I frown.
“Hello, Miss Brielle.” The voice is stern and commanding, and I feel my stomach flutter.
It’s him.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Masters.”
“Is everything all right?” he asks. “I’ve been emailing you, but you haven’t responded.”
Emailing me?
I shrug, because I really don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. ” Of course, everything is fine.”
“Are the children dressed? Have they had breakfast?”
I frown harder. “Erm…”
“If you’re having any problems, you do have all of the information on the list on the fridge.”
Oh shit, there is a list. I remember now. I walk over and take the piece of paper from the fridge.
6:30 a. m. Wake children and prepare their breakfast.
My eyes widen and I glance at my watch. It’s now 7:25 a. m.
Shit.
“The children are upstairs.” Which is not technically a lie because they are upstairs.
“You have to leave in ten minutes or they’ll be late,” he says.
“Late?”
“Yes, late. Willow starts school at 8:00 a. m., and it’s a half hour drive from our house.”
My eyebrows rise. Oh crap. “Of course, Mr. Masters. I have to go now, though, so we can leave in time.”
“Janelle will be there at 9:00 a. m.” He says it casually, like I should already know all about this.
“Janelle?” My eyes widen. Who the hell is Janelle?
Honestly, did I listen to anything that came out of that perfect mouth of his last night?
“She’s the cleaner and our cook. She cleans the house today and normally arrives around 4:00 p. m. each day to prepare the night’s meal.”
“Yes, okay,” I snap, because I really need to get off the phone and wake these children up as a matter of urgency. “I’ll see you tonight then?” I ask.
He pauses on the other end of the line. “You sound in a rush to get off the phone. Talk to me for a moment. It sounds like you have everything under control.”
Jesus Christ, I don’t have time for this shit. “Definitely in full control, just not a big phone talker,” I add.
“I see.” He pauses, and I can almost hear him smirking on the other end of the phone. “Don’t forget our meeting tonight, either.”
“Julian, I really need to go.
“Goodbye, Miss Brielle. Stay out of trouble.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, I will. Goodbye.” I hang up and run to the stairs, taking them two at a time. Fucking hell. Willow is likely to give me a black eye when I wake her up this late.
The list. Why didn’t I remember the list? It seems like a lifetime ago that he told me about it. So much has happened since then. What with all the wanking and sniffing aftershave we’ve both been doing.
I get to the top of the stairs and run down to Samuel’s room.
I open the door to see that he’s still sleeping soundly.
“Sam,” I whisper. “Sam, wake up, baby.” I rub his little head and he frowns with his eyes still closed. “Sammy, wake up. We’re running a little late this morning.” He rolls on his side to face me. His hair is tousled and his face is so sleepy. He is the epitome of cute, and I can’t help but smile down at him. “I love your pyjamas. I wish I had some like that.”
He rubs his eyes. “You have to get them from Grandma, these are my birthday pyjamas.”
“Oh, I see.” I grin. “Go to the bathroom and wash your face. Do I need to help you dress?” I ask. He puts his little arms up for a cuddle, and I feel myself melt. I hold him for a second.
“No.” He hops out of bed. “I can do it myself. I’m big, you know?”
“Okay, good. I’ll go and wake up Willow while you wash.” I leave him to go to the bathroom, and I make my way down to Willow’s room, where I tentatively open the door. She’s lying in her bed with her back to me. “Willow, you need to wake up. We’re running late.”