The Billionaire's Nanny: A BWWM Romantic Comedy by Mia Caldwell Page B

me, though, against “getting too serious” if she thought I sounded too smitten with some boy or another. “You can find you another one once you get where you’re going,” she’d say. Needless to say, I didn’t get my love of romance novels from her.
    "No, it was fine, the right way. We were holding hands and walking and talking. And I wanted him to kiss me, I did. I kissed him back. At first."
    “Then what happened?”
    “I’m not even sure. It’s like, all at once, I thought ‘I don’t know him, I don’t know if this is really what I want or if it’s just what I’d decided I wanted,’ you know?”
    She paused, then said, “No, I’m afraid I don’t, not really. You say you don’t know him. That is true. How well have you known other boys the first time you kissed them?”
    “Not very well, usually.”
    "Did you wake up some poor old woman, crying like you’d lost your puppy after those kisses?"
    I laugh. “No.”
    “So what is different this time?”
    “I’m not sure. This feels…complicated. I mean, I work for him, for starters.”
    “If you didn’t work for him, if he found the replacement nanny right now, would you feel differently?”
    “Probably not. I guess it’s…something about him feels strange, hidden. Like he’s got this big secret.”
    She makes a tsking noise and I can just see her shaking her head, eyes closed. “Girl, you love that stuff, don’t you? Too many damned books. Men with secrets are trouble. You make him tell you those secrets before this goes any further. What, do you think he’s in illegal activities?”
    “No, no, nothing like that. It’s kind of how he is with Maeve. Weirdly disconnected. I mean, it’s not like I expect him to wear the baby strapped to his back all day or to try to lactate so he can breastfeed her…”
    “Oh, good lord child! I should hope not!”
    I chuckle at her discomfort. Probably because I said “breast.” "But I do feel like he should be spending more time with her. I mean, I get outsourcing diaper changes and the day-to-day child-minding stuff. He has a job, after all. But why miss out on the fun stuff, too?"
    “What does he say when you ask him?”
    “Well, I haven’t. I mean, it feels like it’s none of my business as a nanny. But if it’s going to be more…”
    “Ask him, girl. Stop hoping he’ll see how you’re mooning around with your head in the clouds and ask you what’s wrong. Don’t think he’s going to change just because you wish for it really hard. Either you get answers or this doesn’t go anywhere.”
    See? So no nonsense. “You’re right. I don’t know if I can, but you’re right.”
    “Of course you can. You moved out to California for college, all on your own. You moved to that little town to teach kids that barely speak English. You’re holding down jobs left and right. You can ask a rich boy why he doesn’t play with his baby. That’s easy. Now, unless there’s some other thing I can fix for you, I’m going back to sleep. I need beauty rest at my age.”
    “Okay Grandma, thanks. Sorry I woke you, but thanks for talking me down. I love you.”
    “I love you, baby girl. Now go to sleep yourself.” The phone clicked from her end as she set down the heavy receiver on the old push button phone she insisted on keeping.
    Right. Just ask him. Sure. How hard can it be?
    It’s well past midnight before I finally fall asleep. Asia never switched her phone over, so I couldn’t even get back-up advice. I think about texting a couple of the other teachers that I’m friends with, but realize that would be weird. We’ve barely spoken all summer, an eleven p.m. plea for advice would be awkward.
    I wake with a start to the sound of Maeve babbling to herself in her crib. It takes me a moment to figure out where I am: right, guest room next to the nursery. Monitor beside my bed. Where I put it after fleeing Corbin’s kiss. Shiiiiiit . How am I supposed to walk around out there?