Winning The Nanny's Heart. Shirley Jump

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      When Sam went upstairs, Katie wandered into the living room. This space, too, looked like the aftermath of a tornado, complete with a second carpet of tiny little bricks. Now that it was just her and the two kids, she wasn’t quite sure what to do or how to engage them. She glanced at the television. Some cartoon sponge-shaped guy was running around in his underwear and letting out an annoying nasal laugh. “Hey, guys, what are you watching?”

      “SpongeBob,” Libby said. “He lives in the water. With Mr. Krabs. And Patrick.”

      “Sounds, uh...educational.” Whatever happened to Sesame Street? The Electric Company? Shows she remembered and understood.

      A commercial came on and Libby turned toward Katie. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

      “Uh...no.” She’d had a boyfriend. Who had dumped her the second he found out she was pregnant. She’d never in a million years thought nerdy Leonard Backstrom, another accountant at the firm, would be the one to break up first. He’d talked a lot about wanting to settle down, buying a house in an up-and-coming neighborhood, then starting joint retirement and 529 accounts. One stupid night when they both had too much to drink, and his tune had changed. He was, apparently, all talk and no real action. Last she heard, Leonard was dating Meredith the receptionist. He’d never even called Katie after she told him she was pregnant, as if he figured it was all her problem now.

      After Katie had accepted that she was pregnant, she’d begun to think of a future with a child. A future of just the two of them. Those thoughts had grown into dreams, a plan—

      Until she’d started cramping ten weeks later and lost everything.

      So yeah, that was the complicated answer to do you have a boyfriend? Probably best to keep it to uh...no.

      “My father says I can’t have a boyfriend until I’m thirty,” Libby said, and once again, Katie was struck by how mature she sounded. She sat down and Libby leaned closer. “Are you thirty?”

      Katie laughed. “Almost. I’m twenty-nine.”

      “My father is thirty-four.” Libby held up all her fingers, then flashed the digits three times. “That’s old.”

      “You won’t think so when you’re thirty-four.” Interacting with these kids wasn’t so hard. She could do this. And she and Libby seemed to get along okay. The tutor thing should work out perfectly. In and out, an hour at a time. No biggie.

      Libby considered that, then glanced over at Henry. “That’s my brother. He’s three.”

      Henry sat there, a blanket curled in one hand, just watching the exchange. He was a quiet kid. Probably easy to handle, Katie was sure. “He seems very nice.”

      Libby’s nose wrinkled. “He smells funny and he takes my toys and he makes a mess with his food.”

      Katie laughed. “My brother was like that. But you know, he grew up to be really cool. Henry probably will, too.”

      Libby’s nose wrinkled more. “My father makes me eat vegetables.”

      “Vegetables are good for you,” Katie said.

      “Are you gonna make me eat vegetables?”

      “I don’t think that’s in my job description.”

      “Good. Because I don’t wanna eat them,” Libby said.

      “Libby Bear, be nice to Katie. She’s only here to help you with your schoolwork. No broccoli involved.” Sam’s voice came from behind Katie. She turned in her seat and her pulse did a little skip.

      If she’d thought he looked handsome in a T-shirt and jeans, he was positively devastating in a suit and tie, with his hair still wet from the shower, smelling of fresh aftershave and soap. He was adjusting the cuffs on his white shirt, and for some reason, she thought that was one of the sexiest things she’d ever seen. Everything from the dark blue windowpane-pattern suit to the crimson tie at his neck and the black wingtip shoes gave him an air of power and manly confidence. Like a lion stepping onto the prairie and claiming his turf.

      “I don’t want to do schoolwork!” Libby sat back on the couch, crossed her arms over her chest and let out a huff. “You’re mean.”

      “Yup. I am.” He gave Katie a grin. “Still want the job?”

      A job that came with perks like seeing Sam in a suit? Sign her up. “Yes, yes. I... I do.”

      Good Lord, she was stammering. The confident partner at the accounting firm had been replaced by a hormone-crazed teenage girl. She got to her feet, smoothed her skirt and cleared her throat. “Perhaps it’s best if we went over any additional rules or expectations now.”

      He didn’t say anything for a second, then he seemed to refocus, and nodded. “Yes. Yes, you’re right.”

      She followed him out to the kitchen and they took the same seats as before. “So, do you have a list of things that Libby needs to work on?”

      “Her teacher said she needed help with times tables and three-digit addition and subtraction problems. The whole carrying the one thing, you know? Then there are word problems, which I swear were created to stump parents.” He laughed.

      “Lucy has seven cantaloupes and Dave has three apples, so what time will the train arrive at the station?” Katie asked.

      “Exactly.” He crossed to a pile of papers on the back kitchen counter and riffled through it. “Her teacher sent home a list that I’ve got here somewhere. My late wife was the planner and organizer. Since she’s been gone, I’ve just kind of...held on for dear life. I’m not very good at this whole juggling act.”

      “My childhood was like that. I guess it’s why I’m the opposite. I like everything to add up, and for all the columns to balance.”

      He pulled a sheet out of the pile, then handed it to Katie as he sat down again. “Well, one thing I’ve learned about having kids, no matter how organized and planned you make your days, you’re never going to get everything to add up perfectly. Kids...” His voice trailed off and his gaze drifted to the sofa, where Libby and Henry were laughing at the antics of the sponge and his starfish friend. “Kids change everything.”

      “Yes,” she said softly, and her hand strayed to her empty belly, “yes, they do.”

      He turned back and his gaze met hers, and held, for one long second. “Thank you.”

      The praise made her shift in her seat. “I haven’t even done my job yet. Why are you thanking me?”

      “Because...” Sam’s face clouded and his eyes filled, and his voice grew rough. “Because you got Henry to talk. I haven’t heard his voice in a long, long time.” Then, as if the emotion was too much, Sam got to his feet and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the middle of the table. He cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to the paper. “I’m going to write down my cell number. Call or text me if you have any problems. I’ll be back after the interview, and Charity will be here any second, so you should be fine. Libby has a folder of practice sheets in her backpack that her teacher needs her to work on. If you and Libby get along, and this works for you, we’ll talk about a schedule for the next week СКАЧАТЬ