The Nanny: A Single Dad Romance

by Aria Ford

  “You may call me Arran,” he said.

  This time she cocked her head and repeated his name. “Arran… that’s different, but then I suppose where you come from all names are going to differ from those here in America. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Arran, and I’ll be sending you the money I owe you as I can,” she told him. Her tray of drinks ready, she carefully pulled them onto her raised hand and walked toward the table.

  Arran watched her and saw that she was, despite the earlier accident, quite a graceful woman. Those well-proportioned hips swayed between the tables with rhythm and she spun about as if on ballerina slippers to deliver the glasses. She could have been a dancer, the way she walked. He finished his glass and left the bar, taking the elevator to the top floor and his room. This was his base of business when he was in town. Over four thousand feet in size, it slept five guests in king-sized beds and had five and a half baths.

  He was greeted by his own butler in the mosaic tiled hall with its glass chandelier and water fountain. Arran decided to adjourn to the spa bath and experience a rainforest Swiss team shower in one of the Italian marble bathrooms. Water was a valued commodity in his home country; perhaps that why the Bellagio held such attraction for him.

  Putting on one of the provided robes, he settled in the solarium with additional water features and thought about the young woman downstairs. He had been intrigued by her,; attracted to her unusual coloring and her earthy, yet elegant sense of style. Her coloring would be unheard of in his country; a land of vivid colors and outrageous wealth. She was subtle and classic in a sophisticated way. He longed to put expensive dresses on her and have her upon his arm.

  He put his thoughts aside for the time being, h. He was here on business and had no time for chasing women. Even so…

  Chapter Two

  Gabrielle was an orphan and had been on her own since she escaped the last foster home at seventeen. Eye-catching in appearance, she’d had to fend off more than one undesired male, including the very male in the household who was supposed to be protecting her.

  She was street smart and highly intelligent, so she learned quickly. She had managed to support herself, picking up odd jobs and getting her GED. She paid her way through college, working as a waitress in the evenings. She excelled at everything she took on and her driving goal was to be independent. She never wanted to be a part of the system again; not in any sense or at any time.

  Las Vegas had called to the girl from small town Iowa. The weather was an improvement, but the plentiful amount of jobs for a girl who looked like her was even more inviting. The biggest draw, however, were the people who she could meet. She was going to maximize her potential and then look for the contacts that could give her the kind of exciting life she really wanted. She made up her mind she would not fall for the first good-looking guy who promised her a white picket fence. She wanted to earn things her own way; she didn’t want anything given to her. When you accepted gifts, you had to deal with the strings that were attached. That wasn’t for her.

  After a series of small part-time gigs, she’d gotten her foot in at the Bellagio. She had her master’s degree in business management and the Bellagio would be the perfect place to plant it. She knew she could use a bit more of the sophisticated polish they would want, but she was here to learn.

  The accident with the tray had been the result of seeing someone come into the bar that looked very much like one of her foster fathers, Carl Smithers. Oddly, he had only been a few years older than her. His wife was eleven years older than him and they had taken in foster children for the extra money. Gabrielle was a looker, in his opinion, and he’d tried to crawl into her narrow, lumpy bed one night when his wife was passed out from cheap gin. Gabrielle had screamed and that had started the other kids screaming. He scrambled out but his wife had finally realized what was going on and thrown him out of the house. She didn’t care if he slept with others; she just didn’t want to risk losing the foster income. As he packed his suitcase, he threatened Gabrielle that he’d track her down and have her when she was “legal.” He walked with a crooked leg and had pock-marked cheeks. Dropping the tray had created a diversion and she’d never gotten a chance to verify whether it was Carl, or not. She would be careful from now on, sticking a small knife in a pocket she’d sewn into her bra.

  Gabrielle was rather grateful to the dark-eyed sheikh who had put in a good word for her. She was mad at herself for having made such a mess of things. That little incident could have put an end to her dreams. Once you got fired from one hotel, you would have tremendous difficulty finding a position at another. It had been a close call and she wouldn’t repeat it.

  ***

  Arran made his phone calls as soon as he arose the next morning. The businessmen were to be meeting in his suite. It provided a casual, and yet appropriate atmosphere, and his guests could spend some time in the casino afterwards. He knew his guests would be more amenable to his demands if they were thinking ahead to the winnings they would enjoy downstairs. He’d taken a swim in the pool and exercised for an hour before lunch. Dressed in business casual, he decided to grab lunch downstairs and headed directly to the Russian Bar in search of his green-eyed enigma named Gabrielle.

  Sure enough, she was working. He took the same seat at the bar as he had the previous evening and waited for her to notice. She eventually did and simply nodded, but did not come any closer. Arran suspected that she was avoiding him because she couldn’t repay the cost of the ruined gown. He had checked with the front desk and the replacement had cost $2,500, which was less than he’d expected. It was still a great deal of money for a waitress, though, and he needed to figure out some way to get the money to her and still preserve her pride.

  Arran walked out to the gambling floor and purchased two $2,500 chips. Pocketing these, he went back into the bar and when Gabrielle’s back was turned, he motioned to the bartender, Ben, that he wanted to speak with him. He explained briefly that Ben could earn one of the $2,500 chips as a personal tip if he saw to it that Gabrielle received the other, anonymously. Ben was to tell her it had been a tip from one of her customers and so far, Arran had not been one, so she wouldn’t suspect him. He warned the bartender that he had a way of checking and from the look on his face, Ben believed him.

  Arran left then and went back to his suite to welcome the first of his business associates. Later that afternoon, Ben called Gabrielle over and gave her a glass cup with coins, a few bills and the chip. “Your tips,” he said vaguely. She noted the chip and her brows went up.

  “Hey, you got a nice ass,” he commented with a grin and Gabrielle stiffened, but said nothing. She’d taken the tips, dumped them into her apron pocket and went about her business as if it were an every-day occurrence. Inside, however, she was shaking. Who would have given me a tip like that? she tried to reason. Carl couldn’t have scraped up that kind of money in a year. It must have been someone who won big and was too drunk to cash out his chips, she told herself. At least this would put her even with that sheikh whatever his name was. She didn’t like owing anyone.

  When Arran had concluded that days’ meetings, he adjourned to the solarium to relax. The butler brought him an envelope. “This came for you, sir, while you were in meetings.”

  Arran opened the envelope and smiled. There was two thousand dollars in crisp twenties and a note that read, “Paid in Full – GS.”

  He tossed the envelope on the table next to him and made a call. When he hung up, he had all the information the hotel had available on Ms. Gabrielle Standish. With one additional call, he would have a dossier within 48 hours for whatever the hotel didn’t know.

  That evening he didn’t enter the bar. Instead he went down the street and entered some very exclusive, expensive shops. Some of his favorites were Coach, Christian Louboutin, Charlotte Olympia and Burberry. He stopped by Fendi, Giorgio Armani, Kate Spade, Mulberry, Versace and of course, Cartier. In each shop he requested their on-staff designer and showed them a picture of Gab
rielle he’d surreptitiously captured with his cell phone. It showed her general size, assets, and of course, her unique coloring. He had everything he’d ordered delivered to one of the suites on the same floor where he was staying, and had that room put on reservation for the next two weeks. He was baiting his line, and Ms. Standish would be worth every penny.

  Chapter Three

  Arran performed his morning routine and made a few business phone calls. He knew his game was off, however, and realized there was a certain silver-haired blonde responsible. This was completely out of character for him. He’d have to resolve this before it interfered with his family’s investments; that simply could not happen.

  Late that afternoon, he dressed very casually and went down to the bar. There were only a few guests there that time of the day. He feigned interest in a soccer game that was playing on the massive flat screen behind the bar.

  Soundlessly, the doors from the kitchen parted and his vigilant eye picked up on Gabrielle’s entrance. She was carrying a shallow tray stocked with olives, lemons, limes, and other drink garnishes. The bar was obviously preparing for the night crowd to begin descending. Although the casino never closed, guests naturally followed their internal clocks and slept in late, hung out at the pool, and then filtered to the casino, shows, and bar in the evenings.

  Gabrielle’s back was to him and as she slowly filled the various stations with her condiments, she kept her attention to what she was doing and didn’t look up. When she finally came close to him, Arran spoke up.

  “I received your envelope, although it wasn’t necessary,” he began what he hoped would be a longer conversation.

  Her head snapped up and she smiled. “I appreciate what you did for me. I know it was only due to you that I kept my job. Let’s just say a certain windfall came my way and naturally, I wanted to settle my debt.”

  “You are most gracious,” he said and meant every word.

  “Just the way I learned to do things. You never leave a debt unsettled.” She was arranging the glasses and he thought he could detect that she might be dawdling, just the slightest bit.

  “Gabrielle, I was wondering whether I might ask your guidance in something?” he leaned toward her.

  “What’s that?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

  “I find that my business may require that I spend more time here in Las Vegas. While the hotel is fine for short stays, I thought I might purchase a more permanent abode.” He looked for signs of emotion to cross her face, but her expression remained impassive.

  “Okay, are you looking for a house or a condo?” she asked.

  “Oh, definitely a house,” he hastened to clarify. “I require a good deal of space and, of course, security. This would not be possible under a joint ownership.”

  “That makes sense,” she answered, done with her chore and now standing with one hand on her curvaceous hip. Her face held a contemplative frown. “I have to admit that I’ve not lived here that long and don’t really have any recommendations. However, you could ask the concierge for a realtor referral.”

  “I was hoping for somewhat of a more personal arrangement,” he began.

  Her face was instantly suspicious. “No, I think you have me all wrong. I know some of the girls here are, well… offer escort service, but that’s not me.” She began to back away.

  Arran’s hand reached out involuntarily, as if to hold her in check. “I beg your pardon. I did not mean to suggest that you were anything at all of that nature.” He breathed more gently when she stopped again. Intentionally, he lowered his voice now so she would have to come closer to hear. “I was looking to hire a personal assistant; someone who would select a location for me and oversee the necessary details of preparing it. I prefer a female because she may also serve as my companion at these business dinners – completely proper, I assure you. After our recent, well… transaction, shall we call it, I know you are a woman of great character and integrity. Therefore, I am extending an invitation to you to accept the position with a starting salary of, shall we say, two hundred and fifty thousand. Of course, I will provide transportation, wardrobe, etc. suitable for the requirements.”

  Gabrielle’s head was cocked. “Why me? I don’t have the credentials for that kind of job,” she asked suspiciously.

  Arran had anticipated this, though. “As I said, you proved your integrity. I require the utmost loyalty and confidentiality. This…” he swept his hand toward the gaming floor, “is hardly the place where those are easy to find.”

  Gabrielle had to admit that he had a point. It felt too opportunistic, though, and her inner voice was telling her to go in the other direction. “I don’t think so, but I appreciate your asking.”

  There was disappointment on his face but she wasn’t sure what motivated it. It didn’t matter. She had seen enough of these dark-skinned foreign zillionaires to know that they valued women lowly and had private jets at their disposal for get-aways. Although the money and benefits were unbelievable, she knew better. If it seemed too good to be true, it was.

  “I am most disappointed,” he said. “You realize that in my country, women would kill to have that position?”

  Gabrielle couldn’t help herself. “Perhaps that’s where you should look, then,” she returned saucily and headed back to the kitchen.

  She busied herself there as long as she could. Eventually, Ben stuck his head through the door and called out, “We got tables out here.” She had no choice; her job was tenuous as it was. She needed to get out onto the floor and do what she was being paid to do.

  She peeked through the doors and saw the sheikh was still in his seat, watching the television overhead. Doesn’t he have better things to do? she thought to herself. With a deep breath, she pushed through the doors and headed toward her tables.

  The first table had a couple, both of whom looked very uncomfortable. The man was pleasant looking and in a suit while the woman kept swallowing and tapping her nails on the table. Honeymooners, Gabrielle thought to herself. He ordered a scotch and she a vodka collins. Just like I thought, she thought.

  The next table was ringed with men. By the look of their clothes, she assumed they were businessmen, in town for a convention. Lots of these guys stayed at the cheaper motels on the edge of town but came in to the Bellagio for what it had to offer. They always looked out of place and played conservatively. They also always left dead broke.

  The next table held a single man and as Gabrielle approached him, his back was to her. She moved to his side and laid down a cocktail napkin before him. “What can I bring you?” she asked.

  “Hello, Gabrielle. I told you we’d meet again,” came the voice, and Gabrielle’s head jerked up as she saw who it was. Her worst fears were confirmed as she looked at the face of Carl Smithers.

  “Get out of here!” she spat automatically in a hard whisper. Her hands began to shake and the nightmares from the past began to filter into her current reality.

  “Oh, now that’s not too nice,” Carl grinned, his teeth were yellow and one was broken off.

  “I said get out. I’ll… I’ll… call security!” she tried desperately.

  “And what will you tell them?” he mewled in a cajoling tone. It was the same tone he’d used in trying to get her to slide her panties off. “You going to say your daddy is here?”

  Gabrielle thought she would faint. She spun about without answering and headed back to the bar. Ben noticed her hands and looked to her for an explanation. “You okay?”

  “The man at table eleven has had too much to drink. Cut him off!” she spat in a desperate voice.

  Ben looked at the man and back at her. She was visibly shaken. “Consider him cut off,” he agreed without argument.

  Gabrielle heaved a sigh of relief, picked up the tray with the drinks for the first two tables, and went off to deliver them. She thought she had pulled that off rather neatly. Carl would hang for a few minutes and once he noticed he wasn’t going to be served, he should leave. Or so
she hoped.

  None of this went undetected, however. A pair of dark brown eyes and raised black eyebrows had watched her carefully. Whether she liked it or not, he had already come to think of her as his own property. He was a man who looked out for his property. He glanced momentarily at Alahan who nodded very slightly. He would see to it Gabrielle wasn’t bothered again – at least not tonight.

  Gabrielle continued to quiver with fear and the realization that she was no longer in hiding. Where can I go? she thought. She finished delivering the drinks and headed back to the bar. This time, however, she walked straight up to Arran. “Is that offer still open?” she asked.

  “And of course,” he answered, trying to keep the satisfaction out of his voice.

  “When do I start?

  Chapter Four

  The elevator opened onto the floor with the Chairman’s Suite and Arran waved his hand for Gabrielle to exit. Alahan followed as he escorted her down the hallway to the suite he had reserved for her in advance.

  He unlocked the door and handed her the keycard. “After you,” he said.

  Gabrielle walked into the beautiful suite with its designer touches and felt completely out of her element. “You know, I could stay at the little apartment I rent in town,” she hurriedly said but Arran shook his head.

  “No, your hours will be irregular and sometimes long. It would be far more convenient for you to be close at hand,” he pointed out and Gabrielle nodded, although not without reservations.

  “Well, we can try it for the time being,” she allowed.

  “I think you will find everything you need in the bedroom closet. I’ll leave you for now to get settled in, but tomorrow morning I’d like you in my sitting room at nine so we can begin reviewing your duties and planning an agenda.” He bowed from the waist and left, Alahan striding behind him.

  “Oh, Sheik!” she called after him.