CEO's Secret Baby: A Single Dad & Nanny Romance

by Natasha L. Black

  Successful.

  Devoted father.

  Divorced.

  Immune to the charms of women.

  That’s what my resume would say at this point. It didn’t bear thinking of what hers might say. Because I would never risk getting involved again. It wasn’t worth the cost. I’d learned that the hard way.

  3

  Jessica

  It was exciting. I couldn’t help the happy, bubbly feeling I got when I thought about getting to be David’s nanny for a few weeks. He was such a smart, serious kid. I adored him, and thought it might be a good idea for him to have some fun. I stocked up on craft and cooking with kids books from the library, some art stuff from the discount store, and planned out a few activities to do with him. I couldn’t wait.

  William’s assistant had called to tell me I’d passed the background check and my references were all in order, so I could start the next morning. She’d had me stop by a huge office building to pick up a packet. After signing a non-disclosure agreement, I’d flipped through the packet. Information about David—likes, dislikes, penicillin allergy, interests and fears, names of teachers, pediatrician, drivers who were authorized to transport us, and a list of phone numbers I could call for anything I needed. A credit card in my name for ‘expenses related to child care’ such as admission tickets, snacks, project supplies, basically anything that David or I wanted for the next couple of weeks. It was wild. Non-disclosure? Like I was going to call up CNN and offer an expose interview about my temporary employer, some businessman who had tons of money and some kind of bad OCD about details?

  Tara had crowed with delight when I told her I was going to work for William for a while. “It’s just to help him out!” I insisted.

  “Yeah, wear your black skinny jeans, borrow my boots, and leave your hair down. Pretty soon bae won’t be all business.”

  “I cannot think of anyone less likely to be called bae in the universe,” I laughed.

  “What are you going to wear?”

  “Jeans. What I always wear to babysit,” I shrugged.

  “Think again. I’m talking jeans in the Instagram influencer way. Skinnies with tall boots, a form fitting shirt with a cute scarf. Beachy wave hair, natural-but-elevated makeup…”

  “That is very specific,” I giggled, “and way more trouble than I’m going to. I’m there to play with the kid, not try to land a millionaire.”

  “Uh, add some zeroes. Billionaire. I Googled him. Turns out, he bought the patent for some kind of mega-fabulous medical tech when he was in college, used his entire trust fund. Made a killing, launched his own company by the time he was twenty-three. He’s been on the cover of—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I got it. He’s stupid rich. I don’t need to know his resume. I’m only interested in helping David through this transition until they get a regular nanny lined up.”

  “What if you were the regular nanny? Not that I wouldn’t miss you around here, but forty bucks an hour?”

  “Yeah, it’s going to build up my restaurant fund a lot faster than extra shifts around here,” I admitted, “but I’m a little nervous. I mean, the dad won’t be around when I’m working. That’s why I’m working for him, so he can be gone. But I’ve had that awkward crush on him for a while. I’m just afraid I’ll say something dumb like—you are the hottest man ever to order French toast in Retro Red’s.”

  “Too adolescent. How about telling him you’ve touched yourself—”

  “EEEEH!” I made a loud buzzer sound, “don’t finish that sentence. I will never be saying that word or anything like it to him. Or anyone else.”

  “Girl, everyone does it.”

  “Fine, but you don’t have to get all graphic about it.”

  “Because you’re a delicate flower?”

  “Yes. Exactly,” I said with a laugh. “I gotta get going.”

  I was at the fabulous house at six-twenty the next morning. Inside, the housekeeper showed me around. It was a gorgeous mansion, gated and secure. The lofty brick structure gave the impression of solid permanence, and it was warm and cozy indoors despite the vaulted ceilings. The vast expanses of sophisticated gray walls were decorated not with original Picassos or Monets, but with lighted canvases in black and white, photos of David from his days as a chubby, drooly baby to more recent shots of father and son out by a lake in warmer months. Every picture spoke of William’s love for his son, of the fact that he wanted to be surrounded by the face of his growing boy more than he wanted decorator approved artwork or rare masterpieces. I couldn’t help being touched by his devotion.

  The housekeeper was kind and showed me where to stow my tote bag and purse and told me a little about the morning routine. David was to be awakened at 6:45, use the bathroom, wash his face, and eat breakfast. After breakfast, he needed to dress in his uniform, brush his teeth and his hair, and get his lunch and his backpack in time to leave at 7:30 when the driver arrived. It seemed pretty standard, except for the fact there was a chauffeured car involved.

  “He can be a bit of a grump in the morning, so if you need a hand, let me know,” she said kindly.

  Mrs. Henderson, the housekeeper, showed me to David’s room and opened the door. A moon-and-star night light gleamed in the dim room, and the little boy slept sprawled on top of his blankets, one bare foot hanging off the bed. From what I could tell, it was pretty much a kid’s dream room and at least as big as a studio apartment. A big train table stood in one corner, and there were bookshelves full of bright kid’s books and block structures on either side of the cozy window seat that was piled with an assortment of stuffed dinosaur toys.

  “Good morning, David,” I said softly, “it’s me, Jess. I came to get you ready for school. “

  A mumble and a groan came from the bed, and he didn’t move a muscle. I had to give the kid credit. He could resist waking up better than most teenagers.

  “Come on, buddy,” I said.

  “Nooooo,” he whined.

  “Do you want a piggyback ride?”

  He sprang up and jumped up and down on the bed, “Piggyback!” he crowed, clapping his hands. That was easy enough. He just wanted to have some fun.

  He clasped his arms around my neck just short of a throttling chokehold and bounced gleefully as I trotted him into the bathroom, my hands hooked under his knees. He giggled as I went out and shut the door, “Remember, go potty and wash your hands and face,” I said.

  I made the bed, then knocked on the bathroom door where water was running.

  “Come in!” he said.

  When I opened the door, I saw that he was clapping his hands under the running water to make it splatter.

  “It looks like snowflakes on the mirror,” he said.

  “Yes, it does. But I don’t think I’d be happy if I had to clean that mirror after you splashed. Grab the towel and let’s wipe it off.”

  After I mopped up the water mess, he ate breakfast and I got him dressed. As I was straightening his sock, I heard footsteps. Looking up, I saw William. I’d seen William hundreds of times. Sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, kicking back for a meal with his son. I hadn’t seen him in his own environment, wearing a sleek tailored business suit, surrounded by the finery of his mansion and looking head to toe perfection while I squatted down in jeans to fix a sock.

  “Good morning,” he said stiffly, “I trust all is going to plan.”

  “Yes,” I said, standing up, “David’s all ready. Teeth brushed and ready to roll.”

  I expected a curt nod, or for him to pat the boy on the head in a distant, fifties TV-dad way, but instead, he held out his arms and David jumped up into them. They hugged like they hadn’t seen each other in weeks, William growling and David giggling as they did some silly morning goodbye routine where it seemed like they were pretending to be bears. I wanted to beam at them, but instead I double checked the zipper on David’s lunchbox and tried to be unobtrusive. It was a sweet, private moment between them. It made me so happy that David was obviously cherish
ed and snuggled every day and that they could be playful and silly together. Something like longing filled up my chest and I had to swallow hard.

  I rode with David to school, met his teacher, and reminded her that he was riding the bus home today, but beginning tomorrow the driver and I would pick him up. Then I ran some errands with the driver at my disposal, paid some bills, and had plenty of time to search out a recipe for steamed meringues I wanted to try for an upcoming holiday lunch I was catering. Catering was fun, but really it wasn’t much money. It was just to give myself a taste of life as a chef and a future restaurateur. But I always looked forward to it.

  I checked out his bookshelves, his toy box and playroom to get a handle on his major interests. He was really into dinosaurs and wild animals, liked rhyming books and animal books, and liked to draw but not color. Not that you could tell what he was drawing a picture of because he was five, but he labeled them with what they were supposed to be, and his spelling was impressive. Knowing he loved word games, I had a beginner word search book ready for us to race with and made a note to see if they library had Bananagrams.

  When he got home, he had his graham crackers and apple slices and changed into play clothes. Then we played dinosaurs while he told me facts about them. We were doing a guided drawing of a simple, happy brontosaurus at the kitchen table when William walked in.

  “Apatosaurus,” David corrected, “They’re not called brontosauri any longer.”

  “Got it,” I said, “Apatosaurus.”

  William dropped a kiss on David’s head, “How was your day?”

  “Good. Jess doesn’t know much about dinosaurs, but I’m teaching her,” he said.

  “That’s very generous of you,” William said with a smirk.

  “I’m here till six-thirty if there’s anything you need to do,” I offered, looking down at my drawing and appearing to concentrate on it so I didn’t have to meet his gaze.

  “No, don’t go yet! We’re not done drawing,” David protested. “Jess, stay for dinner! Thursdays is spaghetti, and it’s really good. You can pick out the onions, Daddy doesn’t get mad about it.”

  I grinned, ready to accept the funny invitation, but William cut in.

  “We’ve taken up enough of Jessica’s time. I trust you’ve made a good beginning, and we’ll see you tomorrow promptly at six-thirty.”

  He had effectively dismissed me. It was like a splash of cold water on the warm, homey feeling I’d had with David only minutes before. I cleared my throat.

  “Sure. See you tomorrow, buddy,” I said to David and pushed back my chair.

  I gathered my stuff and slipped on my shoes. Once I was in the car being driven back to my apartment, I admitted to myself that I’d wanted to stay. I’d wanted to talk more about dinosaurs and onions with David, had wanted to look across the table at William, at his handsome face. I had wanted to be a part of that on the fringes for just one meal. Maybe I was lonely after all.

  4

  William

  The new nanny had worked for me for only two days when I raised her wages. I had taken David to the diner for dinner. He had been surprised when Jess wasn’t at her regular shift taking care of our table. He asked the server where she was.

  “Jess had to shuffle her hours. She has another job somewhere else too now,” the woman said.

  I frowned. She was supposed to be filling in three days a week while the agency scrambled to find a full-time nanny that would fill the position. She was paid well to work for me. But it needled me that she’d given up a shift to accommodate my schedule. It was too much like she was doing a favor for us. I didn’t like the itch of obligation I felt over that.

  While David and I played tic-tac-toe on the paper placemat, I couldn’t shake the discomfort I felt about her reduced hours at the diner. By the time David’s pancakes arrived, he was grouchy. He had told me about a thousand stories about fun things Jess did with him, how he wanted to quit school and just stay home with Jess because he already knew how to read anyway, and how she was ‘a fast learner’ when it came to dinosaurs. He was crabby and hungry. I was pissed off because I felt like she was doing me some big favor watching my kid when she should’ve been at her regular job, and also because I was getting a little sick of hearing about how wonderful she was from my son. I wanted him to bond with his caregiver, but not a temporary one, I reasoned. It might make him feel abandoned when she left. But really, I felt a pang of jealousy. I had always been the person he longed to spend more time with, the one he begged to stay home from work so we could play together. So the fact he obviously missed his new nanny so much didn’t set well with me.

  I picked at my omelet, reminiscing about our tradition of breakfast for dinner twice a week and how there was a time when David was three that he would only eat breakfast foods. So this had started from necessity, and had become a ritual I looked forward to, catching up with him, playing tic tac toe or rock-paper-scissors while we waited for the food. It was almost like he’d grown suddenly before my eyes, the way he looked at me and said, “I think it hurt Jess’s feelings when you didn’t let her stay for supper.”

  I shook my head, startled at his intuition for his age. “She works certain hours for us. We can’t take advantage of that and expect her to do whatever you want her to.”

  “She’s my friend,” he said stubbornly.

  “No, she’s your nanny for now. She works for me, helping to take care of you. Of course, you have fun together. But she’s like your teacher at school—“

  “Mrs. Reeves has a mustache,” he protested. I choked down a laugh.

  “Not exactly like her, then, but she’s another nice person whose job it is to help teach and guide children. She isn’t family.”

  “You said Martha was family.”

  “I said she was like family. She was with you for years.”

  “So why don’t you be nice to Jess too?”

  “I am nice to Jess. It’s just that she’s only going to be helping us for a bit.”

  “But I really, really like her, Dad,” he said. I shifted in my seat.

  “Fine, I’ll call her,” I said, grouchy.

  “Hello? Is David okay?” she said, surprising me with her immediate concern.

  “He’s fine. Eating his pancakes.”

  “Oh, tell him I’m sorry I missed him! I just had to change my schedule to—”

  “To accommodate us, I know. Listen, we both talked that this would be temporary so there’s no need for you to cut hours here at the diner. But I’m willing to give you more money if helping me out is costing you work.”

  “I wouldn’t say this job is costing me work. It’s building up my savings,” she said, “But mainly I love getting to spend the day with David. Tell him I’ll see him in the morning, okay?”

  “I will.”

  When she hung up, David crossed his arms and pouted, “I wanted to talk to her.”

  “You’ll see her tomorrow. Like—twelve hours from now. Eat up. We’ve got to get you a bath when we get home.”

  “I didn’t play outside because of the cold wind. I don’t need a bath. I’m not dirty.”

  “You need a bath.”

  “No.”

  “David, no arguing. You know better.”

  “But Daaaaaad, I’m not even sweaty.”

  “You take a bath every day. It’s to keep you healthy.”

  I paid the bill and marched him out to the car. His arms were crossed and he was pouting. When he asked if he could play on my phone, I said no because of his attitude. Even though the ride home would’ve been much more pleasant if I’d let him have his way. I was trying to teach him to be a more considerate and respectful person, and that meant a lot of uncomfortable moments for both of us. Moments when it would have been easy and convenient to give in just to get fifteen minutes of peace after a long day at work. But I was his father, not his friend, and I had an obligation to teach him right from wrong.

  The next day, David was all sunshine when he woke
up early, knowing that Jess was coming. He hopped out of bed early, before she even arrived, and insisted on brushing his hair and teeth so he’d look nice when she got there. I tried not to roll my eyes. She’d been his nanny less than a week, and he was so thrilled to see her. Watching him wet his comb and slick his hair down, the back still messy and sticking up from sleep, was sweet and funny.

  When she walked in, fumbling her purse and tote bag as she took off her shoes, I felt my entire body stand at attention, the tightening in my groin, that stubborn stiffening. I went to her and took her bag while she removed her boots. They were tall boots that zipped up the side. The sound of that zipper sliding down made my cock go harder in response. I cleared my throat.

  “David’s already up and excited to see you. The cook has pancakes and fruit ready in the kitchen.”

  “Thanks,” she said. Then she gave me a dazzling smile. “I think I might just move in if I’m going to get that kind of breakfast treatment.”

  I stared at her for a minute. She was teasing me and it made me want to kiss her long and deep. It had been ages since a woman was playful and sassy with me. My whole body burned with longing for her. I took a step back and handed off the bag.

  “Yes, well, help yourself,” I said as stiffly as if I’d been caught with my dad’s Playboy.

  David rushed to her. She dropped to her knees and caught him as he flung himself into her arms like she’d been away at war. I was glad he had an affectionate heart, that he was so secure in my love and protection that he trusted and cared for others. It was what I wanted for him—not a broken, frozen heart like mine. He would be whole and happy if I had to move heaven and hell.

  I kissed his head and left for work. Honestly, my thoughts kept drifting to Jessica with her jeans and tall boots, with her gorgeous smile and her teasing, saucy look. Even when I was briefing the board of directors on our latest product launch, my mind wandered to the way she had looked up at me, lips slightly parted, a secretive smile on her face. I pushed those thoughts away. Despite having a very productive day at work, the distraction tingled along my skin, and I found myself rushing home from the office.