The Billionaire's Nanny (The Stonecutters Billionaires Series)

by Aurora, Lexi

  “Mr. Evans?”

  “Rosie,” Tyler warned, forcing a smile into his voice despite the rapidly increasing pressure inside of his head and shoulders, “what did I say? We’re not strangers, right? You’ve been my secretary for a couple of years now, and if I can’t get you to call me by my first name, I think things might actually be hopeless.”

  “Right.” Rosie laughed, her nerves impossible to ignore even through the scratchiness of the intercom. “Sorry about that. Only, your father—”

  “Yes, I’m sorry. Just caught me a little off guard, that’s all. You can patch him through.”

  “But that’s just it, Tyler, I can’t patch him through.”

  “Any chance you feel like telling me why not, or are we exchanging riddles now and I just never got the memo?”

  “No,” Rosie answered softly, sounding almost as miserable as he felt, “no riddles. It’s—he’s here, sir. Your father is here. He hasn’t actually made it to the lobby yet, but one of the security men at the base of the building called up to let me know he’s in the elevator. I don’t know for sure, but my assumption is that he’s coming to see you.”

  “Christ.”

  “That was sort of my thought, too. What do you want me to do? I can try and tell him you’re in a meeting if you like, although I don’t know that he’ll listen to me.”

  “He won’t listen to you, and we both know it. He’ll blow right by you and probably say something shitty to you on his way. No, no need for that. No need to get yourself involved with Daddy-o any more than you absolutely have to. Just tell him to come straight back, and if he doesn’t ask for permission, give him a cheery little nod and be glad you didn’t have to talk to him. Sound all right to you?”

  “Yes, Tyler,” Rosie answered with a relief so palpable, Tyler couldn’t help but be jealous of how little interaction Rosie was going to get away with having with the formidable Mr. Charles Evans. “That sounds very good to me.”

  She was gone then, so that it was only Tyler in his swanky office, sitting miserably behind his desk and waiting for the inevitable ax to fall. Christ, but his dad was the last person on the planet he wanted to see right now. He loved his father all right, loved him the way a kid was supposed to love his folks, but it was a hell of a lot easier to love him when he wasn’t actually around. And it was so clear he wasn’t stopping by for a social call that it made Tyler’s steadily worsening headache almost funny. It was a tension headache, right? Get it? Good old Pops stops by, and there you go! A tension headache extraordinaire. The cure to Tyler’s headaches was no more visits from his dad, and any chance of that happening was now long gone. Tyler’s dalliance with Camilla had seen to that.

  “No need to tell him I’m coming back!” He heard the voice of Charles Evans coming toward him like a speeding bullet. “I’m coming for him one way or another, and unless he’s had a secret tunnel installed since the last time I was here, there’s nowhere for him to run.”

  There he is, Tyler thought to himself sourly, the man we’ve all come to know and love. And what do we think the odds are that he’s come to offer his wisdom in my time of need, friends and neighbors? What sort of odds do we think we’d get in Vegas for a thing like that?

  “Tyler! Tyler, if you’ve got anything to drink in this shitty office, now would be the time to break it out.”

  “Now, huh?” Tyler asked his dad wearily, making a point not to get up by way of respectful greeting despite the fact that all of his fancy prep-school upbringing had told him that getting up out of his chair was the polite and respectful thing to do. “You don’t think eleven o’clock in the morning is a little early for scotch?”

  “I would,” his father answered with the kind of disdain only a father could produce for a son, “if it weren’t for the reason that brought me here.”

  “Any chance you’re going to tell me what that reason is?”

  “You know what the reason is. You and that fucking Colombian wife of yours, soon to be ex -wife. You fucked up, kid, and I aim to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  Chapter Two

  “Keira! Hey, Keira, are you coming out with us or not?”

  “Um, I don’t know, actually. Maybe not.”

  "Um, what? What do you mean not? What the hell? I’m pretty sure this whole girls’-night-out thing was your idea, so I think I speak for Annika and me both when I say you better get your butt in the shower and get ready to go. You planned it, you have to come. That’s the rule.”

  Keira couldn’t help but smile despite the weird sort of vertigo the email she’d just opened up had given her. Christie was pretty much an awesome roommate, incredibly loud voice or not, and Keira was most definitely grateful to have her around. Annika had been friends with the both of them ever since their freshman year of college, which meant a little over eight years now. They were good friends, the best actually, which was why it was so important to Keira to make sure they kept hanging out whenever they got the chance. This girls’ night out had been her idea, and she had been looking forward to it, too, but the email she had just received changed just about everything.

  “Okay, girl, what’s going on? Why are you acting so weird?”

  “It looks like I just got a job, Christie, that’s why. And not a bullshit job, either.”

  “For real?” she asked excitedly, immediately getting on board with Keira’s own excitement, which was one of the things she totally loved about her. “What is it?”

  “It’s for the Evans Corporation. I sent my resume into them, like, six months ago, and never heard anything back.”

  “Well, then, they’re idiots,” Christie answered quickly, always ready to jump to her friends’ side at a moment’s notice. “So there you go.”

  “Right, except that now the Senior Mr. Evans wants to offer me a job.”

  “The senior?”

  “Right. From what I know about the company, it was founded by a man named Charles Evans. He had one son, who pretty much runs the company now. Truth be told, I didn’t even know the dad still had a part in it.”

  “But he’s the one who messaged you?”

  “Looks like. I’m not sure it really makes any sense, but that’s definitely what it looks like.”

  “So what’s the job?”

  “That’s the weirdest part,” Keira answered with a frown, reading over the shockingly short email for what had to be the fiftieth time in under ten minutes. “It doesn’t really say. I mean, it says I’m hired for something, it just doesn’t say what exactly that something is.”

  “Oh snap!” Christie shouted gleefully, starting to do an absurd little dance around Keira’s bedroom that she found more than a little bit annoying, “That sounds like the beginning of a porn or something!”

  "Quit it," Keira snapped, laughing but also hoping that her sometimes too-perceptive roommate wouldn’t notice her blushing. “The guy’s, like, in his sixties or something.”

  “Sure, the dad is, but what about the son?”

  “What about him?”

  “What is he like , Keira? Jeez, you need to start focusing here, honey.”

  “Come on, Christie! Who cares what he’s like? What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Please, don’t even start. Don’t even try to pretend like you aren’t curious. You may be Miss Serious when it comes to your career and everything, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t human. What’s the son’s name?”

  “Um, Tyler? I think. I’m not sure.”

  Keira was lying, and part of her was absolutely sure that Christie knew it. The two girls had known each other for a long time, long enough for her friend to have a good idea when she was fibbing. She knew exactly what the younger Evans man’s name was, knew for sure that his name was Tyler. She also happened to know that he was one of the most handsome men ever to walk the face of existence, like movie-star good-looking. He had thick black hair, something she could see had a natural curl to it and would probably be totally unruly without the aid
of whatever expensive products he used. His eyes were an icy blue, the color of the glaciers she’d seen pictures of on the cover of National Geographic , and had a certain intelligent curiosity that made her think he was a man who knew how to get himself into trouble. And therein lay the problem, she reminded herself, a grim, determined look gracing her otherwise pretty face. She’d seen enough about Tyler Evans on the cover of those stupid tabloid magazines to know that he was a selfish, self-involved man who couldn’t stop himself from getting into trouble even when it was clearly going to hurt him. He was the kind of guy she thought of as a silver-spoon kid, the kind of person who would never realize what truly hard work really was. He was the opposite of the kind of person she was, and extremely good-looking or not, his kind of man was one she just couldn’t make herself respect, which meant she would never be all of the way attracted to him. He was like a piece of art, something good to look at but without the depth Keira found truly appealing in a man. Besides, she scolded herself, her opinion on his looks didn’t mean anything at the end of the day. She wasn’t sure what his father had hired her for, but she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with swooning over his son. Whatever it was, she wasn’t about to let the man’s playboy son get in her way, nor let him slow her down. She had been waiting for the opportunity to work at a place as prestigious as the Evans Corporation since before she had even graduated from college, and there was nothing on God’s green earth that was going to get in her way.

  Chapter Three

  “He’s coming again, Tyler! Sorry to just break into whatever else it is you’re doing, but he’s coming again! I thought you might want to know!”

  “Christ. Thanks, Rosie, I appreciate it. We’ve got to look out for each other while Godzilla is out there on the loose, now don’t we?”

  “Tyler!” Rosie laughed, her tone somehow managing to be admonishing, flirtatious, and commiserative all at the same time. “That’s awful! He’s your father, you know.”

  “He is, and he’s a terrifying man. Now quick, get off the intercom, and whatever you do, look busy! The last thing I want is for him to decide you aren’t working hard enough and press me to fire you.”

  Rosie shut the intercom off without another word. She was definitely good at taking orders, Tyler thought to himself, and nobody could ever accuse her of being otherwise. He remembered his dad telling him when he’d first come on as a part of the family corporation that whatever he did he needed to avoid keeping his dick away from the help, and for once he was glad he had listened to something dear old Dad had to say. Rosie was a good-looking chick, but if he’d nailed her he wouldn’t have her as an ally now, and Lord only knew an ally was definitely called for. If Daddy-o was coming back for a second day in a row, that meant trouble. What it probably meant was that he had come to make good on his threat from the day before, something that seemed incomprehensible to Tyler but could nevertheless be 100 percent true.

  “Tyler!” Charles Evans’s voice boomed across, well, everything, making his presence well known before he even opened the door to Tyler’s office, “I must say, son, I’m impressed. Part of me thought you wouldn’t show today. Thought you might decide to hide out at home with your tail between your legs. Glad to see I was wrong. Perhaps we’ll manage to make a man out of you yet, although I have no problem admitting that I have my doubts. But then I suppose it’s no secret I’ve had my doubts about you all along.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Good to see you, too.”

  “Don’t act so glum, Tyler, it makes you look like a pussy.”

  “You really do know how to greet a guy, don’t you?”

  “Cut the shit, Tyler. You know you brought this on yourself. And you had fair warning that this was coming, so you don’t have any right to be surprised. I would appreciate it if you acted like a grown man while we get this whole thing sorted out.”

  “This whole thing? What are you even talking about, Dad? It would be great if you used something besides pronouns when you speak.”

  “Just shut up and try not to make things any worse, all right? Am I using words you can understand?”

  Tyler’s initial reaction was to ask his father what the hell he was talking about but then thought better of it instead. He shut his mouth up tight, willing himself not to say something to make things tenser than they already were, and sent mental orders to his dad to just turn around and go back from wherever he came from. Surely there was somebody else for him to go and torment, right? Surely Tyler couldn’t be the only one. He was right on the verge of saying fuck it and mentioning the possibility to see if it might actually set him free when he heard his intercom crackle yet again. Sweet Christ, he thought to himself sourly, what could it be now?

  “Um, Tyler?”

  “Tyler?” Charles Evans barked, his brow furrowing in his signature “I’m about to chew somebody’s ass out” look. “You don’t think that’s a little bit informal for your boss, sweetheart? He’s Mr. Evans to you, miss.”

  “Oh! I’m... I’m sorry, it’s just that—”

  “Just that what? You don’t argue with the boss, hon. That’s something you would already know if my son had done the job he was supposed to.”

  “It’s what I told her to call me,” Tyler said loudly, bound and determined to outtalk his larger-than-life dad. “So she’s doing exactly what I told her to. Problem solved. What is it, Rosie?”

  “Thank you, sir,” Rosie answered, obviously grateful for his intervention but also too rattled to call him by his first name any longer. “I just wanted to let you know that you’ve got another visitor.”

  “Well, tell whoever it is to either go away or wait until I’m through. I’m busy and unfortunately can’t say when we’re going to be through in here.”

  “No, Rosie,” his dad spoke up, a smug look rising up on his face the looks of which Tyler didn’t care for one bit, “that won’t be necessary. Show her back, please. We’ll wait.”

  The intercom clicked off, and Tyler thought he could actually see in his mind’s eye the look of total relief on Rosie’s face over the fact that her part in this uncomfortable interaction would soon be through. Tyler looked to Charles Evans for some kind of explanation. All he got for his efforts was more smugness, noting that something about it was maybe a little cruel as well as just controlling. He wanted to ask him what the hell was going on, what he thought he was doing, but he thought it was the kind of thing that would give his crotchety dad a sense of satisfaction, and there was no way he was going to give him that. Instead, he watched the door, waiting to see who was there to meet with him and why his dad seemed so goddamned happy about it. He didn’t know what he expected, but when he saw who pushed open the double doors to his office, he was most definitely taken aback.

  The first thing he noticed about her was her legs. Her tight pencil skirt ended at an acceptably modest distance above her knees, but that didn’t stop Tyler from being able to see that she had the kind of legs rarely seen outside of the models of Sports Illustrated . And he should know, too—he’d been with more than one top model in his day, had certainly been with enough women to know how rare it was to see one with a body like this chick was sporting. And it didn’t stop at the legs, either. They were topped by a perfect pair of hips that tapered off to a small waist and a set off tits he would have loved to bury his face in. When he got to her face, he was both impressed and maybe a little bit embarrassed. Her skin was a creamy white, the kind of color that made her look completely unspoiled by the elements around her. Her eyes were a fiery, watchful green, and her hair, although pinned up in a respectable updo, was a mass of red curls he would have paid money to see cascading around her naked shoulders. Tyler had seen a lot of naked women in his life, had never suffered from a shortage of easy fucks, but rarely had he been as immediately drawn to one as he was to this girl. The embarrassment came when he saw the look in her eyes as she saw all of these thoughts travel through his mind. He had a pretty good idea she could tell everything he was thinking, and fro
m the look of her, she was far from impressed. She actually looked at him like she thought he was distasteful, like he was a bad smell or a foul taste she couldn’t quite manage to get out of her mouth. He’d never even met the woman and she already hated him, and to make matters worse, his dad looked thrilled to see it. He actually let out a chuckle, something Tyler couldn’t remember hearing come out of him before, and stepped forward to shake her hand.

  “Miss Banks,” he spoke warmly, something that would have been confusing all on its own but was doubly so because his dad knew the hot girl’s name. “Right on time. I like that in an employee.”

  “Employee?” Tyler asked sharply, feeling his first hint of distaste to match that of this Miss Banks character. “She’s your employee?”

  “That she is.”

  “Fine, great. Then why don’t you take her somewhere else and have a meeting with her? Have your meeting somewhere that isn’t my office.”

  “You know, I would, except this is a meeting that pertains to you.”

  “Awesome. Care to tell me how?”

  “She’s the answer to the little problem you’ve created. The fucking PR nightmare.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “PR is her thing. Isn’t that right, Miss Banks?”

  “That’s correct,” she answered, her eyes flitting uncertainly from Charles to Tyler and then back to Charles again. “But I think I may be a bit confused. You haven’t mentioned yet what it is you’ve hired me for...”

  “This. This is what I’ve hired you for. My numbskull of a son has gone and gotten himself plastered all over the covers of every smutty gossip rag there is. Every housewife who waits in line for her groceries gets to read about what an asshole he is. They get to read about his contentious divorce with that nightmare slut of a wife, Camilla. I’m sure you’ve seen it. You have, haven’t you?”