by Tiana Cole
Southern Charm
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EXCERPT FROM The Billionaire's Super Nanny
Zeya
The phone ringing in my ear ripped me out of sleep. I sat up, trying to get my bearings in the dark living room where I’d fallen asleep. I looked at the caller ID and let out a low groan. It was my agent. And I didn’t feel like talking to him right now.
“Hey, Reggie.”
“Zeya, how are you?”
“I’m good, busy. What can I do for you, Reggie?”
“Straight to the point, as always. That’s what our readers like about you, Zeya.”
“I aim to please.”
I really didn’t. I just wanted to get him off the phone and out of my ear so I could go back to moping.
“That’s good, because I have a proposition for you.”
The tone of his voice told me I wasn’t going to like it, but it was looking more and more like I was going to have to go through a private company to adopt. And that was big money. It was going to derail my plan of paying it forward and adopting from a situation similar to my own growing up, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. If the state wasn’t willing to take a chance on a girl from a rough neighborhood who made it out and became a success, there wasn’t much more I could do.
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” I admitted.
“You’ll love this. It’s big money, and it shouldn’t be a long-term job.”
“I have a job.”
“This will help your career. I promise.”
I was skeptical, but Reggie had always been good to me. His motivation was sometimes suspect, but for the most part, he meant well. After all, if I made money, so did Reggie.
“Fine. What is it?”
“There’s a man in the city, a big business man. He has two kids that are completely out of hand, and his wife is leaving him.”
“Whoa, no. No way,” I said. “I’m not an actual nanny. You know that.”
“I know, but this is going to be worth your while.”
“I doubt it.”
“Look. The man is desperate. He’s a busy man, and he comes home to children who are wild and completely out of control. The oldest one starts school in the fall, and she’s not emotionally ready. He’s about to be doing this all on his own, and he needs someone to help him get things under control so he can move on after the divorce. Zeya, you can be that someone. And make money while you’re doing it.”
“Where is she going? Isn’t the mom going to help him? Why me?”
“Apparently, his driver was listening to you one day, and something you said to a caller hit home for this father. As for the mom, I don’t have the answers about his actual situation. Really, all I know is that his wife is walking away and leaving him with the kids after the divorce.”
“What do you mean? How could a mother do that?”
“I don’t really know any of the details. But women do walk away, it happens all the time.”
“I guess it does. That’s so awful for the family.”
“It is. But the father is willing to pay big to get his kids under control and to build a life that is good and stable for them. Isn’t that what every good father wants, Zeya?”
Damn Reggie. He knew he had me.
“I really don’t know about this, Reggie.”
But I needed money. I picked up the rejection letter, looking at those words. Doesn’t meet requirements. That was code for single, black and female. Whether I liked it or not, my options for bringing a child into this world were limited at best. If I wanted to adopt, I was going to need the funds to do it.
“What is he proposing?” I asked.
“Are you sitting down?”
“Of course.”
“Twenty grand a week and a bonus if you finish in under six weeks.”
He let that sink in for a moment, which was good because I was thinking I couldn’t have possibly heard that right. That was one hundred twenty thousand dollars in six weeks, plus a bonus. Who had that kind of money?
“How can he afford that? That’s crazy!”
“It’s Taylor Stephens.”
“The Taylor Stephens? The media mogul? As in the man who owns and operates half of all the news and radio station in New York?”
“The one and only, although half is a bit of an exaggeration. And he’s mostly focused on advertising.”
“None of that matters, does it? I don’t care what his focus is, I can’t work for him. He’s awful.”
“He’s a cutthroat businessman, but he leaves that at work. Trust me. I’ve met him more than once outside of his business deals. He’s a nice man. A little forceful at times, but he’s a good guy. And he loves his children.”
“What about my show?”
“I already talked to the producer, and they’re going to run reruns while you’re gone.”
“You went behind my back?”
“I did. I’m sorry. This came up just today and I wanted to make it easy on you. You don’t have to say yes, but there’s nothing stopping you.”
He was right.
“I hate when you’re right.”
“So you’ll do it?”
“Maybe. I need to meet him first. I’m not going to say yes without seeing what I’m getting myself into.”
“Fair enough. I’ll let him know that you’ll meet him tomorrow after your show.”
I hung up with Reggie, feeling joyful and scared all at once. It had been a few years since I’d been a nanny for anyone. Giving advice was one thing, but this was going to be completely different. I knew I could handle it, but there was so much pressure. This wasn’t just a nanny job. This was a man who expected me to fix all his problems and then walk away.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
I decided to leave it be and get ready for bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and I needed to be rested.
A quick shower and a light snack later and I was climbing into my bed. I rolled over, ignoring the video monitor I’d installed for the still unused kid’s room. I was looking to get an older child, but the state had insisted that I be ready for any age from birth to thirteen.
I’d held onto the hope that things would work out after this latest set of hoops, so I hadn’t removed the monitor. It was a painful reminder that no matter how far I’d come, I wasn’t good enough. To the state, I would never rise above my start in life, and that made me furious. How were foster kids ever supposed to find hope if even the most successful of us were shunned? It didn’t make sense.
I drifted off, mad at the world and hoping this job with Taylor Stephens would be the event that changed my life.
***
My day at the studio went by with lightning speed. My producer Ted still needed me to come in to record one day a week, which wasn’t that bad. Taylor Stephens could hire a sitter for four hours a week.
I wrapped up my show and said goodbye, promising that I would let him know when to expect me as soon as I had a schedule worked out.
Coming out of the subway, I went straight to where my car was parked and headed straight for the address that Reggie had texted me. Way out in East Hampton, it was going to take me awhile to get there. I thought briefly about stopping home to change, but decided against it. If Taylor Stephens was going to judge me on my flashy knit leggings, knee high boots and curly hair, well that was his problem. Children required adults to get down on their level, and to get dirty. No way was I stuffing these curves into a ridiculous power suit to impress a billionaire. If he didn’t like the person I was, he could find another nanny.
I pulled up to the large gate that protected the street in East Hampton commonly known as Billionaire Lane. Here, the houses h
ad private beach access and boasted at least four acres of land. I showed my driver’s license and told the guard that I was there to see Taylor Stephens.
He took one look at my license and a huge grin broke out across his face.
“You’re that super nanny on the radio, right?”
“I am.”
“Wow, you’re amazing. You’re a lot prettier than I had imagined.”
He looked shocked at his admission, face turning crimson as his eyes darted around.
“Don’t worry, you made my day. Most people are just surprised that I’m black, they rarely get far enough to tell me I’m pretty.”
The man looked relieved that I wasn’t angry. He checked his computer and handed me back my license.
“You’re right there on the roster ‘unlimited access’.”
I wondered if that was special.
He opened the gate for me and I drove through, waving as I went. I kept my eyes peeled, looking for the address. The monstrous mansion loomed to my right, and I slipped my car into the driveway and tucked it as far out of the way as possible.
A petite blond woman came out of the house before I even had a chance to put it into park. Her smile was warm and welcoming. Behind her, the door was thrown open and a little girl around five with bouncy brown curls and big brown eyes ran out.
“Tante! Tante, is that her?”
The little girl grabbed the woman’s hand and skipped along beside her. My throat felt tight. How could this mother just walk away from these children? She didn’t look like a monster. She looked like an angel, and the little girl appeared to love her dearly.
Was Taylor Stephens so awful that his ex-wife would walk away from her kids rather than stay with him?
I didn’t know what to say to this woman, didn’t know if I could manage any niceties, knowing she was leaving so soon.
I didn’t have to.
“Uh hallo,” she said with a thick French accent, “I’m Nichelle. Come with me.”
She motioned for me to follow and turned around, the little girl clutching her hand and casting curious glances my way. The two spoke freely in French, but I didn’t understand a word.
The foyer was stunning, with floor to ceiling windows that let the brilliant light into the house. The tile floors were carefully matched and looked outlandishly expensive. To my right, a large sitting room featured a thick, soft carpet and inviting chairs and sofas arranged to encourage people to sit and talk with one another.
There wasn’t a television in sight.
“Please, sit,” Nichelle said and I did, perching on the edge of an overstuffed chair and trying to look comfortable when I didn’t feel it. The sitting room was as big as my entire apartment.
I should have stopped to change.
Nichelle left the room, taking the little girl with her. So far, I hadn’t seen anything that screamed ‘disobedient’ to me, but children had a knack for making their parents look like liars at first glance. I’d seen more than my fair share of children who behaved well for the first fifteen minutes and then melted down into a disastrous, overstimulated mess.
I didn’t have to wait long for Taylor Stephens to show up. I felt his presence before he rounded the corner, and I wondered if I should stand up when he walked into the room. I decided against it, trying to appear relaxed when he strode into the room.
His hair was perfectly coiffed and a lovely shade of sandy blond that was almost brown. His hazel eyes were dark and serious as he approached me with a grim set to his mouth.
I was tempted to run, to leave this place, but I stood my ground. I stood and thrust my hand out, smiling at him my most brilliant smile and looking him dead in the eye. I introduced myself before he could take control of the situation, and I watched him falter a moment at the unexpectedness of it all.
“I’m Zeya Sparks, Mr. Stephens. It’s nice to meet you.”
His large, warm hand enveloped mine in a handshake that was firm but not too tight. A
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said.
I didn’t doubt that was true. Closer now, I could see things his confident exterior had masked at first. Fine lines around his eyes showed his exhaustion, and there was something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Considering the divorce and the fact that Nichelle would be leaving soon, I imagined it was heartache.
Not at all what I was expecting from such a powerful man.
“I’m happy to be here. It would be good if Nichelle could join us—”
He held up his hand to stop me.
“Nichelle is leaving in a month. Less, if you work your magic fast enough. She has her own life to lead, and I don’t want to trap her here.”
I didn’t know if I was impressed or disgusted by his approach to Nichelle. If it were me, I’d be fighting tooth and nail to keep her here, not paving the way for her to leave. But to each his own, and I wasn’t here to tell Taylor how to manage his love life.
I gave him my normal spiel, laying it all out on the table, so to speak.
“You can take it or leave it, but this is how I work. I’ll watch you for a few days and then I’ll come up with a family plan. Once I implement the plan, everyone must follow it. I won’t tolerate any deviation, and if you can’t respect that I’m here to help you, I’ll walk away.”
I waited, half expecting him to throw me out. He was a classic alpha, face set in that look so many of them favored. If I were any other woman, maybe I would have been intimidated. But I was Zeya Sparks, and I couldn’t be bought. I didn’t care if he was worth billions or a few hundred dollars. If he wanted my help, then I was in charge.
I couldn’t be sure, but he looked as if he was weighing his words very carefully. Maybe he was looking for a way to tell me that I wasn’t what he was looking for. Or maybe he was going to remind me that he was paying me.
I was shocked when he finally spoke.
“Look,” he said. “I don’t really care how you want to do this. The bottom line is that my life is in shambles and I need help with my kids. If you can make them behave and happy, you can make all the damn rules you want. You’re supposed to be the best, and I’m not wasting my time with other people that will spend more time kissing my ass than fixing my problems. My kids mean everything to me, and they’re miserable. They have no routine and no boundaries, and I know that’s not good for them. I need help.”
He stopped, looking at me with an expression so lost and forlorn my heart ached for him.
“I need you, Zeya Sparks. When can you start?”
I didn’t hesitate. “I can start now.”
“Good. I’ll show you to your room.”
To read full story, download here: The Billionaire's Super Nanny
Marrying Her Greek Billionaire
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Eight Months Later
Also from Tiana Cole:
Also from BWWM UNITED