The Billionaire's Nanny: A BWWM Romantic Comedy

by Mia Caldwell

“Oh, there were plenty,” Jarvis cuts in. “Heady times for a lawyer, a lot of us made our names then.”

  “Well this one was mostly in the UK. This bank that had been around for hundreds of years was caught funneling money into the Middle East. They were funding Saddam Hussein and Gaddafi, among others. Like, they turned out to be the Supervillain Savings and Loan.”

  “A Savings and Loan is actually a different thing,” says Jarvis. Corbin cuts him a look. "Well, it is. No need to be inaccurate just to serve a metaphor."

  “Riiight,” says Asia, rolling her eyes. "Anyway. So this bank ends up having to shut down after this, everyone pulls their money, they close in disgrace."

  “Oh yes, the Wellington Trace bank,” begins Jarvis, then he clams up after another look from Corbin.

  “That’s the one. It was big news, especially in Europe. Here, I imagine people in banking were all over it, but it didn’t hold the headlines for more than a couple of days. But I kept noticing that Charles Hamilton was often asked to comment. He’d be mentioned as ‘financier,’ rather that just saying he was head of Plymouth Rock Financial, which he was and is. That seemed weird.”

  She shuffles the papers in her hand for a moment, then continues. "At about the same time, in the US, some of the money that had gone into Wellington Trace was found to have come out of Mexican drug cartels. So I was looking at some articles about that and found some statistics about spikes in drug traffic. When I started laying it out, I noticed that an Enid Brooks kept turning up, having gone on ‘philanthropic missions’ to ‘troubled border regions.’" Asia made air quotes as she talked. Those trips to help our troubled neighbors to the South always seemed to come right before those spikes in drug traffic."

  Jarvis tries to cut her off but she holds up a hand and barrells on. “So. I decided to look into this group she claimed to be with, um,” she looks at the paper, ‘Sisters of Compassion.’ Sounds like nuns, right? But it’s not. It’s not affiliated with a church at all. In fact, it’s not real at all. It’s just a way for her to hand money over to these drug cartels."

  “Can you prove this?” Jarvis manages to get in.

  “Yeah,” adds Corbin, “that’s a pretty serious accusation.”

  "I know. That’s why I’ve called you all together. So I see in the police reports in The Globe that there were police calls to the Hamilton’s address in Beacon Hill in this period. Three or four of them. But it doesn’t say why and there’s no follow up information. It’s just like they came by for a drink or something. But Miguel could get more."

  “Miguel is her boyfriend,” I tell Corbin and Jarvis. “He’s a cop.”

  Jarvis raises an eyebrow and nods at her to continue.

  "So the police records were scrubbed mostly clean. You go back to those dates and it just says there was a call, no code, nothing. But Miguel knows a guy who knows a guy and he sends us the un-scrubbed record, dug out of the depths in Boston. Stuff that never got put into the digital system. Seems they were on to her and the state boys would show up at Casa Hamilton, threaten to contact the feds, and they’d leave again with a new weight room or a couple of new squad cars. This happened three times that we can find evidence for."

  “It’s in writing? You can prove this?” Jarvis is on the edge of his seat.

  Asia nods. “Yup.”

  “Would this do the trick?” Corbin asks his lawyer.

  “OH yes,” he says, the wheels turning, “if this checks out, losing a custody battle will be the least of their troubles.” Jarvis turns to Asia again. “Ms. Johnson, would you be free to come out to Boston for a couple of days?”

  “I’m free as a bird,” she says, smiling.

  I look at Corbin and he raises his eyebrows at me. His face is hopeful.

  The mood at Domaine Chanterelle is decidedly lighter than it has been since we got back from New York. Corbin starts joining us in the pool again. We go to bed at the same time again, and do not go to sleep right away. The updates I get from Asia and Corbin gets from Jarvis continue to be positive. It looks like the Hamiltons will be lucky to escape jail time.

  “You know, I’ve been thinking,” says Corbin, stroking my arm as we lay in bed, exhausted and happy, “I’d rather use this information to keep them away from Maeve, but not push it any farther than that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  "I…I know they’ve done terrible things, but I can’t feel good about sending someone like that to jail. There’s no evidence that they’re still involved in drugs or Mexican politics or anything like that. They’re not nice, but I don’t think they’re doing anything that means they should go to prison, you know?"

  “Mmm, I guess. Just being really awful shouldn’t be jailable, probably.”

  “Besides, pursuing this whole thing would mean a really drawn out court battle. I’m going to talk to Jarvis tomorrow, see what we can do. For all the crap they’ve been involved with, now they’re just two mean old people. They don’t deserve my daughter, but they don’t deserve to die in prison, either.”

  “I think you might be nicer than I am, but you’re probably right. I just want to be sure she never puts her bony claws on Maeve again.”

  “We are on the same page there.”

  I drift off to sleep, warm in the arms of a really nice guy.

  Chapter Eleven

  “They want me to come to Boston.” Corbin’s pacing the kitchen, looking at his phone.

  “Okay, when?” I ask, handing Maeve another banana chunk.

  “Soon, but I don’t want to be away from Maeve right now. I feel like we need to keep our case strong.”

  “So we’ll come along.”

  “She’s barely back on schedule from the trip to New York. If we drag her back to the East coast and then back again, she’ll be back to square one. It isn’t fair to her.” He’s still staring at his phone as he tap tap taps.

  “We could just keep her on California time for those few days.”

  “No, I’m going to tell them to come to us. We are in the power position here and I think we can show that by making them come here. I’m sending a message to Jarvis right now, find out when he can make it. He’ll likely want Asia here, too. So can you check with her?”

  “Sure! Anything I can do to help.”

  He stops looking at his phone and comes over to me. Maeve grabs his arm with her banana covered hand as he leans in to me, but he doesn’t flinch. He plants a kiss on my forehead and says, "You have helped. You saved us. You made the call to Asia and you saved us."

  I mean, obviously Asia did most of the saving, along with Miguel, but hey, who am I to throw away gratitude?

  We get it all set up for two days from now. It’s moving faster than I thought, but the sooner we can put this behind us, the better. I really need to start thinking about the coming school year, anyway, and it’s nearly impossible with this uncertainty hanging over us.

  When Corbin collapses into bed beside me, he sighs.

  “What’s up?”

  “My parents want to come out. They want to be around when we’re meeting with the Hamiltons and their lawyer.”

  “That’ll be nice, I liked them.”

  “They liked you, too, but now we have the whole ‘parents will see how I live’ thing going on.”

  I sit up on my elbow and look at him. “What on earth are you talking about? It’s not like you’re living in a one room apartment, sleeping on a mattress made of pizza boxes. You have staff. This place is spotless.”

  He chuckles. "Yeah, but I see it through their eyes. They’re going to be looking for what I screwed up."

  “Corbin, are we even talking about the same people? I met your parents. I spent most of a week with them. They are not peering at you, searching for weakness so they can strike. That’s the Hamiltons.”

  He wipes his hand down his face and looks at me with a sad smile. “You’re right. I’m sure much of this ‘Corbin is the fuckup’ stuff is in my head. And I’m sure I’ve let the Hamiltons get in my
head. Just kick me when I do it, okay? Feeling sorry for myself is not an attractive trait.”

  "No, it is not. You need to rejoin the family you have instead of worrying about the one you had. Or thought you had."

  He nods and pulls me to him. “What would have become of me, of Maeve, without you?”

  “You probably wouldn’t have even gotten a BLT that day.”

  “Why?”

  “We didn’t serve them. I made the cook make one just for you. I felt like you couldn’t take any more stress. And picking a different sandwich seemed like it might be what pushed you over the edge.”

  He laughs and kisses me. “It might have. Let me thank you for your consideration,” he says, kissing his way down my throat. He lifts up my Tshirt and kisses down my stomach. I kick off the covers to let him go all the way down.

  He pulls off my panties and tosses them over his shoulder, giving me a crooked grin. I part my legs and he settles his head between my thighs. He teases me at first, the very tip of his tongue darting in and out of my folds. When he suddenly licks right up my center, I gasp and clutch the sheets.

  His gentle tickles turn to searching probes, forceful laps, and I begin to thrash about on the bed. My oral sex experience is, I admit, not broad, but I’m certain Corbin is in a master class. He clearly enjoys it, teasing, looking up to watch my expression, going back to work with gusto. He lets me get so near a climax and then backs off, gentling his touch, letting the build-up subside. Then goes near again, backing off once more.

  I’m wild with need, yet want this delicious yearning to go on forever. He slides a finger into me, then another, pressing down slightly as his tongue continues to lap firmly. He sucks my bud into his mouth and the suction pairs with the pressure of his tongue to push me right to the edge again. This time he pushes me over, working his fingers, his tongue, sending me into a rocking delight. I bite my lip to keep from crying out and waking Maeve. The feeling pulses through my body, making me spasm with pleasure. He keeps at it, more gently this time, letting me ride it completely to the end.

  At last, I pull him up to me, tasting my own juices on his mouth. His cock is pressed hard against me as we kiss. Corbin rolls onto his back, pulling me on top of him. I lean forward and rise up to let his cock press against my opening and then slide, oh so slowly, down onto him. I sit atop him, completely filled.

  “Oh my god, you are so beautiful,” he murmurs, reaching up to cup my breasts.

  I begin to raise and lower myself, feeling his length deep inside me. When I angle myself just so, it’s as if he can reach my very center. As his cock presses that spot, I moan low, trying to keep the noise down, but unable to stop it completely.

  I put my hand on his face, feeling the scratchy beard stubble on my palm. It’s one of those overwhelming moments, when I feel lucky and bewildered and…in love. When the thought hits me, without thinking I say it. “I love you.”

  Corbin’s eyes shine and he pulls me down to a kiss. “I love you, too,” he says when he pulls back. The sappy smiles fade as the power of first I Love You’s drives us to more passionate lovemaking.

  My thigh muscles burn as I ride him and Corbin’s hips are rocking in rhythm to mine. Our bodies press together again and again, passion turning to raw, animal need. He’s sitting up, too, and we cling to one another as we thrust. My cries are no longer quiet and I no longer care.

  Another climax wells up and crashes over me, causing me to cry out louder still. Corbin’s cock swells within me as he, too , finds release with a shout. We continue to cling together, rocking more gently, as our orgasms subside and our brains return to our heads.

  At which point I hear Maeve on the monitor.

  “Guess we woke the baby.” I whisper into his neck.

  “Totally worth it. I’ll get her.” He pulls away from me and puts on a robe. I’m glad he went, I don’t think I could get up if the house was on fire.

  I can hear him, through the monitor softly singing to Maeve. Soon, she is quiet, then he is too, and he comes back into the room.

  “That wasn’t so hard,” he says with a smile.

  “You’re a natural,” I say, still flat in the bed.

  “God, I hope this goes well with the Hamiltons,” he says, wrapping me in his arms again.

  “It will,” I say. It has to.

  The next day is mostly Corbin rushing around the house with orders on how to fix things that aren’t broken and straighten things that aren’t askew. Connie and Marta good naturedly pretend to re-clean the already spotless house. Corbin even mows the lawn along the driveway himself, much to the head-shaking confusion of the gardener.

  He sleeps in his own bed that night, certain that he will toss and turn so much that neither of us will get a wink of sleep. I appreciate the consideration, but I manage to keep myself up quite well on my own.

  I’m in the shower when I hear the helicopter arrive with the Pierces. It has been decided that they will stay here in the main building with Maeve and I and the Hamiltons and their lawyer will meet with Corbin, Asia, and Jarvis in the conference room of the winery. “I don’t want those people in my home,” Corbin had said.

  As I get dressed, I can hear Maeve’s grandparents bringing her up to the playroom. I decide to take my time, let them have a moment. When I come in, Mitsy and Ed are both lying on the carpet, trying to get Maeve to crawl toward them. She’s on her hands and knees, rocking and smiling at them, but can’t seem to get enough momentum to take that first “step.”

  "She’s so close," says Mitsy as I enter. “It’ll happen any day now. There will be something she wants just out of reach and she’ll forget that she doesn’t know how to crawl and –zoom!–off she’ll go. With my children, they all took off after one of the dogs.”

  Edward says, “I guess Corbin just needs to get her a dog, then she’ll go.”

  “He keeps saying he’s going to,” I tell them. “Honestly, it makes my job a lot easier if she can’t get away from me.”

  Mitsy nods. “No sense wishing babyhood away. It goes so fast anyway. Truly, it seems like months since Corbin was this size.”

  I smile at the idea of baby Corbin. “She’s grown so much just in the time I’ve been here, so I can imagine.”

  “Corbin was such a blessing,” says Mitsy. “When I had the girls, nearly one after the next, I was too busy to really appreciate them. She shrugs.”I had help of course, but even so, it’s draining. And I was so focused on when they were hitting each stage of development, worried if they dropped behind what the charts said. But they were ten, eight, and six when Corbin was born. All in school, so grown up. And so I got to enjoy him completely." She laughs. “He didn’t walk until past his second birthday, probably because he never had to. Three big sisters, a nanny, me? His feet never touched the floor. He looked so much like Maeve, with big blue eyes and he had thick black ringlets I couldn’t bear to cut.”

  “Everyone thought he was a girl,” says Edward, maybe still a little sore about it.

  She waves her hand dismissively. “When Sarah was struggling in her first year of college and Emily had an eating disorder and Laura was doing her best to flunk out of Andover–all in the same year!–I still had my sweet nine year old, playing with Legos, bringing me flowers from the garden, sleeping with a teddy bear.”

  I’m trying not to giggle at this kind of mama’s boy image I’m getting now. I want to ask if they ever had matching sailor suits.

  “And it was hard for him to adjust to life at Groton because he’d been so coddled,” says Ed.

  “Nonsense,” Mitsy says mildly. Clearly they’ve told this story before and she’s no longer interested in arguing. “He fell in with a bad crowd after that lacrosse coach was such an asshat. Pardon my language.” She looks at me and smiles. “Anyway, he was a delightful child and I’m sure Maeve will be, too.”

  “I hope today goes well,” I say, looking out the window toward the outbuildings. “I think she’ll have a better chance at being delightful if
we can keep Enid Hamilton away from her.”

  As if summoned, I see a long black car turn down the drive. “I bet that’s them,” I say, pointing.

  My phone buzzes and Asia texts me that she’s there and that she’ll keep me updated. Jarvis doesn’t think she’ll have to do much. I didn’t see her car, so she must have come in the side drive.

  We keep playing with Maeve and chatting, but the mood in the room is darker, distracted. I know we all want to know what’s going on in the conference room.

  “I never liked Elise,” says Mitsy suddenly. “I met her at a Parent’s Weekend at Dartmouth, it was right before Ed had his heart attack, I recall. Not that I blame her. Not for that. She was a beautiful girl, no doubt, but she seemed so…fake. She said ‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Pierce, Corbin’s told me so much about you!’ in that Eddie Haskell way–do you know who that even is?”

  I nod, I know the reference, if not where it came from. Some TV show.

  “Fake like that. Like she was also trying to suggest the things she’d heard weren’t good. Just…never liked her. But Corbin had always been a pretty sensible kid, very smart, so I assumed she’d be cast aside soon enough.”

  “No such luck,” says Ed, galloping a plastic horse in front of Maeve.

  “No, shortly after that, Corbin embarked on some kind of weird campaign. His grades came up, which was nice, but he started calling home more often and telling us about the clubs he’d joined…”

  “We thought he’d gotten scooped up by some cult or religious weirdoes,” says Ed. “It was odd.”

  I have to laugh, if a bit bitterly. “You know, this is very different from the story he tells. He remembers that he was a screw up until the heart attack and at that point he vowed to be a better son, to make you two proud. Elise was part of that. He thought she was the kind of girl you’d want him to be with.”

  “Oh good lord,” says Mitsy, shaking her head. “No, I even told him not to marry her. Told him it wasn’t too late to back out. He never said a bad word about her, but I could tell she was making him miserable.”

  “I offered to send him to India, to clear out while we cancelled the wedding and sent back the gifts,” says Ed.