by Emily Bishop
“I know, I know. I look stupid,” I tell him.
He cocks his head to one side.
I swear the dog can sometimes understand me.
“Where’s David, huh? Why don’t you go find him? If you do, I’ll give you a treat.”
Zombie just looks at me.
All right. So maybe this isn’t one of the times he understands me or maybe he’s just loyal to David and doesn’t want to betray him. Or maybe he’s just lazy.
I get up. “I should have gotten David a German Shepherd or a bloodhound.”
Zombie just looks at me as he rolls over, baring his tummy.
“No,” I tell him. “No belly rub for you. And no dinner, either, until your master is found.”
I leave the room, pausing in the hallway.
“David!”
Still no answer.
I scratch my head. Where can he be hiding? If I want to find him, I have to think like a kid. I have to think like David.
If I were David, where would I hide?
Suddenly, the answer dawns on me – the pantry. If I was going to stay somewhere indefinitely, it would be somewhere comfortable, somewhere spacious. And it would have food so I could just eat if I got hungry.
And for all his adventures, David happens to have a big appetite.
I go down the stairs and to the kitchen, heading to the pantry. Sure enough, he’s there beneath the last shelf, behind a row of canned meat and beside some bottles of condiments.
“David.” I put my hands on my hips.
He laughs, toppling some cans of meat as he crawls out of hiding. “You had a hard time finding me, didn’t you? I thought no one would ever find me.”
“It’s not funny, David.”
I reach for his arm but he eludes me. “You might have found me but you still have to catch me!”
“David!”
Oh, no, you’re not getting away.
I chase after him, grabbing him in the living room.
“David, you are in serious trouble.” I lift a finger at him. “You made us all worry and wasted our time looking for you.”
“I didn’t tell you to look for me,” David answers back.
“Why, you—”
“You found him?” an unfamiliar voice interrupts from behind me.
No, it’s familiar. I just can’t say whose voice it is.
I turn my head to find out and as I do, my eyes grow wide. Hers do the same – her mesmerizing black eyes that I thought I’d never gaze into again.
“You?”
Rules
Sabrina
Shit, it’s him. Mr. Gladiator. Mr. Muscles. That guy I bumped into at the mall.
There’s no mistaking it. Not that voice or that face or that build. Heck, he’s even wearing the same long-sleeved black shirt and faded jeans.
It is him.
Wait. Does this mean he’s… my boss?
“What are you doing here?” he asks with narrowed eyes.
“Forgive me, sir, but I was the one who let her in,” Lucy says. “She said she’s the new nanny so I told her to wait in the library while we find David.”
I lower my gaze. “I hope you don’t mind. I’ve been waiting for nearly an hour and there was such a commotion that I thought I’d check things out. Sorry.”
“You are the new nanny?”
I nod then take a deep breath before stepping forward, extending my arm. “Sabrina James from Stargazers Child Services.”
“Nice to meet you, Sabrina.” He shakes my hand. “I’m Randall Brewster.”
I nod. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Brewster. I’ll be your nanny from now on.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“I mean your son’s nanny,” I correct, trying not to blush.
Randall turns to the boy next to him. “This is David, my son.”
I offer him my hand as well, bending over. “Hello, David.”
David doesn’t answer or even look at me.
“David?” Randall squeezes his shoulder.
“Hello,” he mumbles, then looks at his father. “Can I go to my room now?”
Randall looks at one of the maids. “Lucy, bring David to his room. Make sure he stays there.”
“Yes, sir.”
Lucy leads the boy up the stairs. Halfway up, he glances over his shoulder at me, glaring.
Oh, boy. He sure is a difficult one. Still, nothing I can’t handle.
“Sabrina?” Randall says.
“Yes?” I look at him.
Now, this one I’m not sure I can handle. In fact, I still can’t believe he’s the new client, my new boss. Thank goodness I didn’t behave badly earlier. Or did I?
“I guess we need to talk. Come with me.”
I follow him down the hall to a room that has bookshelves, filing cabinets and a large, mahogany desk in the middle, a black leather chair behind it.
His office.
I can see other things as well, like the trophies on the shelf, some for his company and some for weightlifting. So, he really is a weightlifter. I see a picture of him lifting a barbell on the wall, too, which looks like it’s a magazine cover that’s been framed. Beside it are other pictures, one of him in a suit, where he looks incredibly hot, one of him with David, taken years earlier and another with his wife, taken even before that. Carol said he’s a widower, his wife having died giving birth to David.
So, he’s a successful businessman, a former professional weightlifter and he’s a single dad, too.
A hot single dad. “Please sit down.” Randall gestures to one of the two other chairs in front of his desk.
I take a deep breath as I take the one on the right, telling myself to calm down.
Remember, Sabrina. He’s your boss.
Right. I should start being more professional. In fact, I should probably apologize for my casual behavior earlier.
“Mr. Brewster…”
“Please call me Randall,” he tells me.
My eyes grow wide. What?
“When it’s just you and me, you can call me Randall.”
“But…”
“After all, I’d like us to be friends.”
Friends?
“I think we should work together to figure out what’s best for David and do it, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” I agree. “But…”
“Sabrina,” he says, not letting me finish. “That’s your name, right?”
I nod.
“You have no idea how nice it is to know you have one. Now, I don’t have to call you Bug Lady.”
“Bug Lady?” I frown.
“I had to call you something.” He leans forward. “Who would have thought you were actually my son’s new nanny? I guess you weren’t lying when you were meeting a boy much younger than twenty-five.”
I grin, remembering that. “Much, much younger.”
“He’s quite good-looking, too. I’m almost jealous.”
Jealous? How can this hunk of a man be jealous of such a little boy? Anyway, he has no reason to be.
Unless he’s still interested in me.
“By the way, that uniform looks good on you.”
I look at my pale blue dress, which has a jabot collar, big, white buttons in the middle all the way to the waistline and three-fourth sleeves. It’s not the typical nanny’s uniform, I guess. Carol said she designed it herself, with the goal of making it not look so stringent or intimidating, just light and comfortable, hopefully conjuring happy thoughts.
It does seem to have that effect on Randall, though I’m pretty sure Carol meant it for the children and not the fathers, which in turn makes me blush.
“I guess you were right, too, when you said you never got off work, huh?” he adds.
I fidget with my skirt. “I work full-time, after all.”
He taps his fingers on his desk. “Then I guess we’ll just have coffee here at home.”
I look at him in surprise. He still wants to have coffee with me?
“Or maybe you hat
e coffee?”
“No, I don’t.” Oh, what the heck. It’s just coffee. “Sure. I guess we can share a coffee break, if I have one that is.”
“Of course you do. You can take a break whenever you need.”
I can?
“Actually, you can do whatever you want when David is at school.”
“Do I bring him to school?” I ask.
“No. That’s Harry’s job. You just need to get him prepared for school. It starts at eight-fifteen. He leaves the house about half an hour before that.”
I nod, committing that to memory.
“And by getting him prepared for school, I mean that you just need to get his bath ready, his clothes ready and his bag ready. Mrs. Wilson is also the cook so she prepares breakfast. She’ll cook David’s lunch, too, so you just have to put it in his lunch box and in his bag.”
“Okay.”
“When David comes home, he’ll be under your care. You can help him with homework or whatever he’s doing for school. You can play with him. No computer games on weeknights, though. You can watch TV with him. Basically, you just get to keep him company, provide for his needs, and make sure he follows the rules.”
“What rules?”
He counts on his fingers. “No computer games on weeknights. Bedtime at eight-thirty. Do homework. Read one book per day. Do fifty jumping jacks every other day.”
“Fifty jumping jacks?” My eyes grow wide.
“That’s his prescribed exercise routine. It’s actually very mild.”
I guess it would be if one did fifty crunches, squats, push-ups and what-nots a day, which is what I think he does.
“No sweets after dinner on weeknights. No junk food. Brush teeth after breakfast and before bedtime. No cursing. No pranks.” He looks at me. “I hope you got rid of those plastic bugs.”
“I did,” I admit.
No wonder he asked me to do that.
“Also, you’re in charge of cutting his nails, combing his hair, you know, grooming. And making sure he takes his vitamins.”
“Okay.”
“Also, his dog is his responsibility but it’s your job to give him a bath.”
“Right.”
I hope I remember all that.
“Any questions?” Randall asks, sitting back in his chair.
I touch my collar. “What about rules for me?”
“For you?” He looks confused.
“Do you want me to eat with the maids? Do you–”
“You can eat whatever you want from the kitchen with whoever you like whenever you like, though I hope you’ll eat dinner with David and me.”
“If that is what you’d like.”
“I think that’s it.” Randall places his hand on his desk. “Any other questions?”
I can’t think of any at the moment so I shake my head.
“Sabrina.” He leans forward again, his tone slightly more serious.
“Yes?”
Why is it that whenever he calls me by name, my heart skips a beat?
“The most important thing I want you to do is to make David happy,” he tells me. “And help him be a good person.”
I nod. “I understand.”
Any father would want that for his child and as David’s nanny, I want it for him, too.
“Good.” Randall stands up. “Then I guess it’s time for you to get to know him.”
***
“David, do you remember Sabrina?” Randall asks after we enter David’s bedroom.
It’s a big bedroom, more so than the bedroom I had as a child or any child’s bedroom I’ve seen. It looks like two rooms joined into one, in fact, one of them a fortress-inspired playroom with toys scattered on the floor and arranged on the shelves and another the actual bedroom with an army tank bed, a desk that looks like a rocket, a race car-inspired bean bag and a set of drums in the corner.
Not a very cohesive or organized room but it does seem to belong to a boy with a lot of imagination and a sense of adventure.
At once, I get a glimpse of this boy. He may be causing a lot of trouble but he doesn’t mean any harm. It’s all just play to him, all good fun, which means he isn’t so bad.
“Of course I do,” he answers his father with a pout as he sits on his bed. “I just met her, didn’t I?”
I wonder why he’s being so difficult.
“David, I’m warning you.” Randall points a finger at him. “You have to be polite to Sabrina and give her a chance.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so. You’ve already caused enough trouble for this weekend. Any more and you’ll…”
“What? I’m already grounded for the rest of my life, aren’t I?”
Randall crosses his arms over his chest. “Do you not want to use your computer for the rest of your life, too?”
He doesn’t an answer.
Randall sighs, then turns to me. “I guess he’s all yours. If you have any concerns about him, anything at all, you tell me, okay?”
“I will,” I assure him.
“Good luck.” He pats me on the shoulder before leaving the room.
I take a deep breath.
Okay. Where do I start?
Seeing the Labrador at the foot of his bed, I kneel in front of him. Maybe if I can earn the trust of his dog, I can earn his trust, too.
“Hello, there,” I say to the dog.
The dog just looks at me. Well, at least it isn’t growling.
“You’ve got a nice dog. What’s his name?”
David doesn’t answer.
I look at the dog’s collar. “Zombie? That’s a great name.”
“If you touch him, he’ll eat your brain,” David threatens.
I don’t cower. “Is that right, Zombie? Well, guess what, if you’re a good dog, maybe I’ll let you have a teeny bit of my brain.”
David snorts. “That’s crazy. You can’t give some of your brain to someone.”
“Who knows?” I shrug. “Some say we only use a small part of our brain, after all.”
Another snort. “Maybe you do.”
An insult but I refuse to take offense.
“Besides, crazy isn’t always bad. It just means you think differently.”
David creases his eyebrows. “You’re weird.”
“Weird isn’t always bad, either. Sometimes, it can be even fun.”
David says nothing.
I stand up, looking around. “Wow. You’ve got a really cool room, you know. I wish I had a room like this when I was little.”
Still nothing.
“So, what do you want to be when you grow up – a soldier, an astronaut, a race car driver or a drummer?”
“I don’t want to grow up,” he says.
“Ah. I felt the same way. Sometimes, I still wish I was a child. Still, there are things only grown-ups can do.”
“Like?”
“Like eating whatever you want and going where you want to go and staying up as late as you want.”
“Kristine let me stay up when she was my nanny,” David says. “Will you let me do that?”
Tricky question.
“We’ll see,” I tell him.
Why not? Even Mary Poppins bent the rules, I think.
“Maybe if you’re behaved.”
David frowns.
“You don’t like that word, do you? Can you tell me why?”
He keeps quiet.
“I guess the rules can be a bother sometimes. I used to hate them, too. But I found out they were for my own good. If you follow your father’s rules now then you can make your own rules later on.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Why not?”
“You’re just trying to be nice to me so you can stay in this house and have my dad’s money or my dad.”
I arch my eyebrows. “What?”
Is that the impression the previous nannies left him?
“You don’t have to be nice to me. I don’t care. I don’t need a nanny and I definitely don�
�t want one, especially not you.”
All right. I guess he’s finally bared his teeth.
That’s good, though. It’s good that he’s told me how he feels.
I clasp my hands together and approach his bed slowly. “Well, I think it’s good that you don’t need a nanny because I don’t want to be your nanny, either.”
He gives me a puzzled look.
“Frankly, I think you’re old enough to not have a nanny.”
“That’s what I told my dad.”
“But I do think you could use a friend and so could I. I’d love to be your friend.”
“Zombie’s my only friend.”
I glance at the dog. “I’m sure Zombie won’t mind sharing you with me.”
“Well, I don’t want to be your friend,” David says, glaring.
“Why not?”
“Just leave me alone, okay?” David gets off his bed and goes to his fortress, hiding inside the tower.
I exhale. All right. So, maybe this isn’t going to be easy but hey, we’ve only just begun.
I just have to keep trying.
Zombie
Randall
“I’m trying, okay?” I tell Gil over the phone as I swivel my leather chair and put my feet up on the bottom drawer of my mahogany desk. Gil is the CEO of another company who also happens to be my good friend and one of my newest business partners. “It’s just like learning another language.”
“You’re probably the only guy I know who doesn’t like computers.”
“Then I’m the only human on this alien planet.”
“Doesn’t that make you the alien?”
I frown, putting my feet down and sitting up. “I know you’re a geek and all but you’re too smart sometimes. You know that?”
“I thought that’s why we get along – because you have the brawns and I have the brains.”
“Ouch.”
“Just kidding.” Gil chuckles. “Speaking of brawns, you weren’t at that Rockets party last night.”
“No. I decided to pass. I didn’t have a good reason to go.”
“There were a lot of women.”
“I know. I bet you brought one of them home.”
Gil doesn’t comment on that, only letting out another chuckle.
I really bet he did, though. Gil may not be muscled like me but he’s got – what do you call it? – finesse.