The Billionaire's Super Nanny (A BWWM Romance)

by Tiana Cole

  When he returned later that night, he handed me an envelope from the state and I almost threw it away. But their rejection didn’t matter now. I was pregnant and finding out the baby’s sex at the end of the week. Nothing the state had to say could put a damper on my life.

  Nothing.

  I sat down in the recliner in the sitting room, listening to the kids playing upstairs and sitting across from Taylor.

  “Are you going to open it?”

  “What’s the point?”

  Taylor shrugged.

  “At the very least, if they rejected you again, you can respond that you’re moving forward with your own pregnancy and ask them to take you off the list.”

  “That’s true.”

  I ripped open the envelope, unfolding the paper and reading the first few lines before I realized what I was seeing.

  “Oh wow,” I said.

  A single photograph slipped out from between the sheets of paper and onto my lap. A little girl around five smiled into the camera, a single missing tooth in her brilliant smile. Her corkscrew curls bounced around her beautiful face, and eyes as dark as her chocolate skin stared into the very depths of my soul.

  I burst to tears almost instantly. How cruel was fate that this little girl had finally been matched with a potential forever home only to find that it wouldn’t happen?

  I buried my face in my hands, picture still sitting in my lap. I felt Taylor sit on the love seat beside me, and I felt his strong arms around me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s not a rejection. There’s a child available to adopt that I’d be a perfect match for.”

  “That’s good news, isn’t it?”

  “Not now.”

  “Why not now?”’

  “Because everything has changed.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh? What do you mean, ‘oh’?”

  “Well, it’s just that the Zeya Sparks I know wouldn’t let anything stop her from getting what she wants.”

  “But then we’ll have four kids when I have this baby.”

  Taylor’s arms squeezed me tight and he kissed my cheek.

  “I was kind of hoping to keep going until we had at least ten.”

  I jabbed my elbow into him playfully.

  “Ten is too many.”

  He reached over, gently taking the photo out of my lap and looking at the little girl with the bright smile. He flipped the picture over.

  “Amariah. I like that name.”

  I stared at him for a moment, holding the picture in his hand. He brushed his thumb over Amariah’s cheek and looked up at me.

  “If you don’t want to adopt a child anymore, I’ll understand. I just think that some things are meant to be and—”

  I threw my arms around him, kissing him roughly on the mouth.

  “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” he said when I finally pulled away.

  “I’m going to call the social worker right now.”

  “I’ll start moving stuff out of the guestroom.”

  I stopped mid-dial. His expression was wicked and challenging. He was daring me to argue with him, but I wasn’t about to. I’d spent every night in his bed since we left for Europe and continued when we moved back to New York. I didn’t know why I was keeping a few things in my old room, and he was right. It was time to let go.

  “You know that living with me and sleeping in my bed doesn’t mean that you’re not still an independent woman.”

  “It’s hard for me to commit one hundred percent.”

  “I know. But I think this is the perfect time. When we find out whether we’re having a boy or girl this week, we can start on the nursery off the master bedroom. We’ll have room for everyone and then some.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. A single tear slipped down my cheek. I felt Taylor’s thumb brush it aside and his hand tilt my chin up to kiss me softly.

  “Why the tears?”

  “I’m just so very, very happy.”

  “I’m glad,” Taylor said. “If making you happy is the only thing I accomplish in this life, then I can die a happy man.”

  I finished dialing the phone. Two weeks had already passed since the mail had been delivered to my house. My hands shook as I waited for the call to connect. What if someone had already adopted her? What if she’d already been placed in another foster home and was still getting settled? Would it be too much for her to be adjusting to a new home already and then be moved again without warning? All these fears and more went through my head as I waited for what seemed like an eternity for the call to go through and someone on the other line to pick up. The social worker picked it up on the second ring. The conversation was quick, and as I suspected, Amariah needed a home immediately; the sooner the better. She had been in a group home for the last month, and they were having a hard time placing her with a new foster family.

  “Why is she having such a hard time?”

  “She’s a little headstrong, and she’s wise beyond her years. People are expecting a cuddly six-year-old, and Amariah isn’t fitting into their expectations.”

  “Well, we don’t have rigid expectations here. She can come as she is, and we’ll love her just the way she is.”

  “We?”

  “It’s a long story. My life has changed quite a bit since we last spoke.”

  “That’s fine. We really aren’t in a position to be too picky, and you’ve been cleared more than once to adopt.”

  I ignored the picky comment, and fought the urge to go over how many times I was “cleared” yet still rejected. The system was broken, but I knew that long before I was old enough to consider adopting a foster child myself. It wasn’t this woman’s fault, and I wasn’t about to open that can of worms and risk ruining my shot at adopting this beautiful child.

  “I can bring her to you. Is your address still the same?”

  “No, I don’t live in the Village anymore,” I ventured, trying to ease into all the changes that had happened since my last rejection letter.

  “Can I have your new address so I can update our system, please?”

  I rattled off the address and there was stunned silence on the other end of the line.

  “You live out in East Hampton?”

  “Yes. With Taylor Stephens.”

  More silence.

  “The Taylor Stephens?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, wow.”

  Her voice was breathless, but I stifled my laughter. To me, he was just Taylor. Sweet, dependable, aggravating Taylor.

  “Are you still willing to take on a foster child?”

  “More than willing. And we have everything she needs and more. When can we meet her?”

  “Tonight. She’ll bring her things.”

  My heart tore, but I knew the pain would be short-lived. I’d been that little girl; excited to meet my new family only to be dropped off by an overwhelmed case worker. With only what I could carry in my backpack, I would start life over again without any time to transition. I had survived it, but I couldn’t imagine what Amariah was feeling. She must be terrified.

  “Wait, don’t hang up.”

  “Ms. Sparks, I have a lot to do. She’ll be there around five tonight.”

  “That’s great, but I have to ask you; do you know what she likes?”

  “What she likes?”

  “Yes.” I tried to keep my aggravation out of my voice. I understood the woman had hundreds of kids she worked with each year. But she had to know something about this little girl.

  I heard a ruffling of paper before she answered.

  “Here it is. She likes butterflies and dinosaurs.”

  “That’s a quirky combination.”

  “She’s a quirky kind of girl. That’s why I knew you’d be perfect for each other.”

  She hung up without saying goodbye and I went to work. I had a lot to do in just five short hours.

  ***

  There was a knock at the door a few minutes before fi
ve. I forced myself to walk to the door, my heart pounding with excitement. The little girl from the picture stared back at me. The social worker made a quick introduction and looked at her watch.

  She knelt down, looking into Amariah’s eyes.

  “This home is going to be wonderful. Trust me.”

  “You said that last time.”

  “I know I did. But this time, you’ll see. Just give it a chance.”

  “This home is bigger. Maybe that’s what makes it better?”

  “I’m sure that’s not the only thing,” the social worker said, smiling down at the little girl as she gazed up in awe at the grand entryway.

  The social worker hugged Amariah and hurried down the walkway to her car. I held my hand out to Amariah and she took it. Her tiny hand disappeared in mine, and I had to slow my footsteps to match hers.

  “Do I have to call you Mommy?”

  “You can. Or you can call me Zeya. It’s up to you.”

  “Are there more kids here?”

  “There are two other kids.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why do you look so sad about that?”

  “Do I have to share a room?”

  I chuckled softly, but I knew what she meant. I squatted down so that I was eye-level with her, taking both her hands in mine and looking into her eyes.

  “I was a foster kid, too. Did you know that?”

  “No.”

  “I had to share my room with other kids all the time and I hated it. And I never stayed at the same house for long. I know things are scary, but those days of being stuck in a room with five other kids and moving every few months are over.”

  “I heard that before,” she said.

  “I know you have. And I know it’s going to take time. But this is going to be the start of a new way of life for you, and I’m going to do everything I can to make sure it’s a happy life. We all are.”

  She looked away, her little emotions too intense for her to express. I squeezed her hands and stood. I wanted to hug her so bad, but I had been in her shoes before, and I didn’t want to push her too hard too soon. I settled for a subject I knew would delight her.

  “Come with me. I want to show you where you’ll be staying.”

  She followed me silently.

  “Have you ever had your own room before?”

  “No.”

  She looked around in awe as we walked, but her expression was carefully guarded. If I hadn’t grown up in the same world as her, I would have thought she was emotionless. I might have even been a little hurt by her reaction.

  “Well, here you have your own room. I decorated it myself. I hope you like it.”

  Amariah shrugged, walking dutifully beside me. I caught a glimpse of Taylor as we passed the kitchen. He was helping Tara and Tanner make cookies, and giving Amariah a chance to adjust to the house before they were all over her, begging to play with her.

  “Here it is.”

  I pushed the door open and stepped back. Her eyes grew wide and her stoic expression slid away.

  “This is my room?!”

  “It is.”

  She shrieked and ran into the room, jumping onto the bed and flopping onto the thick butterfly covered comforter. It had taken a lot of help, but I’d finished just in time. The room was decorated with wall-to-wall butterflies. The play area had a low table with every imaginable species of plastic dinosaur lined up neatly in a row.

  Amariah jumped off the bed, walking slowly around the room to investigate everything I’d done.

  She stopped at the closet door and looked at me.

  “Can I open this?”

  “You sure can. There isn’t much in there now, because I wasn’t sure what size you wear.”

  “I’m six and I wear a size six,” she proclaimed proudly.

  “Well, then I guessed right. When you get settled, we’ll go shopping for more clothes and shoes. I just got you a couple of things.”

  She pulled open the door and gasped. She looked at me, a withering look that only a first grader could give on her face.

  “Did you know that a couple means two? This is way more than two outfits.”

  “If you don’t like them, I can take them back,” I teased.

  “I love them. I love this room.”

  She spun around, arms flung in the air merrily.

  “Wait until you see your bathroom.”

  “I have my own bathroom?”

  “You do.”

  I took her to the bathroom, now decorated in a festive, salt-water theme. Even the soap dispenser and toothbrush holder were fish themed.

  “I love this,” Amariah said. “I can’t wait to swim in the tub like a mermaid!”

  I made a mental note to buy her a swimsuit in the new mermaid scales print that was so popular right now so she could pretend to be a mermaid.

  “Do you like your new room?” I asked, waiting to hear her final thoughts on the all the work I’d done in such a short period of time.

  “I do,” she said, her voice cautious.

  “Do you think you want to stay here, with us?”

  Amariah looked around the room, surveying her new home seriously.

  “Am I going to have to move again someday?”

  “Do you want to stay here, with our family forever?”

  “I do. But I wanted to stay at the last house, and then I had to move back to the group home and now I’m here.”

  “No one is going to make you leave here, unless you don’t want to stay. If you don’t want to stay, we can talk about it, and see why. But no one is going to just kick you out. As long as you want to stay here, you are part of our family, and our lives won’t be complete without you.”

  “I want to stay here forever.”

  “Then you can stay. We’re really excited to have you here.”

  “My last family was excited. Then my old mom was going to have a baby and they didn’t want me anymore.”

  “That’s not going to happen here. Once a family, always a family.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am. We decided to bring you here when we already knew we were having a baby. And we have two other children. They’re waiting in the dining room with the rest of the family. If you’re ready to meet them, Tara and Tanner are very excited to meet you. Would you like that?”

  She nodded and I held out my hand. She slipped her tiny hand into mine again, looking up to me with those big brown eyes and melting my heart.

  “Zeya?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is the best room I’ve ever lived in. I love the whole thing.”

  “I’m glad. I want you to be happy here.”

  “Can I ask for just one thing?”

  “Of course you can. You can ask for anything you want and we’ll do our best.”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything. What did you have in mind?”

  She looked around, her little scrunched nose so cute as she gathered up the courage to ask for whatever it was.

  “Can I have a pony?”

  Epilogue

  Zeya

  One Year Later

  “You’re on the air with Zeya Sparks.”

  I listened carefully to the caller as she poured her heart out. Her problem was nothing new, but they never were. In this fast-paced world where everyone was chasing the almighty dollar and we were bombarded with technology from every angle, the parenting problems we all faced were as old as time.

  When she finished, I gave her my standard advice, peppering in some personalized tips to help her family overcome their current obstacle and come out stronger and more balanced on the other side. She listened carefully, thanked me and said goodbye.

  There was a light tap on the window and I turned to see Taylor, standing there with Zeke in his arms as I signed off for the day. I waved at Zeke, who smiled and kicked his legs with excitement when he saw me. At seven months old, he was the smartest, most advanced baby who ever lived.

  Or I was biased
and my kid was normal. I was biased and I knew it, but I had to admit that—bias not withstanding—Zeke was definitely the handsomest little guy I’d ever laid eyes on.

  I shut down the equipment, sashaying out of the room and scooping Zeke out of Taylor’s arms.

  “Is it here yet?” I asked, a little more excited than I thought I would be.

  “The delivery truck just arrived. They’re putting it together now, and it should be done long before the kids get home from school.”

  “They’re going to be so excited.”

  “They are? I’m excited.”

  He kissed my forehead and gave Zeke’s fat cheek a little pinch.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind living so far from the city now?”

  “Not at all. Commuting to work once a week in the chopper is no big deal. And the kids love the new school. It was the right decision to move.”

  “I’m glad you’re happy,” I said, and I meant it. “I’ve always wanted to live upstate. And with all the memories the kids had of growing up in that house, I think you did the right thing.”

  “I know Sonja thinks so, too.”

  I laughed softly, remembering the look on the sweet woman’s face when Taylor had signed over the house to her, along with a sizeable bank account so that she would never have to work again. He called it a retirement present, but I knew it was so much more. Sonja was practically his mother, and I knew that Taylor had been looking for a way to honor her place in his life. What better way than to gift her with a mansion and a hefty retirement fund?

  The only downfall had been the kids moving away from the stable where they took riding lessons. For a long time, we tried to make it down once or twice a month, but it was a far cry from the weekly lessons they’d come to enjoy. But between the wedding and having Zeke a month after that, it became harder and harder to make that drive.

  Amariah had taken it the hardest, but I had a plan that would make everything right, and I knew that Amariah would agree.

  “Can we go look?”

  “We can. The second shipment will be here right before the kids get home from school.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  I was so excited. It was silly, I know. But I was still getting used to being a billionaire’s wife, and all the things that came with that.