The Nanny (A Billionaire Romance)

by Naomi Niles

  Clucking my tongue softly, I took her fragile hands in my own. "Yes. Why not?"

  "You know he's been in the news these past few days. His nanny was found murdered – in his bedroom." Mama added the last as if the first part of her story wasn't sensational enough.

  Suddenly, it all came back to me, and I couldn't believe I hadn't remembered before. Tate Holland's nanny had been found murdered in his bedroom, and although police didn't have enough evidence to arrest him yet, it was clear he was a suspect. Many people already considered him to be guilty.

  If I had remembered, I probably wouldn't have gone to the interview, but maybe ignorance was bliss. Because I had gone to the interview, I got to see firsthand what a kind man he was. I had been happy to take the job, and that wasn't changing now just because I remembered some gossip about him.

  I patted Mama's hand soothingly. "I know. You worry too much. I seriously doubt he would murder his nanny and then have the nerve to hire a new one just a few days later. It was probably an unfortunate accident."

  All I could think about was how nice he had been to me. He had been so charming when he gave me that sexy smile. And when I thought about how he sweet he was with Halle, and the way his eyes sparkled when he held her, my heart melted. There was no way this man could be a murderer. But my mother's next words gave me pause.

  "I'm not saying he killed her, but the fact remains she did die in that house. Maybe it isn't safe there for any number of reasons." Suddenly, Mama clutched onto me with surprising strength in her fragile hands. "Don't go. If anything happened to you, I don't know what I'd do. You're all I have."

  Mama was all I had, too. She was the one person who meant the world to me, and I'd do anything to get her the care she needed for her treatments. Taking this job may be the difference between life and death for her. Besides, I'd already signed a contract and spent money out of the first check. I was obligated now, but it wasn't what compelled me to take the job.

  I wanted to do it. I liked Halle a lot, and I was absolutely fascinated by Tate. There was something intriguing about him, and I couldn't wait to spend more time with him. Living in that house, I was sure to get plenty of chances, and I couldn't wait.

  Hugging Mama warmly, I promised her "It will be alright. Nothing bad is going to happen to me. This job is a blessing. It's given me the money to make your life better."

  Just then, a knock came at the door. I opened it to find the nurse I’d hired, ready to start work. I welcomed her into the apartment and brought her back to Mama's room.

  "This is my mother, Patricia Clare. Mama, this is Julie Rodriguez. She's going to stay with you from now on as your full-time nurse."

  Mama was shocked at first, but Julie quickly won her over with her caring personality. While they got to know each other, I went to my room and packed a suitcase with everything I thought I would need at the Holland mansion and had Scott carry it down to the car for me. I could definitely get used to having a chauffeur.

  Afterwards, I showed Julie around the apartment and gave her Mama's schedule of medicines and doctor appointments. It was a strange feeling to be handing over her care to someone else. After all, it had been just me for so long; but I trusted Julie and felt a sense of calm relief that I was leaving my mother in good hands.

  "Goodbye, Mama." I gave my mother one last parting hug. It was time for me to go. "I love you. I'll come visit you on Sunday, on my day off."

  "You better." Mama pretended to be stern, but tears were glistening in her eyes. "I still don't like the idea of you going to that place. No amount of money is worth putting your life at risk."

  "I'll be fine, Mama. I promise." I kissed her cheek and headed for the door.

  She waved goodbye as I closed it behind me. I only hoped I hadn't just lied to her.

  Chapter Four: Tate

  With a click of a button, I closed out the files on my computer screen. I'd gotten as much done work today as I was going to. I tried to concentrate on business, but too many other thoughts occupied my mind.

  The sun was setting outside my window, and I knew my security guard, Scott, should be coming back any minute with Rachelle. She was going to be the perfect nanny. She'd looked so beautiful sitting here in my office during her interview, nervously crossing and uncrossing those long, sexy legs. I don't think she even realized she was doing it, she was so desperate for the job, but she didn't need to be. She was smart, sweet-natured, and very well qualified. Halle liked her, and so did I. This was going to be a perfect arrangement.

  "Hey, are ya busy?" an obnoxious voice called out from the doorway to my office. I didn't even have to look over. I knew it was the one person I dreaded seeing, and yet I couldn't turn her away: Halle's junkie mother, Missy Stevens.

  I'd first met Missy when my friend Jake Reiner was getting married. I'd been in charge of hiring the stripper for his bachelor party. I'd interviewed plenty, but Missy Stevens had really stood out for me. She'd been just twenty-one at the time, young, beautiful, with a smoking hot body.

  She gave me a private show right in my office. She was trashy with her dyed hair, excessive eyeliner, and ripped stockings, but that was just the vibe I was looking for to send my buddy off to marriage, so I hired her for the party.

  The guys loved her act, and Missy even stayed afterward, flirting shamelessly and hoping to score some more gigs. I was having a good time, too, but sometime over the course of the night, somebody must have slipped something into my drink because I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and Missy laying naked beside me. I had no memory of having fucked her, but it was obvious that I had. So I threw some money down on the ground beside her and left, thinking I'd never see her again.

  Twelve weeks later, she showed up at my house again.

  "I'm pregnant," she announced. I’d had her escorted off the premises. It didn't work, and she kept showing up at business meetings and restaurants; anywhere I went, she was there.

  "I'm going to need a paternity test before I give you dime," I grabbed her by the arm and whispered in her ear.

  The test proved it. The baby she'd given birth to was mine. Halle Marie Holland. She had a head full of dark curls from the day she was born, and her hazel green eyes were an exact replica of my own. From the moment I held her in my arms, I knew I was in love.

  "Get your damn hands off that baby. She's mine!" Missy snatched the infant from my arms. She was staying in a crappy studio apartment with stained carpeting a single light bulb hanging from a bare wire in the middle of the ceiling.

  "She's mine, too. You made sure to get me involved, so why are you now acting like you don't want me to have any part in this?" I was baffled.

  "You haven't paid for her yet," Missy snapped. I was utterly taken aback by her heartlessness.

  "She's a baby. She's not for sale." For the first time in my life, I wanted to slap a woman, but she was still holding Halle, so I restrained myself.

  "Yeah, well, kids take a lot of fucking money to raise. There's diapers and milk and clothes."

  "You mean formula." I couldn't believe this stupid bitch didn't even know what to feed our baby. If I left Halle alone in Missy's care, the infant would probably suffer from malnutrition.

  "Yeah, whatever. When I see a fucking check, that's when you'll see your damn kid." Missy threw open the door of her apartment, asking me to leave, but I wouldn't budge. As she held the door, the track marks on her arm were clearly visible. There was no way I was leaving my daughter in the custody of a drug addict.

  "How much do you need?" My voice was angry. I hated giving anything to this bitch, but my daughter's life was at stake, so I was willing to do the unthinkable.

  "Let me think." Missy twisted a piece of her blue-black hair thoughtfully. "The landlord says I gotta catch up two months' rent or I'm out on the street. My car got repossessed, so I need a new one. I gotta have electricity, cable, and fucking groceries."

  She was adding the numbers up in her head, and I could see this list could
go on forever. Meanwhile, Halle was starting to cry in her arms.

  "I've got a better idea. Why don't you come stay at my place with me?"

  "With you?" She eyed me up and down, and I immediately had to dispel her illusions.

  "Not with me. In the guest bedroom. You can have your own suite, access to a chauffeured car, gourmet meals prepared by a private chef. I'll even give you an allowance for personal expenses."

  "What's in it for you?" She was suspicious, but I could see she was tempted.

  "I get to know my daughter is safe and spend time with her."

  "Good because I got moral standards. No sick sex games, and I only strip when I get paid." The irony of her words was lost on her, but I'd gotten what I wanted. Missy and Halle moved into my mansion, and I knew my daughter wasn't living out on the streets, being neglected by some junkie.

  Life in my mansion suited Missy. She had all the comforts and none of the responsibilities of being a millionaire. Every night, she'd go out with friends and not come home until dawn. She'd sleep until after noon. Maybe she'd see Halle for a few minutes in the evening before going out again.

  The little girl hardly even knew who the strange woman with blue-black hair and dark-lined eyes was, and that suited me fine. Halle was my daughter. I loved her and cared for her. I tucked her in at night and played with her every day. I spared no expense in caring for her, with full-time nannies and the best of everything money could buy. That included supporting her junkie mother, but it was worth the sacrifice to know Halle was safe.

  Now, just three years later, I hardly saw Missy at all. She lived her own life in a separate part of the mansion. The only time she showed her face was when she wanted something. I dreaded our infrequent interactions, but for Halle, I was willing to endure them.

  "What do you want, Missy?" I asked as the devil herself entered my office.

  "I need some more money. The allowance you give me isn't enough." She plopped down into the guest chair and propped her feet up on my desk. Her skin had become a sickly shade of yellow, and she was skinny to the point of looking gaunt. I wondered when the last time was that she'd eaten.

  She was wearing an extremely short black leather skirt and a red tank top advertising beer, but the clothes hung on her bony frame like rags. Her blue-black hair was styled in long, chunky layers, but it had been days since she'd brushed or washed it. It made me sick to see how this once beautiful woman had destroyed herself.

  "What for?" I asked, knowing full well she needed it to buy drugs. Her whole body was twitching with the effects of her addiction.

  Soon, she'd be dead of an overdose or killed by some drug dealer or one of her junkie friends. I'd tried getting her counseling. I'd even forced her into several treatment facilities, but she didn't want to be cured, so it was money down the drain. Eventually, I gave up. If she didn't want to save herself, there was nothing I could do about it.

  "It's none of your damn business what I do with my life," Missy snapped. Her nostrils were flaring now. She was itching for a fix bad, and if I didn't give her the means to get it, she would do something drastic to get it. She was capable of anything: theft, blackmail, prostitution. She might try to hurt herself, or even Halle. I had to make sure that didn't happen.

  "How much do you need?"

  She gave me the amount, and I set out double in cash on the desk in front of her. She snatched it up like a greedy squirrel and shoved it into her bra.

  "Thanks." She headed for the door. Now that she had what she wanted, there was no need for further conversation. She paused at the window, peered out, and said, "Hey, your new piece of meat is back."

  It took me moment to realize she meant Rachelle. Missy pulled out a cigarette from her pack and lit it as she gazed out the window at Rachelle walking up the front steps. I hated tobacco smoke, and she knew it, but I decided to ignore the petty annoyance.

  Missy blew out a trail of smoke. "She's cute. You got the same arrangement with her that you had with the last one?"

  "It's none of your damn business what I do with my life," I said, stoically mocking her from moments ago.

  "Fine. Don't tell me, but I know what goes on this house, you sick son-of-bitch." Missy blew her smoke right in my face, and I stood up from behind my desk to face her.

  She pushed me in the chest and said, "That's why I don't let you touch me, and if she were smart, she wouldn't, either. Tell me, does she know that what happened to the last one could happen to her if she does? Maybe I should warn her. Someone has to tell these naive young girls you keep bringing in here what a sick pervert you are. I could save her life by warning her away from you."

  I grabbed Missy hard by the wrist, squeezing it until her eyes grew wide. I didn't want to her hurt her, just get her attention. "Careful, or I'll cut you off."

  "You wouldn't dare." I released her arm, and she held it protectively to her chest, rubbing her wrist with her other hand as if wounded.

  "Wouldn't I? Why don't you find out? Keep pushing and testing me, Missy, and I'll cut you off completely. No money, no mansion, no car, and clothes."

  "You're so heartless, you'd put your daughter and her mother out on the streets?" she spat, but I only laughed.

  "Of course not. I'll keep Halle here with me. You'd be the only one out in the rain."

  "You're a cruel asshole. No wonder everybody thinks you did it."

  "I'm a lot kinder than you think. The only reason you're here is because of my charity. Don't forget that," I said simply and softly. "A judge would give me full custody of Halle, and I wouldn't have to pay you a thing. You owe your life to me – now get out before I take it back."

  "Are you saying you'd have me killed?" Missy said, and I could see real fear in her eyes.

  "I'm just saying that if you're so into watching people, you really ought to watch yourself. Goodnight."

  She turned and fled, and I couldn't help but smirk as I watched her leave. I wasn't like that. I wasn't a man who was threatening or cruel – only with her. She was the only one who drove me to such lows.

  Downstairs, I heard the sounds of Rachelle talking with the maid and the darkness Missy had brought into the room lifted. Here was something beautiful to wipe away the ugliness. While Missy brought out the worst in me, Rachelle would bring out the best. I just knew it.

  Chapter Five: Rachelle

  I woke up in the morning and had to remind myself where I was. The giant bed I'd slept in was the most comfortable I'd ever felt, and my bedroom suite was as large as my entire apartment back home.

  A knock came at the door and the maid, Emma Jenkins, entered the room. Her mousy brown hair was pulled back in a rigid bun. She was wearing a plain black dress with a white apron and had a sour look on her fifty-year-old face.

  I sat up in bed feeling stunned as Emma opened the curtains, letting in the morning light. She set a tray on the bed with a heavy plop. I adjusted it onto my lap and saw it held a cup of gourmet coffee, freshly baked croissants, crisp bacon, eggs, and sliced fruit. Compared to my normal breakfast back home of cold cereal with milk, it was quite the feast, and I felt like a princess.

  "Will I get breakfast in bed every day?" I couldn't believe it. I took a bite of the light and fluffy bread. It was so delicious, I popped half of it my mouth all at once.

  "Sure. Why not? After all, the bed is your favorite place," Emma said meanly. It was very clear she didn't approve of me, and I tried to figure out why. She'd put so much emphasis on the word bed, I wondered if maybe I had slept in for my first day of work.

  "Am I late?" I pushed the tray aside and rushed out of bed. Emma had unpacked my suitcase the night before, and I wasn't sure where any of my things were. She watched without helping as I scrambled through dresser drawers looking for my clothes. Her craggy face seemed almost pleased to see me struggle.

  "Where are my jeans?" I cried out as I slammed shut another drawer.

  "Try the closet." Emma rolled her eyes like I was some sort of idiot. I opened the doors to the
enormous closet, and there they were, hanging neatly next to my other clothes.

  "You could have told me that from the beginning," I snapped at her. I couldn't figure out why she hated me so much.

  "Would you like me help you get dressed?" she asked. "Sometimes Rose needed help with the zippers on the back of her dresses."

  "Thank you, but I can get dressed by myself," I said, not fully trusting her.

  "Okay. Let me know if you need anything else." The offer felt less than sincere.

  "Perhaps you can just let me know where the nursery is. I'm supposed to start taking care of Halle today," I dared to say.

  "Mr. Holland will show you. He'll show you everything." She slammed the bedroom shut behind her as she left.

  "Okay," I sighed to myself, wondering what the hell she had against me.

  I wondered if Emma had treated Rose this way when she helped her dress and did her hair, and suddenly, it occurred to me that they must have been friends. No wonder Emma hated me. She must miss her friend and probably felt like I'd come to replace her. Well, I would just have to do everything in my power to make her feel like she had a new friend in me.

  In the meantime, I had to work. After all, it was my first day on the job. I wasn't sure what my duties would be for the day, but if Halle was like other three-year-olds, it was sure to be messy. Toddlers loved finger-painting, mud pies, and melting ice-cream cones. I'd better wear clothes that were up to the challenge.

  I put on my favorite pair of jeans, a clean blouse, and athletic shoes. I pulled my blonde hair back into a ponytail to keep it out of my face and applied a light brush of lip-gloss to brighten my smile. I was just checking out my appearance in the mirror when there came another knock on my bedroom door.

  "Come in," I called, assuming it was Emma coming to pick up my dirty breakfast dishes.

  "Ready to start the day?" a deep male voice asked, and I startled to see Tate Holland leaning in my doorway.

  "Mr. Holland," I gasped. He looked even more handsome than yesterday, with a faint sheen of stubble on his rugged jaw. He was wearing a dark suit with a green tie that made his hazel eyes dazzle. A smile curved his lips as he looked at me, and I had to struggle to regain my composure.