The Bidding War (69th St. Bad Boys Book 2)

by Chance Carter

  “Yes, your honor.”

  “And you’re a single parent?”

  “Yes I am.”

  “And what is your occupation, Mr. Eastwood?”

  “I’m a Wall Street trader.”

  “That’s a very high intensity occupation, is it not?”

  “I’d say it is, yes, sir.”

  “Do you find your job to be very challenging?”

  “Yes, sir, I do, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have time for my son.”

  He lifts his hand to stop me talking out of turn. “You’ll have time to tell your part of the story, Mr. Eastwood. I promise you that. Just let me get through all the State’s facts first.”

  “Yes, your honor,” I say.

  He nods and ruffles through a pile of documents. He goes through Brady’s medical records first. Brady hasn’t had any illness or injuries other than what you’d expect for a boy his age. His school records come next, which are all excellent. His behavior reports are all very good too. He’s been in trouble here and there for a few small things but nothing I’d consider serious. His attendance record is very good also. It takes quite a while to get through all of it and I can see from the judge’s face that he’s struggling to find any problems with Brady’s life that would justify this sort of court hearing.

  “These tardiness notes, Mr. Eastwood. Would you care to comment on those?”

  “I drive Brady to school every morning myself, your honor. He attends a private school on Park Avenue and as I’m sure you’re aware, the traffic around there can be unpredictable at times. I admit, we struggle to get to school on time, but we’re always just a few minutes late and it’s never for any reason other than our own carelessness. I’m sure it’s a nuisance to his teachers but we’re working on it, I promise you.”

  The judge nods and takes some notes.

  He lets out a sigh and looks at the clock. It’s three thirty, an hour and a half since the beginning of the hearing, and he really can’t find any serious problems in Brady’s life. I know it.

  “What about a mother figure?” the judge asks.

  “Well, his mother died.”

  “And you’re currently unmarried, Mr. Eastwood?”

  “I am, your honor.”

  “Is there a woman in your life?”

  “No, your honor.”

  “And what about a nanny, or a female presence, in Brady’s life?”

  “I didn’t think we needed a nanny, your honor, but if the court thinks my son would benefit from one, I’d happily hire one.”

  “You’d want to make sure she’s a responsible professional.”

  “I’d have her thoroughly vetted, your honor. Believe me, in my world that’s par for the course.”

  The judge nods.

  “Well, Mr. Eastwood, all I can really say is that it appears to me that you’re a perfectly competent and loving father. I have absolutely no idea why CPS referred this case to me and the fact they only submitted documents and didn’t send a representative suggests they don’t have any idea either. Sometimes these things come before the court when there really wasn’t any need in the first place. I think I’m happy to conclude that’s the case in this instance.”

  I almost burst out crying, I’m so relieved.

  “Thank you, your honor.”

  “I will say, I’d like to see Brady getting to school on time. It’s important for his own sense of order. I also think it would be helpful if there was a female presence in the home. Your willingness to hire a nanny puts my mind at ease in that regard. If you could inform CPS when you’ve hired a nanny, including confirmation that you’ve had her professionally vetted, I think that would be satisfactory.”

  I can’t believe its all over. There’s a part of me that’s angry at CPS for putting me through this for no reason but the fact it’s over now outweighs that anger a million times over.

  “Yes, your honor,” I say, before leaving the courtroom.

  When I get back out to the corridor, I don’t know what to do with myself. I want to leap for joy. I look at my watch to see if Brady’s school is out yet. It is but I remember he’s at soccer practice with his friend, Billy. I decide to go there and watch him play.

  On the way I call Lucy from my car.

  “So, what happened?” she says.

  “The judge says he doesn’t even know why I was flagged. I’m a great father.”

  “Of course he did, Wes. You’re the best father in the world!”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “So, I take it you’re not coming back into the office.”

  “No, I’m going to watch Brady’s soccer practice. I’ll catch up with you in the morning.”

  “Ok, sir. Probably for the best. Things are pretty low here right now.”

  “Low? Why?”

  “Oh, you didn’t hear?”

  “Hear what?”

  “We lost Dairy Technics. Clive outsmarted the bidding team while you were tied up in the hearing. It was brutal. He didn’t even outbid our max. He just timed everything better.”

  I knew if I’d been there to watch over things that wouldn’t have happened, but I couldn’t bring myself to care at that moment. There are more important things in life than business.

  “Well, we’ll sort it out tomorrow, Lucy. Tell everyone to go home. Call it a day. You all have families, right!”

  Chapter 11

  Cherri

  “Kelsey, how am I going to make ends meet?”

  “Oh come on, girl, don’t worry, we’ll figure something out.”

  I look at her and smile, trying not to let my anxiety get the better of me. We’re in a coffee shop around the corner from her apartment with two massive coffee drinks that look more like desserts than coffees in front of us. I use my spoon to take some whipped cream off the top of mine.

  “What’s it like being a nanny?” I say.

  “It’s nice, Cherri. I like it. If you like kids, it’s a perfect way to make an income.”

  I look at her and try to picture her at her job. She’s always so silly and misbehaved when she’s with me. What kind of people would put their children in her care?

  “Tell me again about your family?” I say. “The Wilsons?”

  “Well, the mom’s an attorney. She’s pretty high-powered and career oriented, but she’s nice, you know. She loves her children, she just has a career and needs to make things work.”

  “And the dad?”

  “Mr. Wilson, well, let’s just say he’s a DILF I’d definitely very much like to F.”

  I laugh and hit her on the arm.

  “You’re so bad.”

  “Well, you asked!”

  “He’s a married man, Kelsey.”

  “Yeah, and I’m a twenty year old girl with an active imagination.”

  “You’d never go for it though, would you?”

  She shakes her head. “I mean, if something happens to Mrs. Wilson and she’s suddenly out of the picture, well then all bets are off.”

  “But while he’s married?”

  “Of course not,” she says. “What do you take me for?”

  “I was just checking,” I say, spooning another scoop of whipped cream from my drink.

  “We can’t all be as innocent as you, Cherri, but I’ve got standards.”

  “Does anything ever happen though, with the other nannies?” I ask, unsure why I’m so preoccupied with this one detail.

  “Oh, you bet! Lots of single dads hire nannies, and you can only imagine what happens then. Like look at us. I’m twenty, you’re nineteen. To a middle aged single dad with no woman in his life, we’re like candy.”

  I cover my mouth to stop myself laughing.

  “It’s true, Cherri, and don’t underestimate the intimacy of being a nanny. If the guy’s single, then it can get pretty complicated really fast. Like you’re in his house all day. You’re seeing his things, his clothes, his bedroom. You’re watching his kid, maybe preparing his food. If he’s a hot guy and
he’s nice to you, it’s very easy to develop serious feelings for a guy in that situation.”

  “Well, I’d just be doing it for the check. If I don’t get a job pronto, I’ll be losing my apartment.”

  “You can always move in with me.”

  “Yeah, thanks. I know. It’s just, you’ve already got two roommates. They wouldn’t be too happy to see me on the sofa every morning.”

  “Then I’d put you in my bed.”

  I smile at her and touch her hand.

  “Thank you for always being such a good friend, Kelsey. I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Well, come on, let’s open this computer and get you signed up for some jobs.”

  I open my laptop. It’s a five year old brick I’ve had since high school but it still works. The coffee shop we’re in, as well as offering the most delicious coffee concoctions you can imagine, also has free wifi.

  “What should I search? I want to be a nanny?” I ask.

  Kelsey nods. “I forget the name of the site I used. I could probably look it up in my email.”

  I shake my head. “I’m sure I’ll find it.”

  I open google and type, “nanny jobs New York city”.

  The first hit is an add that says, “Jobs for young females, NYC. Make serious bucks fast.”

  It doesn’t look like a nanny site but the words ‘serious bucks’ jump out at me. I think of my grandfather and the medical bills he’s facing.

  I click on the ad and make a face at Kelsey.

  A website pops up. It’s all gold and fancy, like the website of some Vegas casino. It asks me to enter my gender and age.

  “Looks kind of scammy, Cherri.”

  “There’s no harm in checking it out,” I say, clicking female and entering nineteen for my age.

  The next question makes my eyes pop.

  “Are you a virgin?”

  “What the hell is this?” I say to Kelsey.

  She looks at me mischievously. “Now I’m curious,” she says.

  I click on yes and the site opens up.

  Prestige Virginity Auctions. Make up to twenty thousand dollars auctioning your virginity online.

  “Holy crap!” Kelsey says, covering her mouth.

  “I bet you wish you’d saved yours,” I say to her, grinning.

  “Oh, sure I do. That’s just the best way imaginable I can think of to lose my virginity.”

  “Twenty grand,” I say to her, and all I can think is that it’s the exact price my grandfather said he’d need for his surgery.

  One night and everything would be taken care of. Well, maybe not everything, but his surgery, and given the fact he needs the surgery to stay alive, that’s a pretty big weight on my mind right now.

  “There’s a video,” Kelsey says.

  I click play on the video and a girl starts talking.

  “So, you want to sell your virginity?” the video says, way too loud.

  I look around the coffee shop, completely mortified, as I turn down the volume. It doesn’t look like anyone overheard us but this video isn’t exactly the type of thing I want to broadcast in public.

  “This is insane,” I say.

  Kelsey shrugs and pulls her earbuds out of her pocket. She puts them into the headphone jack and we each put one in our ear. Then I click play again.

  The girl on the video goes through everything. She seems very excited about the prospect of selling off her virginity, talking about all the hot, rich guys who go for this sort of thing. She says it’s the easiest money she’s ever earned in her life and that she bought a convertible with the cash. She says not only did she end up sleeping with a hotter guy than she would have if she got drunk at a bar and slept with some random, but she got paid for the pleasure.

  In the last line of the video she says, “Come on girls, you’re going to lose it anyway. Why not make it count? Too many girls are giving it up for a lot less.”

  I stop the video and look at Kelsey.

  “Well, that was interesting.”

  “I’ll say,” Kelsey says.

  “Come on, try to remember the address of your nanny company.”

  “Wait,” she says. “Click on the more information button.”

  “What? Why?” I say.

  “I’m curious, Cherri.”

  “Why are you curious?” I lower my voice to a whisper. “You’re not even a virgin.”

  She blushes and I realize for the first time that she’s been less than truthful with me for the past six months.

  “Actually, I am,” she says.

  I look at her and instantly realize she’s not kidding.

  “No way!” I say.

  “It’s true.”

  I start laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “All this time you’ve been lording it over me like I’m some sort of freak for being a virgin, and all along, you are too.”

  She shrugs.

  “Well,” I say, “we’re not seriously considering this.”

  “Why not?” she says.

  I look at her and feel my heart suddenly pounding in my chest. The very thought of doing what this website suggests makes me nervous.

  “Because we’re normal people, Kelsey.”

  “Normal? Really? You’re grandfather needs expensive surgery. My parents are losing their home.”

  “They are?”

  She’d never told me this before.

  “They’re struggling,” she says.

  “And how much would they struggle with the news that their only daughter had sold her most precious gift?”

  “For twenty grand, I think they’d live with it. Plus, they’d never know.”

  I sigh and look again at the website.

  “Come on, get real, Kelsey.”

  Kelsey lets out a little laugh and snaps out of the thoughtful daze she’d fallen into.

  “Sorry. Nanny jobs. Minimum wage, unglamorous, unexciting nanny jobs. Let’s find you one of those.”

  I hit her on the shoulder.

  “Who says mine’s going to be unexciting. I might get a single dad!”

  I move the cursor to close the auction website but Kelsey stops me.

  “Let’s fill it out.”

  “What?”

  “Come on, what’s the worst that can happen?”

  I hit her again on the shoulder. “If it will make you quit bothering me about it,” I giggle.

  Chapter 12

  Cherri

  I’m sitting in the back of a cab, wearing the most professional outfit I own. It’s a prim black skirt that ends just above my knee, a flattering white blouse, and some black loafers. I’ve got my hair tied back and very plain makeup on. I feel like a nice, well-behaved, innocent girl, and I pray that’s what I look like.

  “The Avalon. Sixty-Ninth and Fifth,” the cab driver says, pulling up in front of a really fancy apartment building on Manhattan’s most expensive boulevard.

  I’ve always loved this neighborhood. It’s the home of the Plaza, delicious fancy delis, upscale restaurants, and boutique clothing stores I’ve never been able to afford.

  I look out the window at the apartment building. It really is the quintessential New York, billionaire residence. There are doormen standing in front of the building wearing fancy red bellhop uniforms with gold trim. There’s a red carpet leading to the brass front door, and beautifully pruned bushes along the side of the carpet.

  “I guess this is it,” I say to the driver.

  “You got an interview?” he says.

  “Yes, to be a nanny.”

  He smiles, and I rummage through my purse for the money to pay him.

  “I’ll tell you what, sweetie. This one’s on the house. Good luck with the interview.”

  “Really? I can’t let you do that.”

  “No, I insist. You remind me of my daughter.”

  “Thank you,” I say, and I’m so grateful I almost want to lean forward and hug him.

  I could use
a hug. I’ve always been one to get nervous before a job interview, and this one, for some rich guy’s nanny, is particularly intimidating.

  I know hardly anything about my potential employer. I barely had my name up on the Nanny Express website for an hour when I got the call last night. All they told me about the job was that it was for a single dad in The Avalon. They referred to the Avalon as if it was a place I should have known about. Apparently it contained the most exclusive and expensive apartments in the world, the modern day equivalent of the Palace at Versailles. A place where the apartments were built like fantastic mansions, complete with their own swimming polls, marble fireplaces, and private servants quarters. The father, they told me, was thirty-nine and unmarried. The kid, an eight year old boy.

  I said I’d show up for the interview and here I was.

  I step out of the cab, thanking the driver again, and approach one of the doormen.

  “I’m here to see Wes Eastwood on the fifty-eighth floor,” I say.

  “Certainly, miss,” he says, holding the door open for me. I step inside and there’s a man sitting at a desk. It reminds me of a hotel.

  “I’m here for Mr. Wes Eastwood,” I say again.

  He nods and I can tell he’s been informed of my appointment.

  “You’re going to take the gold elevator at the end there, all the way up to number 58. You can’t miss it.

  “Gold elevator?” I say.

  He nods kindly.

  “Don’t worry. If you get the job you’ll get used to things around here in no time.”

  I nod and step across the marble floor to the beautifully ornate elevator. Once inside, I press the button and then take deep breaths to try and keep my nerves in check.

  The elevator comes to a halt with a ding and the door opens. I stand there, frozen, looking out the open door.

  This is it. Be brave, Cherri.

  I step forward into a beautiful corridor with thick green carpeting and wood paneling. There’s a door at the end with ‘Eastwood’ written above it in gold lettering. I walk up to the door and knock.

  There’s silence and I begin to wonder if I’m at the wrong place. I can’t be. The name is on the door. Maybe it’s the wrong day? What day was I supposed to come?