by S. E. Law
“There are deer and wild sheep in the area?” Regina’s eyes light up and I expect her to giggle with excitement like a little girl.
I smirk a bit.
“Really sweetheart? After this scary fire, that’s your takeaway?”
She grins sheepishly and says, “Sorry.” But she’s definitely not sorry.
I sigh in an over-exaggerated show of great patience.
“They’re really feral sheep and Animal Control does come out once in a while to catch them, if you’re curious. It makes for a funny sight, with all the sheep bleating and running this way and that.”
She giggles.
“They don’t have sheepherding dogs?”
I shake my head.
“Nope. This is Illinois sweetheart, not the Australian Outback. Although, come to think of it, maybe they should get sheepherding dogs. Anyways, the Douglas estate is completely gone now. The houses, the grounds, the landscaping, everything. It’s all gone.”
“Oh my god!” she whispers, her eyes wide.
I nod.
“Thankfully, the firefighters were able to contain the blaze, and we’ve been left relatively untouched. But the air is still filled with soot and ash and will be for some time. They told us to stay indoors until the air clears.”
She sighs.
“But for how long?” she asks, bringing another bite of the omelet to her mouth. “You know how important it is for kids to play outside. They need fresh air and sunshine.”
I nod.
“They’re not sure,” I say. “Probably several weeks.”
Regina’s eyes widen at the news but after a brief pause, she smiles and says, “Is Ursula coming back?”
I shake my head.
“No, my housekeeper has asthma. I told her to stay home with full pay in the meantime.”
Regina smiles.
“Then I guess you’re lucky I’m here, right? It’s just you, me, and the five kids,” she teases.
I look at her, happy that it feels like a family.
“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s just the seven of us.”
She throws me another glowing smile, and my heart flips over. Why does it feel so easy to be with her? It’s stunning to think that we only met a few days ago.
“Can you make anything other than omelets?” she asks.
I grin.
“In fact, I can. I can cook the entire Mama Pasta recipe. I developed a lot of those recipes,” I smirk.
She looks duly impressed, and then her smile becomes easy again.
“Then I look forward to eating your cooking,” she says lightly. “I’m sure it’ll be delicious. Imagine if this becomes long term: you, me, and the kids, and you cooking for us every night.”
In fact, I can’t think of anything nicer. I’d love to have my family gathered around while I serve them a hearty meal. I nod.
“There’s lots of food stockpiled in the house.”
“Oh my god!” she interrupts with a laugh. “Are you a prepper?”
I frown.
“What’s that?”
She laughs again.
“You know, a doomsday prepper. Someone who thinks the apocalypse is coming, so they stock their house with lots of supplies.”
I grin.
“Well I have a lot of stuff although it’s not because of the apocalypse. It’s just because I have five kids, so you go through supplies really fast. Then again, I could probably last a few months without grocery shopping, if not a year. So yeah, I guess you could call me a prepper.”
She laughs easily.
“What if more kids come along?”
I raise my eyebrows at her.
“Well, I’m not sure about that. Five is a lot to handle and I don’t have a mommy for the existing five yet. How would I find a mommy for six?”
But Regina just blushes prettily and looks down. Hell, she’d be a very pretty mommy in her pink negligee with her tummy heavy with a baby. But I don’t say anything. I just smile again, and take her hand. Her eyes flash to me, and her small fingers curl against mine. I’m lucky to have this woman as a nanny, and I mean to keep her by my side.
7
Regina
I stare at the darkness above me and think about him. Ryan. Lately, he seems to be all I can think about. I’m convinced I actually felt his hands as they undressed me. I’d like to think that, at least. Plus, I would have loved to see him shuck off his clothes and jump in bed, but no such luck. Ah well, that’s life.
I wait until Rachel’s hand relaxes in sleep, and then gently disengage myself. She stirs but doesn’t wake. The little girl is absolutely adorable in her small bed, with her lashes like small moons against her chubby cheeks. Across the way, Rufus sleeps soundly too, both fists by his head as if he’s a baby again.
Poor things. They’re so young, and yet they don’t have a mother. My heart aches for these five children. Even Rico, who thinks he’s too old for a nanny. They need a mother more than anything, and I’m desperately trying to fill that hole for them right now.
I rise and tiptoe out of the room, closing the door softly behind me. These kids mean so much to me already, and I’ve only known them a week.
I make my way downstairs and once out of earshot, I let out a sigh. My shoulders fall forward a bit, and I rotate my neck, trying to get the crick out.
A deep voice sounds behind me.
“The last few days have been exhausting for you, haven’t they?”
I turn with a smile and say, “It hasn’t been that bad.”
My breath catches because Ryan looks so damned attractive in casual clothes. He’s wearing a white t-shirt that emphasizes his broad shoulders, and jeans that hang just right off his hips. My mouth goes dry and it’s difficult to swallow, but I manage to smile like a normal person.
One black eyebrow raises.
“You’re not exhausted? I always am, whenever I’m in charge of my kids.”
I smile in admission. “Well, yes, I’m a little tired,” I acknowledge. “But I don’t mind.”
Ryan grins.
“Rico told me you saved Rufus’s life today.”
I giggle. “I think the only real danger was the wine bottle.”
“You have got to explain that one,” the billionaire invites. Then he grips my shoulders and massages them lightly in a distinctly intimate way. I almost pass out from the sensation because it feels so good. “Why don’t I make some tea and you can sit down and relax, Regina?”
I turn around and shoot him an arch look.
“Did you fly the tea in from New York?”
“What?” He’s completely dumbfounded.
I giggle as I say, “The only way I’m going to drink tea right now is if it’s a Long Island iced tea.”
He smiles broadly and says, “You’re something else. Okay, fine then. The adult version. I’ll have to look up the recipe online.”
“Oh God, no!” I say. “We’ll do simple drinks. You bring vodka, and I’ll get the cranberry juice. Fancy cocktails not needed.”
“Deal,” he grins. We busy ourselves in the kitchen and then bring the supplies out to the large living room where there are comfy couches and a coffee table.
Deftly, he pours vodka into a glass.
“Cranberry?” he offers. I nod and Ryan chuckles. “So how did you save my kids from a wine bottle today?”
I giggle while taking a sip of my drink. The vodka is slightly harsh going down, but it hits me right away and I lean my head back on the couch.
“Well, you know your twins are inseparable, right? That’s good news.”
“Really?” he arches one eyebrow. “How is it good?”
“It means Rufus and Rachel usually get into the same trouble, instead of twice the trouble,” I laugh
“Those two are a handful,” he acknowledges, shaking his head.
“Well, you just have to be a little creative, that’s all,” I say. “Anyway, I’d finally gotten Rebecca to take a break from being threatened by an evil
monster, and Ronnie was no longer rescuing her. I set them up with a movie in the playroom and I headed down to check on Rico.”
“I’ll bet he loved that. Rico is twelve going on thirty-five.”
I shake my head at the sarcasm in his voice.
“Actually, your son didn’t mind at all. He was working on his homework diligently, and I told him I’d check in on him to see if he needed help. It was going great.”
Ryan nods and says, “I’m not sure he would have done that with anyone else. You’re a miracle worker, Regina.”
I smile and take another sip of my drink.
“I know.”
He chuckles and his eyes sparkle.
“I like a girl with sass.”
I sass him right back.
“I know you do, boss.”
Ryan really lets go then, a deep belly laugh, and I decide I like the sound. Then I continue with the story.
“So before I get to Rico, I hear Rufus telling Rachel he can’t let go. I peek around the corner and the little boy is hanging from one of the wine bottles from a rack about six feet off the ground. Evidently, he’d overheard you talking about raspberry chocolates being in there somewhere? He and Rachel were searching for them and while he was climbing, he grabbed a bottle and it slid forward, so he was hanging off the ground.”
“But his weight kept it wedged in place?” Ryan laughs.
“Yes! And Rachel was pulling out the bottles on the lower parts of the rack so she could climb up to help, which would have been an even bigger disaster. But then she just told him to let go and she’d catch him.”
“Instead, you rescued them,” Ryan finishes. I smile and take another sip while nodding. The handsome man laughs then. “My son must have heard me describing a bottle of my raspberry chocolate port wine from Lisbon. That’s hilarious. These kids, you never know what they overhear, and what they’re going to do with the information.”
I giggle.
“Well, when you put words like ‘raspberry’ and ‘chocolate’ together within earshot of a child, you’re asking for trouble.”
He chuckles.
“Trust me, with five kids you don’t need to ask for trouble. It’s already there.” He smiles as he says this, the same smile he had at breakfast the other day when the kids came barreling downstairs and nearly tackled him. The love in his eyes clashes with the image of a domineering CEO, but it fits the image of doting father perfectly, and I feel very attracted. There’s something about a strong father figure that’s sexy, and I’m drawn to Ryan. He laughs again when thinking about the shenanigans, revealing that movie star smile.
“You’re managing so well with five,” I tease. “Have you thought about having more?”
Ryan’s answer is immediate.
“Hell no! I have the perfect number of kids already. Any more would cause my blood pressure to spike,” he adds chuckling. “It’s enough trouble as is. They’re costing me so much money, and I’m getting grey hair because of it.”
“I don’t know,” I say teasing. “I think you like a little trouble.”
Ryan shoots me a look that’s somehow meaningful and hungry at once. It’s a very different smile from the pleasant one he had just a moment ago. Warmth spreads through me, and not just from the drink. But he cocks his head, as if thinking, and then speaks again.
“No, I’m serious,” he says. “I definitely don’t want any more children. I’m overwhelmed as is, and can’t imagine adding to my brood. You see how they are. They’re all different from one another, and sometimes, I feel like I’ve got five different personalities to cater to. Except there’s only one of me, so I’m stretched thin. No, no more children for me. Ryan Blythe is done.”
I smile gently.
“Well, at least five different personalities keeps things interesting! Who wants a bunch of boring, straight-laced children anyway? You should count yourself lucky!”
“I suppose when you put it that way…”
“They’re beautiful Ryan,” I say sincerely. “You should be very proud of them. They’re so bright and funny and so much like…” Like you. That’s too overboard, like I’m trying to be a sycophant, and I stop myself just in time. “They’re just wonderful,” I finish. “You’ve done a great job with them.”
He shakes his head.
“No. A bunch of nannies and Ursula have done a great job with them.”
“You’re not giving yourself enough credit,” I say quietly. Then, I feel my cheeks grow hot and I take a sip of my drink to steady myself. “I just mean you’re a great father no matter who might have helped in the process.”
His eyes rove over my face, his gaze taking in everything. Then very slowly, they drop to my heaving breasts, and the look becomes predatory. But when he looks up again, his eyes are the casual blue of a sunny day.
“It means a lot to hear you say that,” Ryan says in a deep tone. “Although, if I could do it all over again, I think I’d stop at two or three children. How do I give away some of my kids?” Then he laughs. “Just kidding of course. Obviously, I wouldn’t trade any of them away. I love them. I swear.”
I laugh.
“I know what you mean. My friend says she’d sell her children for five dollars each.”
He nods, commiserating.
“It’s incredibly tough. Their mom’s not in the picture, and sometimes I feel like I can’t love them enough to make up for what they don’t have.”
I nod.
“Five kids is a lot for anyone, let alone a single dad.”
He nods.
“That’s part of the reason why I don’t want more. But they don’t seem to be too much for you,” Ryan says after a pause. “They bonded with you so quickly, Regina.” I warm even more at his admiration. Maybe it’s the drink making me heady. Either way, my thoughts are turning in completely inappropriate directions.
“Have you always wanted to be a nanny?” he asks idly, swishing the cocktail in his glass. I watch as the pink-tinged liquor swirls, growing a bit dizzy from the mesmerizing display.
“Well, not always,” I say wistfully. “I kind of fell into it after school. I was a French major, and unfortunately, there isn’t a lot of demand for French majors in the real world. Not in this country, at least. I started nannying to pay the bills and it worked because I’m a good fit. I love kids, the kids love me, and I kept getting more jobs. It’s not the most glamorous calling in the world, but I’m glad it found me.”
Ryan looks thoughtful.
“Actually, I disagree,” he says after a moment. “I think you’re the most glamorous woman I’ve ever seen.” My face warms again. What is he talking about? What could possibly be glamorous about me?
But instead of pushing, I change the subject, my cheeks flushed.
“So how does the world’s wealthiest restaurateur end up a single father to five wonderful children?”
He looks down and his gaze grows shuttered. Immediately, I regret asking. It was too much, too soon, and I’ve goofed. I’m about to apologize when he speaks.
“I met Sandy in college,” he says. “It’s your typical story. Fell head over heels with a gorgeous girl, and got married after graduation. We started having kids, and had a few good years together before… Well, things just changed.”
“How so?” I ask gently.
“We grew apart,” he says. “I was busy with my business and Sandy, well, I think Sandy resented being tied down. When she left, she told me she felt she’d missed out on her best years and wanted to have a chance to be young before it was too late.”
“Ah,” I say slowly. “Kind of like a midlife crisis?”
He shakes his head.
“Sort of, except that she’s young. Thirty-five is too young to have a mid-life crisis right? Especially if you’re a fit blonde woman without any wrinkles. Sure, some of it’s Botox, but I thought mid-life crises were for old paunchy men with combovers.”
I shake my head.
“Mid-life crises can happen to anyone a
t anytime, it goes to show.”
Ryan looks rueful.
“I know, but it was a huge shock. I never thought a woman could leave her children, much less five children. I thought mothers were dedicated to their offspring, but Sandy’s just not interested.”
“She sees the kids occasionally though, right?” I ask. The slump in his shoulders tells me the answer before he can respond.
“She…” his voice trails off for a moment. “Well, after the divorce, she moved out of state with her boyfriend and they travel a lot, so it’s been spotty. I mean, she calls occasionally, and she sends gifts for birthdays and Christmas, but actually, it’s been about two years since she’s seen the kids in person.”
I stare at him, stunned. I’ve known the children for less than a week and already can’t imagine spending two months away from them. Two years is another story.
“I’m so sorry,” I say quietly. “That must be really tough.”
He lets out a harsh bark.
“I don’t care about myself. But I hate the look of disappointment in my children’s eyes. Now, they don’t even ask about Sandy anymore,” he says bitterly. “And I think it’s better that way. The two youngest, Rufus and Rachel, basically don’t even remember her.”
I take his hand gently in mine.
“Your kids are wonderful, even if they never see their mother. You’ve done a good job.”
He nods again, staring off into space. Then, he rubs his face with his hands, his shoulders tense. His handsome face is clouded, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen Ryan unsure of himself.
“Thanks, but I don’t know what to tell them, Regina,” he says in a low voice. “How do I tell a six-year-old that her mother can’t come to her birthday party because she planned a trip to Hawaii the same week and doesn’t want to cancel? How do I look my son in the eye and tell him his mother loves him, when she can’t be bothered to visit even for a day?”
He is silent for a moment and then says bitterly, “That selfish bitch.” Even though he doesn’t raise his voice, it’s heart-breaking. He swallows heavily before continuing, his expression grim. “I shouldn’t be angry at Sandy, but I am. I don’t give a fuck if she cares about me, but she should make time for our kids. Between flying to Belize and clubbing with her skanky friends, she should do something for Rico, Rufus, Rachel, Rebecca and Ronnie. But she doesn’t give a shit.”