Page 37 of The Christmas Nanny

Samantha swirled the wine in her glass. “You don’t want to know what he does to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Christine said.

“Finally.” I was beginning to think Quartermain had paid her to keep quiet. “What the fuck was that, Christine?”

“Something changed.” She shrugged, complacent. No big fucking deal. I was losing my mind, and she was playing along. “What happened to your clothes?”

“I like the all-leather look,” Samantha said. “Besides, I can see the outline of your dick.”

I started to answer Christine but turned to Samantha. “Don’t talk like that. We’re your nannies, remember?”

Samantha chuckled. “You are not my nannies. You are my parents’ fuck toys. Think what you want, but you’re a couple of expensive whores for their enjoyment. I’m the excuse as to why you’re here.” She nodded at the window and the heavy snow coming down. “Going to be a cozy few days.”

“We should leave, Christine.”

“I can’t. I won’t pass up the money, Jacob. Once upon a time, I had money like this. Then I didn’t. Now I’m back to having it again.” Christine walked to the window. “I’m sorry.”

“You two didn’t know what you were getting into, did you?” Samantha shook her head and laughed. “Didn’t it ever occur that it was a little weird that billionaires ran a nanny ad for the public? People like them don’t do dumb shit like that unless it’s for another reason.”

“They’re your fucking parents,” I said. “Are you going to be as fucked up as they are?”

“Wow, Quartermain really got under your skin.” Samantha grabbed her glass of wine and sauntered from the room.

“Supposed to be nice to her,” Christine said. ‘You’re going to get us fired.”

“Fuck it. Something isn’t right about her anyway.” I snapped my fingers, but the kitchen help remained by the door. “I’m going to take Slim Shady for a walk before we get snowed in.”

“I’ll join you.”

I held up a hand for Christine to stop. “No. I’ve got this. I need time to think.” I turned to the door.

“Jacob. I like the change.”

I nodded my frustration at Christine. She was going to play the game which meant, as of now, we were on opposite sides if any of that bullshit Quatermain had spewed was true.

Slim Shady and I exited the mansion through the back door and started toward the trees on the back side of the property. We tromped through three inches of snow beneath a starry sky, cold and frustrated. Girl of my dreams? What a fool I’d been. Money spoke louder than words.

We stopped at the river on the opposite side of the woods and sat on a bench beneath a pergola. A heater overhead came on when we sat. “Nice,” I said to Slim. A dim light also came on.

I stared at the water for a while, watching snowflakes hit the silvery stream and disappear. The worst Christmas ever was eleven days away. Four days ago, I had been a businessman. Then, life came out of nowhere and smacked me in the face. Hell, Christine was right. The money was too good to pass up, and working for my father would bring me down even more. I needed to get over myself and enjoy fucking Mrs Quartermain. That’s what I needed to call her. Stephanie was too casual. This was a business transaction. I needed to remember that.

“Not what you thought it would be?” Boris said when I turned to see who was crunching snow underfoot.

“How do you live with those assholes?” I said.

Boris sat beside me and removed his glove, leaving on his hat and coat. He rubbed Slim’s head, and Slim laid down, turning onto his back. Boris obliged Slim and rubbed his belly.

“That may be the easiest question I’m asked all day.” Boris smiled, watching the snow. “When I was a boy, I would come out here and just sit and watch the river. Some days, I could see fish. Other days, like today, the water flowed too swiftly.”

“Where’s your accent?”

Boris chuckled. “You are easily fooled, young man, just like the rest. I’m not British. I was born in Texas during the oil boom.”

“You said you came out here as a boy.” I turned and rested an arm on the back of the bench. “Who are you?”

“My name is Arthur Renaldo Quartermain.”

“Wait.”

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