Page 21 of The Nanny and the Nerd
She smiled up at him with what he would have sworn was a playful glimmer in her eyes. “I have my ways.”
Bet you do.
This alluringly paper-obsessed woman might be the death of him.
“Yes?” came the snap of a voice, drawing his attention away from the nanny.
The nanny—he’d be smart to remember that. She wasn’t some potential conquest or a one-night stand. She was not for him. Why couldn’t he get this through his head? He could dissect the most complicated computer algorithms. Why couldn’t he stop his mind from drifting every time she smiled?
Penelope tapped the speaker.
Jesus! The school!
“I’m Rowen Gale. I’m here to pick up Phoebe Gale and speak with her teacher,” he stammered like a moron.
“Phoebe Gale in Mrs. Bergen’s class?” the voice pressed.
He released a weary sigh. “Yes, that’s her.”
“I’ll buzz you in. You can head straight to the classroom. They’re expecting you,” the woman replied as the door clicked open. He held it for Penelope, and they entered the building. Bright and cheery, he’d only heard good things about the place. Not to mention he was acquainted with Phoebe’s teacher’s husband, Brennen Bergen. The guy was a former pro skier, and they’d hit the slopes a few times since he’d been back.
“Is Abby Bergen Phoebe’s teacher?” Penelope whispered.
He glanced over at her. If she were a cartoon, she would have had hearts in her eyes. “That’s right.”
“You’re kidding!” she exclaimed.
“No, I don’t do that—humor, that is. It’s not my thing. I’m not very good at it,” he replied as Phoebe’s voice drifted down the hallway.
“Am I in big trouble, Mrs. Bergen?” his niece asked.
“Not at all, honey! We’re meeting to make a plan, and I’ve invited your uncle to help us do that,” Mrs. Bergen replied sweetly.
Despite the teacher’s warm tone, he’d learned that when a teacher says tomake a plan, it was code for extra work for him. He glanced at Penelope, who must have heard it too because she gave him a part cringe, part frown yikes-face. She must know about the make-a-plan ruse as well. At least he wasn’t doing this on his own. He knocked on the side of the door, and the teacher waved them in.
“Hi, Uncle Row!” Phoebe said, running over and jumping into his arms. The kid had enough energy to power the city for a month. Phoebe scrutinized Penelope. “Who’s that lady?”
He looked from Phoebe to the teacher. “This is…”
“I’m Penny. I’m your new nanny. We’ll be hanging out together and having lots of fun,” Penelope said to his niece, who, in return, scowled.
Wonder where she picked that up?
Who else? Him!
Phoebe pinned him with her gaze, turning that little puckered face his way. “Are you going to give her my virtual reality headset?”
“No, your stuff is your stuff. That’s the rule. You know that,” he answered, setting his niece down as the image of his very first handheld video game console, a scuffed-up Game Boy, came to mind, and a tremor worked its way down his spine.
“Phoebe, why don’t you go into the cozy corner and draw a picture while I speak with your uncle and your new nanny,” Mrs. Bergen suggested in that same sugar and spice voice that meant he was screwed.
Phoebe grinned. “Can I draw anything I want?”
“Your choice,” the teacher answered.
Phoebe skipped to the other side of the classroom as the teacher gestured for him to sit at a tiny table. He stared at the itty-bitty chairs. Why the hell didn’t they give teachers any normal-sized furniture?
Penelope set her bag teeming with papers on the table, then settled herself in a chair across from the teacher, and that’s when he noticed his nanny’s dreamy expression. Seriously, what was up with her?
