Page 17 of The Nanny and the Hothead
Sixty days. Live-in nanny position. Two thousand dollars a week. At the end of that time, either party could choose to end the contract—no questions asked.
Charlotte nodded. “How many children would I be looking after—if hypothetically, I got the job?”
She had to ask. This might be her only way to pay the bills. It was that or run after Sutton Bryan and sink to her knees and beg the blathering orange bullfrog to give her back her job, which she was not about to do. Plus, there was an excellent chance she’d fall on her ass if she tried to kneel in the mermaid getup.
“One. A little boy. He’s six,” Madelyn replied.
Charlotte held the woman’s gaze. “The same age as Phoebe.”
“That’s right.”
Charlotte twisted the wet tail of her braid. Was she doing this? Was she considering it? Before she fell down the rabbit hole of questioning what she was supposed to do, Madelyn plucked a small, velvet pouch from her zillion-dollar purse.
“I’m structuring your nanny/employer introduction a bit differently.” The woman opened the pouch and removed a necklace. “Turn around, dear.”
As if she were under a spell, Charlotte complied.
“I’d like you to wear this necklace,” the woman finished.
The clasp clicked, and Charlotte peered down at a golden key dangling between her shell-clad breasts. Madelyn then removed a card from her bag.
“Take this,” she said.
Charlotte’s fingers trembled as she accepted it—and it wasn’t from the chill. This felt like a crossroads. And then she turned the card over and read the address, and the breath caught in her throat. “I know this place,” she answered, astonishment coating her words.
What were the chances?
It was the same location as the speed date event.
Madelyn maintained a neutral expression. “It’s a bar. A public place in the Crystal Creek business district. I’ve instructed my client to meet you there. He’ll find you with that,” the woman said, gesturing to the key.
A public place was a safe place to meet. But unease twisted in her belly. “I’m not sure if nannying is for me. I know how things worked out for Penny, but I—”
“You have dreams of becoming a famous photographer,” Madelyn interjected.
Charlotte weighed the question, then lifted her chin. “I do.”
“Here’s what I’ve learned about dreams, Charlotte,” Madelyn continued. “You see, I’ve been around quite a while, and I’ve helped many people. I think of myself as a facilitator of fate.”
“Fate?” Charlotte echoed. The word hung in the late spring air like a wish upon a star.
“Sometimes, the future needs a nudge in the right direction. That’s where I come in.”
Charlotte stared down at the key, resting against her skin as if it had been there—as if it belonged with her, to her. And a seed of hope bloomed in her chest. Could tonight be the night she got a cushy job making bankandfound her Mr. Cheesy Forever?
She met Madelyn’s gaze. “Why me? Why do you think I’m the right fit?”
“The little boy you’ll be caring for has an artist’s spirit.”
“What’s his name?”
“Oscar,” Madelyn replied.
Charlotte smiled. She couldn’t help it. She’d always loved the name. “Oscar is interested in art?”
“Let’s say that I see that as his calling.”
This woman could sure say a lot without saying anything!
