Page 27 of The Nanny and the Hothead
He ran his hands through his hair. “It was a new sous chef. Now, help me out, Madelyn. What’s the nanny’s name? How will I find her?”
“I took care of that, too,” she said, plucking the card out of the envelope and handing it to him.
But it wasn’t a business card. It was a picture of a necklace with a gold key hanging from a chain.
“Will the nanny candidate be wearing this?” he asked. It was like a Nancy Drew mystery trying to decipher what the hell was going on!
“Yes,” Madelyn answered with a smirk.
“This feels like a wild goose chase,” he muttered.
“Nothing wrong with a wild goose chase every now and then,” she tossed back.
He threw his hands into the air. “Does she know that I’m the employer? Will she be looking for me?”
A whisper of a grin bloomed on Madelyn’s lips. “No.”
His jaw dropped. “No?”
“You like control, Mitch,” she replied.
That would be a duh! Clearly, he craved control.
“You’d be hard-pressed to find a chef who didn’t. It’s who I am. It’s how I live.”
She clucked her tongue. “Not anymore.”
Damn! His brain could explode at any minute!
“Madelyn,” he began, working to keep his tone even. “I get that you have your ways. But how will I find the nanny? I can’t go up to every female in the place and stare at their chest. That’ll get me thrown in jail.”
“I have a distinct feeling you’ll be drawn to each other,” she answered, exiting the RV as a sleek town car pulled up.
“You’re leaving?” he blurted, then climbed out of the RV.
“That’s my ride, dear. Now, hurry inside. I’ll caution you not to drink, Mitch. You’ve got quite a few busy days ahead of you, and I hear the margaritas at this place are quite potent.”
His career and impending parenthood were on the line, and this woman gives him a camper van and sends him on a nanny treasure hunt!
He glanced around wildly. This had to be a joke. “That’s it? That’s the plan? I go in and hope I find this nanny?”
“Have a little faith, Mitch,” she replied as the driver helped her into the car.
Faith. Trust. That shit was for the birds.
With his mouth hanging open as if he wanted to catch every fly in Denver, he watched the nanny match lady’s vehicle disappear into traffic.
“Unbelievable!” he whispered.
Not knowing what else to do, he set his sights on the little bar, then scrubbed his hands down his face. This was it.
It was nanny or bust time.
Five
Mitch
He joggedacross the street toward the bar. With his senses heightened, he scanned the area. He had to be ready. He needed to appear stable and levelheaded. But a rush of topsy-turvy energy pulsed through his veins. And it wasn’t just him. The crisp evening air held an expectancy as if Mother Nature knew something was coming—a change, a transformation. He shook his head, pushing away the bullshit metaphysical musings.
