Page 1 of The Last Thing
CHAPTER ONE
HALLIE
“I got what I deserve!What I should’ve had! What I would have had if you hadn’t slept with that whore of a nanny and destroyed our relationship.”
Rule number one of being a nanny: never get involved with the client.
Unfortunately for her, the quivering girl a few feet from me with tears in her eyes did not get the memo.
To a degree, I feel sorry for her. She obviously knew she was getting in the middle of a marriage, but I don’t think she’s a whore or a gold digger. She’s got a soft heart and fell for the smooth words of a man who was desperate to relive his twenties with the night nanny taking care of his five and three-year-old daughters.
Not a concern for me. Before I started babysitting in high school, my mom had a long talk with me about what behavior was appropriate and inappropriate with the parents, and told me to come to her right away if they ever made me feel uncomfortable. She also plainly told me, no matter what words they say, never getinvolvedwith the parents of the children I babysit—or nanny—for. When I was young, she said it to protectme from predatory men. Now, as an adult, I use that as my hard and fast rule.
Not that I need to worry about it, anyway. My heart is far too locked up to fall for some sweet words and longing looks. But my rule extends beyond matters of the heart, to matters of the body, which I’m happy to partake in.
But never with a client.
As the jilted ex-wife continues screaming at her ex-husband and the nanny-turned-lover, I make my exit, stage right.
These people have taken enough of my time and sanity. When their affair came to light and everything blew up, my job as their daytime nanny was blown to pieces too. I had to say goodbye to two little girls I adored. I cried. They cried. The Brazilian manny the ex-wife revenge hired cried. But the fun didn’t stop there.
Since they’re high-profile people in New York, the press has followed it all, which means no one has wanted to touch me with a ten-foot pole. So, now I have the joyous task of finding another job when my name has been dragged through the trenches with those idiots.
My sister Frannie’s boyfriend, Mark, is the quarterback for the New York Bandits, and though he put my name out to everyone in the Bandits organization, most people already had nannies. Though I’m a backup or babysitter for a few, it’s not full-time income.
I have to come up with some kind of plan, but right now, I’m too exhausted to think of anything.
Theoretically, I could finish my teaching certification and do that, but I got two weeks into my student teaching and realized I hated it. Running a whole classroom brought out my chaotic side in the worst way. Turns out I’m not great with a room full of kids. I like having only a couple of kids at a time. I can bond with themin a different way, and really get to know them. So, I went back to nannying, which I’d done throughout high school and college.
Now I’m here.
Whatever. At least I’m free of all that family drama I didn’t ask to be a part of.
I take a deep breath as I walk down the courthouse steps and pull out my phone.
I laugh at the text I see.
Gran: How did it end? Spill the tea.
I take a right and aim for the nearest subway entrance while typing a text back to my grandmother.
She’s eighty-three going on twenty-eight. She lives her life wild and free and loves a good dramatic story—fiction or reality—and always has a sarcastic quip in response.
Gran is one of my favorite people. She’s off traveling the world, so I don’t get to see her as often as I did when I was young, but it’s the way she’s chosen to spend the rest of her life.
She had a beautiful love story with my grandpa. He died unexpectedly when I was fourteen, and she struggled for years before she found some great widowed friends and started traveling the world with them—living their best lives.
Me: Long story short… it was a lot of drama. The wife got more than the husband wanted her to, and they were in the middle of a screaming match when I left.
Gran: Good for her. She should make him pay. Glad you’re finally free, even though I’ll miss the regular updates.
Me: I’ll try to find some new drama to update you on. Preferably further removed from me. What about you? How’s Greece? What trouble are you getting into?
Rather than a text, my phone buzzes with a call from her. I answer, weaving through the people on the street, and letGran distract me from my career uncertainty and general cranky attitude.
It’s time to let it all go.
I’m going home and getting changed, because most of my favorite people are in the city for the day. We’re going to spend the afternoon at the New York Metros game, and if I’m lucky, we’ll spend the night at our favorite bar, where hopefully I can find a hookup to fuck all the bad energy right out of me.
