Page 27 of Faking it with the Billionaire
Not that I couldn’t care for her, but I can’t do an adequate job of watching surveillance footage and making sure that everything is secure while I’m cooking her dinner or getting her ready for a bath before bed.
“We need to settle on a nanny,” I say, gesturing to the file folders spread across the kitchen counter. It’s been hard to pin Kyler down long enough for him to hire someone else.
“Are you leaving, Emmie?” Bristol asks, glancing up from the picture that she’s working on. The kid has a knack for drawing. At six, I was still making stick figures.
“No, sweetie. Your dad and I, we think it would be a good idea for you to have a new nanny,” I say, glancing at Kyler and waiting for him to elaborate. He should be the one explaining to his daughter why he’s hiring a nanny. He never should have lied to her and put me in this predicament in the first place.
“But I don’t want you to leave,” Bristol says, slamming her colored pencil onto the table. “I want Emmie to watch me.”
“And Emerson will be here with you,” Kyler says, bending down to her level, “but she’s my girlfriend,” he says, glancing at me.
My stomach has a thousand tiny butterflies fluttering its wings on his admission. Because it isn’t real, even if he makes me feel things that seem like they are, it’s all a ruse.
And lying again to Bristol doesn’t feel like the right thing to do. She’ll be crushed when she realizes that we’re no longer together because that’s the only viable outcome when everything settles down and Bristol is no longer in danger.
“You’re dating the nanny?” Bristol says. Her eyes widen, and she glances from her dad to me. “Does this mean you’ll be my mom?”
Thankfully, Kyler answers before I have to disappoint the six-year-old.
“No, sweetie. Emerson and I aren’t getting married. We’re just dating, like we talked about. The thing you get to do when you’re thirty.”
Her nose scrunches, and she glances back at me. “Are you sure you want to kiss my daddy? That’s gross.”
A smile grazes my face, and I try my best not to laugh. “Definitely gross,” I say with a wicked grin, “but more importantly, I’m not going anywhere. I’m still going to be here with you and your nanny. But she’s going to help make you dinner when your dad is at his away games and when—”
“Oh, so she’s like a chef!” Bristol says, her eyes lighting up. “Good, because your cooking stinks.”
I never claimed to be the best cook, but I wouldn’t consider my food inedible. Bristol had pushed her food around her plate a bit, but I assumed it was because she was picky.
“I don’t understand why Emmie can’t watch me, and you just hire a really good cook.” Bristol is adamant about my culinary skills lacking.
“Emmie is taking care of some important business matters for me when I’m away. She can’t do that and watch you all the time.” Kyler drops a kiss on his daughter’s forehead.
Emmie?
I press my lips together, finding the nickname far more endearing than M&M. Maybe it’ll stick with Kyler.
“Do you want to vet the list of potential candidates?” Kyler asks, gesturing to the manila folders on the kitchen counter.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I tease, grinning at him as I take a cursory glance through each one. I’ll have to do a more thorough investigation into each potential new hire. More specifically, Eagle Tactical will have to do the background check, but I can stalk the potential candidates on social media and see if any obvious red flags come up with a little minor digging.
Each file has a picture along with the potential candidate’s resume. They are far more impressive than my “nannying” experience, but then again, I never was a nanny, and it had only been to convince Bristol of why I was there and watching over her.
We’ve spent enough time together these past couple of weeks that, hopefully, when I see her off to school and pick her up, she won’t think anything of it.
“Are all the new hires young and gorgeous?” I can’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy seep into my veins. They’re all in their early twenties, the same as me, but they’re cute, and I swear they could all be cheerleaders or whatever type of girl chases after a hockey player.
Do they even have cheerleaders at hockey games?
“I didn’t notice,” Kyler says, and I glance at him, but he’s not smirking. He seems genuine in his acknowledgment. “I’ll let you pick the top three that meet your expectations for my daughter’s safety, and then I’ll interview them.”
“None of them have decades of experience,” I say. I was hoping he’d have picked an older woman, someone he wouldn’t think twice about sleeping or flirting with.
Definitely jealous.
“I suppose not, but I thought that Bristol might bond better with someone younger.”
I bite down on my tongue because I don’t think it’s Bristol he’s thinking of when it comes to bonding with anyone. I grab the stack of files and shove them on top of one another. Grabbing them from the counter, I push them into his chest. “Find someone more qualified.”
