Page 7 of Fifth Avenue Fling

“The salary per month.”

My breath hitches as I do a double take. “Is the dot in the wrong place?”

He chuckles and takes a sip of his Guinness. “It’s a live-in position in Manhattan, with unsocial hours. My employer wants to compensate for that.”

“Absolutely not.” I slide the paper back to him in disgust. “I’m notservicingsome rich, old perv.”

“You’re right to be apprehensive, I understand. But there’s nothing inappropriate about the position. You’ll be a nanny…” He pauses. “An assistant in his house and nothing more.”

“A naked nanny,” I scoff. Visions of me cradling a man in diapers while he suckles my breasts flood my mind.

He fights a smile and repeats my words back to me. “Absolutely not. You’re a cynical one, I see.”

I narrow my eyes at him, unconvinced. Maybe his rich employer has an Irish fetish. My duties will includemurmuring‘top o’ the mornin’ to ya’ as I rock some old fella to sleep.

My suited fairy godfather Marcus leans in, his hands interlocked on the table. “If you take this opportunity,”—he smirks at me—“and you’d be a fool not to, given your circumstances, you’d be working for the Quinn & Wolfe Group. You can ask the HR team any questions you need to feel reassured. Just be ready to go into the office to sign the contract and fill in the visa forms.”

“Visa?” I repeat breathlessly. My new friend is playing a cruel joke on me.

“Yes, Clodagh,” he says, tilting his head down to write something else on his pad. He knows he’s got me, hook, line, and sinker. “HR will contact you to arrange a time tomorrow.”

With my jaw hanging open, I watch him scribble down a phone number.

My brow furrows deeper as my heart races.

I so, so,sowant to believe this story but…

“Let me get this straight,” I say slowly. “You’re telling me that you’re willing to give a random barmaid in Queens a visa, accommodation in Manhattan, and an obscene amount of money to work as a fancy nanny maid for your rich boss?” I pause, searching his face. “All because you have afeelingabout me?”

This earns me a chuckle. He relaxes back in his chair again. “It’s not as glamorous as it sounds. My employer is paying someone to be at his beck and call in his home. Believe me, it’s a tough job. I need someone who can start right away and has no commitments.” He gives me what I can only call a wolfish smile. “Frankly, I know you’re desperate enough that you’ll try to stick it out.”

I swallow hard. “Why is it urgent now? What happened to the last nanny maid? Did he murder them?”

Another chuckle. “You’re cute. He might like you. His full-time domestic assistant had to go out of state to look after her daughter. It was unexpected, and he needs a fill-in pronto. There were a few other nannies after, but…”

“But?” I raise my voice. They’re in the attic. Dead.

He waves his hand as if the information is irrelevant.

Hmm.

I’m living in my own damn fairy tale. Except…

“My visa runs out inseven days.” I blow out through my cheeks. “Even if this is legit, it’s too late.”

He dismisses that with another wave. “We’ll expedite your visa.”

My pulse spikes. Money skips the queue. Just as easy as that.

“We’ll need to vet you, of course. Medical examinations, etc.”

“Vet me?” I try to keep my expression neutral. “Vetting… like a criminal record check?”

“Yes.” He scans my face. “Does that concern you?”

Fuck.

“Of course not.”

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