Page 19 of Nanny For The Billionaire Bosshole

“Um,” I say, “Joyce could have told me.”

“Dude!” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re angry because I’m here, but otherwise Joyce wouldn’t have been able to come in to work. Wouldn’t that have been worse?”

I narrow my eyes, and she looks at me with the same intensity.

“It’s Sophia, right?” I ask, and one more time, she nods in reply. “Sophia, I might look like it, but I assure you I am not a monster. Joyce told me she had responsibilities before I hired her, okay?”

“Then why are you angry I’m here?” Sophia asks, pouting.

“Because she didn’t let me know!” I say, raising my voice a little more than I intended.

“Why are you so angry?” she repeats, once again with a pout, and the longest of faces.

“I’mnotangry!” I say, leaning back, defensive.

“Joyce is a good girl, Mr. Bardin,” Mary says protectively, dishing out plates of eggs and bacon. “She didn’t do it to purposefully upset you.”

I grit my teeth and wonder why everyone is attacking me. Maybe I didn’t react the best way, but Iwasblindsided.

Now I start to question if I am actually angry or not. At this point, I’m not sure anymore. Women have their way of messing with my head.

“Guess you’re right, Mary,” I say, massaging the bridge of my nose. “I’ll… I’ll go talk to Joyce.”

I stand and go to look for Joyce. I find her alone in the darkened dining room, her face alarmed, her free hand pleading for me to wait so she can talk to me too.

“Oh, you’re at your son’s place?” I see her wincing and I feel for her. “That’s okay, Mrs. Zane. Yes, truly, I’ll try someone else!”

She’s smiling when she hangs up, and I wonder how that is possible for someone to deal with rejection this well. Joyce places her phone in her pocket and looks at me, exasperation still in her eyes.

“I called everybody,” she lowers her head. “Relatives and neighbors. Nobody wants this brat.”

“She’s that challenging, huh?” I ask, now feeling amused.

“A little.” Still looking down, she brings the palm of her hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry she called you a creep, by the way — you know how kids exaggerate things. It’s not that she’s repeating anything I said!”

“I believe you,” I nod, “Sophia can stay, Joyce.”

“Really?!” she beams, relief and gratitude clear in her eyes.

“Really,” I say. “I’ve never said she couldn’t. You just assumed I wouldn’t. You should have asked me, and you should have done so before just bringing her over.”

She looks speechless, as if still trying to comprehend the fact that I said her sister could actually stay, and it’s completely adorable.

“I understand. I apologize. I wasn’t thinking clearly and wasn’t sure what to do. But she can stay? Really?” she asks, still looking unsure.

“Yes,” I say, rolling my eyes and losing patience.

“Thank you, Mr. Bardin,” she takes my hand in hers. As I’m thinking how nice it feels, I realize her lips are getting closer to mine. Before I can process what’s happening, she stands on her tip-toes and kisses the corner of my lips gently. I’m surprised not just by the kiss, but because I don't want her to pull away.

Joyce pulls back quickly though, her face turning a cute shade of beet red.

“I’m sorry. That was a mistake,” she says, turning around, but not leaving my side just yet.

I sigh a very long sigh, and look at her, feeling confused.

“Nobody has touched me like that in a long time,” I finally say dryly, trying not to show too much emotion.

Her face still flushed, she looks at me almost tearful and very apologetic.

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