I was recently divorced and needing a change when I saw the ad online. "Live-in nanny needed A.S.A.P!" It read. Noticing that it was in the New Jersey area, I decided to check it out. I had been living in the Midwest, and I couldn't think of a bigger change. I hadn't had any formal nanny experience, but I loved kids and I had taken some childcare courses in college. Deciding to take a risk, I sent in my resume and continued on with my job search. Little did I know how much my life was about to change.
I received a phone call a few days later, and I was shocked that I had even been considered. I had honestly forgotten all about applying. The call actually came from the family's current nanny, Beatrice. After introducing herself and asking a few preliminary questions, Beatrice went on to explain the situation. Apparently, she had been the nanny ever since the parents had gotten divorced and the children's father had needed help when he had the kids every few days.
"Wait a minute," I interrupted.
"Yes, dear?" she replied.
"Why does he need a live-in nanny if he only has the kids every few days?"
"You know, I wondered that very thing when I first started here. Apparently the divorce was very amicable, and they don't live very far apart. The children's visits are different every week, and they have changed at a moment's notice before. Other times they'll go a week or two without visiting at all. Between that and the fact that Mr. Stein works a great deal, he felt more secure having someone here all the time to be ready for anything."
"But what do you do in all that down time?" I asked her.
"Well, I've been doubling as a sort of housekeeper. I keep things tidy and organized around the house, I do the laundry, sometimes I cook, but he's usually working late and grabs his own dinner."
"Doesn't that get lonely?" I asked her.
"No more lonely than living alone. My room is on the other side of the house, and I rarely see him. When both children are here, though, this place can become a madhouse. They're very sweet, but by the end of their visit you're thankful for the downtime," Beatrice said with a smile in her voice.
She further detailed the position for me, explaining that she had been there for five years. However, she was pushing sixty and her elderly mother was ailing and she wanted to spend her last years with her. When I asked her why Mr. Stein wasn't calling me himself, she said that he had such faith in her, he wanted her to do the interviewing for her replacement on her own. I personally thought that he was just too busy to care, but I didn't want to judge too quickly.
We ended up talking for almost an hour. I told her all about myself and why I wanted such a drastic change. She understood, said that something similar had happened to her five years ago, and claimed that this was the best thing that could have happened to her.
The next thing I knew, I was on a plane to New Jersey, the only thing to my name being a useless Bachelor's Degree in studio art and a failed marriage. Beatrice greeted me at the airport, and drove me to the house in Mr. Stein's minivan that he kept around for her to run errands and pick up the kids in. We picked up our conversation like old friends, and I thanked her again for taking a chance on me.
"Don't be silly, dear," Beatrice replied, "I have a feeling that you will be very happy. It just takes some getting used to." Once we arrived, she showed me to her now empty room and helped me get unpacked. After that she gave me a tour of the house and showed me all the essentials. After an hour or two, Beatrice looked at her watch and frowned.
"What's the matter?" I asked her.
"Well, Mr. Stein said he would try to be here in time for me to introduce you, but I guess he got held up. I just hate to leave mother alone this late in the evening." Hmmm...This Mr. Stein was beginning to look like a real asshole.
"Beatrice, this is silly. You go ahead and go. I'll be fine," I assured her. It took me a good ten minutes to convince her to leave, promising to call her if I had any questions. As I walked around looking at framed portraits of two adorable children, I realized I was hungry.
With my head buried in the fridge, thinking about making an omelet, I didn't hear the back door open. And so it was that the first impression I made on my new employer was my jean-clad ass sticking up in the air while I dug in his fridge, rifling through his food. Didn't matter that he was extremely late and I was told that I could do this, I still felt like an idiot when I heard him yell from behind me.
"Just who the fuck are you?"
I was so startled that I jumped up, smacked my head on the refrigerator shelf and dropped the carton of eggs I'd been holding onto the ground. Wincing at the loud cracks I heard from the carton and the pain in my head, I turned to look at the reason for my reaction.
That's when my breath caught. He was a distinguished middle-aged man, probably in his mid forties and dressed in an immaculate suit. He had thinning, dusty blond/almost brown hair, that looked like it would be curly if he let it grow. A strong build, a chiseled jaw, and the look was topped off with a pair of angry green eyes. He looked arrogant and obnoxious, and he was sexy as hell. I always had a thing for older men, I just never realized how much until I was already married to someone a year younger than me.
"I...uh, I'm...Amy," I stammered, feeling more stupid by the second.
"Amy who?" He snapped, looking me up and down with an expression that said he found me lacking.
"Amy...Beatrice's replacement," I explained.
"Bullshit, she isn't due until tomorrow."
Starting to get pissed at his attitude, I snapped right back at him, "No bullshit! I was due today, my plane ticket was scheduled for today, and we were waiting around for you for hours TODAY!" I could see him reel in some of his anger at this, and what looked like a slight blush crept over his cheeks.
"Shit! I'm sorry about that. I was sure all day that it was tomorrow. I think Beatrice even reminded me, and I still got it mixed up. I'm sorry, I've just been so bogged down at work lately." He gave me a sheepish grin and stepped forward with his hand held out. "Let's start over again...Hi, I'm David. David Stein."
"Amy. Amy Jones," I returned, smiling slightly at him now, taking his hand. Shaking it lightly, I noticed that he looked me over a little longer now, his eyes lingering on the swell of my large breasts straining against my thin t-shirt. I realized that my nipples were sticking out after being buried in the cold of the fridge, and his scrutiny was making them distend even further. To break the awkwardness, I dropped my gaze, and noticed the puddle of egg yolk oozing from the carton I had dropped. I grabbed some paper towels, feeling myself blushing as well, and I leaned down to clean up the mess.
"I'm...I'm sorry for startling you," he said, sounding like he was very rusty at making apologies. I could feel him looking down at me, and I glanced up to meet his gaze, green eyes on green. "Let me make it up to you. I'll order us a pizza, and we can spend some time getting acquainted. I feel terrible that I messed this up."
"That would be nice," I said, trying not to blush harder. As he turned towards the phone, I gathered my thoughts. God, he was really sexy. How the hell was I supposed to work and live in this house with him? Just the two of us alone most of the time?
He finished up ordering our dinner, and turned to face me. "If you don't mind, I'm going to go get out of this suit and put on some more comfortable clothes. I can't wind down in this."
"Sure thing," I said from the floor. I finished cleaning up my mess and tidied up nervously while I waited. I honestly didn't know if this night could get any more uncomfortable. If I didn't find a way to control my attraction to my employer soon, I might as well get right back on that airplane.
David came back down in a navy blue pull over sweater and a pair of faded blue jeans, and as he walked I saw that his feet were bare. Christ, the man even had sexy feet. It was a little more comfortable with him in casual clothing, but it only enhanced his masculinity.
The pizza arrived a few minutes later, and we sat at the kitchen table so that we could eat and talk. I told him about myself, what he hadn't already gotten from Beatrice, and he told me about his children. They would be here the following afternoon, and I would meet them then. He felt confident that once they got used to me, they would like me just fine. About an hour and two-thirds of a pizza later, I noticed that he was staring at me again.
"You're very young," he stated, almost accusingly.
