Page 8 of Dr. Single Dad

“This is my one job when it comes to Guinevere. I have to find a decent nanny.” I know I’m going to be a terrible father. The least I can do is make sure she has an excellent nanny.

Jacob shoots me a grin. “You have more than one job. And you’re going to make a ton of mistakes. I know the prospect doesn’t sit easy for you, but you’ll get used to it.”

“You’ve got to shit or get off the pot,” Vincent says. “Who’s next on your list?”

Nathan picks up his jacket. “I’m out of here. I have my own nanny to worry about. Good luck, guys. Maybe you’ll have found someone by the time dear, sweet Guinevere has reached eighteen.”

“Thanks for your support,” I say as Nathan passes me on the way to the front door. I can’t hide my sarcasm.

“Dax, I’ve sat here for five hours trying to support you while you’ve been fucking around playing with your dick. Make a decision, man.”

“He’s right,” Jacob says. “No one is going to be good enough to care for your daughter, but unless you’re going to give up work and do it yourself, you need someone.”

The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as he says the worddaughter. That’s not how she feels to me. To me, she’s just Guinevere, a child I’m responsible for ensuring she’s—fed and clothed and educated.

He pulls the paper from my hand. “Now who’s this? The next candidate?”

The doorbell goes.

“Be nice to her,” Jacob hisses.

I’m nice to all of them. I can’t help it if they don’t fulfil the job requirements. This one is twenty minutes early. Does she have a problem telling the time?

I throw open the front door and am greeted by the back of someone’s head, her almost-black hair piled up on top of her head like she’s tried to stuff too much hay into a binbag.

She spins around and her smile seems to take up half of her face. “Good afternoon. Dax Cove? I’m Eira Cadogan.”

She’s wearing a burgundy coat with small black buttons up the front. She carries an umbrella in one hand and a huge bag on the opposite shoulder, as if she already has the job and is ready to move in. There’s something vaguely familiar about her, but I can’t put my finger on where I might have seen her before.

“Excuse me.” She glances down at herself. “I’m covered in mud.”

She’s right. There are splashes of mud all over her coat. She looks up at me and grins conspiratorially, as if we’re in on the same joke. Except we’re not. I don’t want my child looked after by someone who can’t get to an interview without looking like she came out the worse for wear after a fight with a pig in a sty.

“I think you have some on your face,” I say, inching forward to check. Is there any point in even letting this one through thefront door? It’s a waste of my time. She’s quite literallycovered in mud.

She rolls her eyes as if the mud is a pesky child who needs to be dealt with. “Do you mind if I just have five minutes to clean myself up? It’s always the same in January. Mud and puddles. You can’t avoid them.”

We’re in the center of London. It’s not hard to avoid mud. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty difficult tofindmud.

“I suppose, I just?—”

She brushes past me and heads toward the back of the house. “Is it just through here?”

“Yeah, as far as you can go, on your right.” I tip my head back and groan. I just want to find someone good. This process is such a ball ache.

Jacob and Vincent pull me into the sitting room. “This resume is excellent,” Vincent says. “These Portland nannies are the best,” he says. “Royalty all over the world use them.”

“The thing I’ve learned this morning is the CV doesn’t mean anything. I just met this one and she’s not going to cut it. She’s covered in mud for crying out loud. How can she look after a child if she can’t even sort herself out?”

“Anyone can get covered in mud in this weather,” Jacob says. “You can’t write someone off because of that.” Guinevere starts to cry, and I try not to show that I find it intensely irritating. She has everything she needs. Why is she crying? It’s completely irrational. I try to zone her out. The temporary nanny will see to it.

“This CV is really great,” Jacob says. “Some of the high-profile placements she’s had are really impressive. I bet she’s expensive though.”

“This girl won’t work. She looks like the kind of person whoattractsmud. She’s…” I wince. “Messy.”

Vincent takes me by the shoulders. “You need to get a grip. Nathan’s told us what’s going on. Unless this woman whips out a lizard and asks to bring her baby-eating reptile to live with you, you need to offer her a job.”

“I do not.”

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