Page 41 of Daddy's Unexpected Gift

“You really should allow me to run a background check on all candidates. After all, my agency is ultimately responsible for the child’s wellbeing.”

That was a stretch, but Peggy Stanholt had an overinflated sense of responsibility.

“I am happy to submit any candidate for a background check. However, I simply haven’t found anyone worth a second interview.”

“Have you contacted the agency I recommended?” She asked every question as if she expected me to have completely ignored her recommendations.

I openly and freely admitted that childcare was so foreign and new to me that it wasn’t worth playing ego games and struggling my way through it. Not when Georgie was the one who actually suffered.

“Where do you think Miss Stevens came from? Everyone I’ve interviewed has been sent over from the agency you suggested.”

“How many candidates have you already met with?”

I let out a heavy breath. “I met with four yesterday, and I have six lined up for today. And more tomorrow.”

The baby monitor carried Georgie’s babbling into the living room. “Excuse me, Georgie is awake. I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.”

I didn’t care whether she did or didn’t. I jogged down the hall to Georgie’s room and opened the door. She stood in her crib, her hands on the railing as she rocked back and forth. She smiled and made more sounds that were almost words. She said something that sounded like Dada.

I stopped just before I reached the crib.

She reached out, and this time, she was very clear in her noises. She said, “Dada.”

I rushed to her and swung her up into my arms, placing a big kiss on her cheek. “Did you call me Dada?”

She repeated the sound and placed her sloppy open-mouthed, practically a bite, kiss on the side of my chin.

I swung her around and onto the changing table. “You are in a good mood, baby girl.”

She smiled and kicked. After she was changed, I picked her up and carried her back out to where Ms. Stanholt waited for us in the living room. It should have been Cecelia. She would have been so excited to hear that Georgie called me Dada. I wanted to tell her, and I hated that I couldn’t.

“I have another nanny interview in a few minutes. Are you planning on sticking around?” I asked.

“I thought we had discussed my being available and sitting in for your interviews this morning. Don’t you recall?” She sneered down her nose at me.

“It must have escaped my mind,” I admitted. I probably forgot about it within moments of her insisting that she be here.

“How many have you already interviewed?”

“Two yesterday, and two so far this morning. I haven’t been impressed with any of them yet. Neither has Georgie.”

“The baby doesn’t exactly have a say,” Ms. Stanholt pointed out.

“Maybe not, but I’d rather not expose my ward to someone who scares her.”

Peggy Stanholt rolled her eyes.

“Mr. Sterling, your next appointment has arrived,” Wayne announced.

“Send her in.”

A moment later, a nondescript middle-aged woman followed Wayne into the living room. She interrupted herself multiple times to make baby noises at Georgie, but the baby ignored her and tried to hide in my shoulder.

“She’s such a playful little girl,” the woman said.

“She can be,” I said. But at that moment, Georgie was trying to get the woman to stop looking at her. “She is not at the moment.”

“Nonsense. Let me take her.” She held out her hands as if she was going to grab Georgie off my lap.

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