Page 8 of The Nanny Next Door

That last bit, I figured, was his attempt to address my presence at this table. But wouldn't he have at least known about me ahead of time, even if I hadn’t heard a thing about him?

“Aaron Pierce, this is Lila Dawson,” Felipe introduced me. He finished with “God willing, she’s going to be your new nanny,” right as I was turning to get a look at the newcomer.

Oh, jeez. If I’d been flustered by Felipe and Miles, this man, Aaron Pierce, had me practically shaking in my sensible shoes.

Just as tall but far broader in build than Miles, Aaron Pierce was the picture of idealized masculinity you only ever saw in soap operas and action movies. A square jaw, large hands that displayed his clear strength despite their elegance, and serious dark brown eyes perfectly complemented his sleek silver hair, creating a picture that was the definition of distinguished. Gina would have called him a silver fox, and even though older men weren’t usually my type, I’d have to agree. I’d always gone for the pretty boys, the fairy tale princes like Felipe, but as I took in the full, glorious picture of Aaron Pierce in his dark blue suit and silk tie, I felt my body react in a way it rarely had before. I even had to squirm a little in my seat, awkwardly crossing my legs under the table as I felt a warm wetness pool between my thighs.

They really should invent a new level of embarrassment, something beyond mortification, just for me.

“Oh?” Mr. Pierce intoned, raising a dark brow as he gave Felipe a withering look that wasn’t quite a glare. Felipe, unbothered, smiled wider.

“Yes, my friend and business associate. I met Miss Dawson on the street of your lovely city yesterday afternoon, and I learned that she is in need of nannying work just at the same time that you and my partner here are in need of such services. Two birds, one stone, yes?”

“And I thought this was simply a casual lunch between new colleagues,” Mr. Pierce said coldly.

My stomach sank at this new knowledge that Felipe had basically tricked this intimidating older man into meeting with me. He took his seat carefully beside Felipe so that the three of them looked like a panel of judges, scrutinizing my every move. I swallowed hard and hoped they couldn’t sense how nervous I was now.

“I didn’t know there were two of you,” I squeaked out. “I… would I work for you both?” Did I imagine how Miles’s lips seemed to twitch, his eyes still never leaving my face?

“Lila, I’m sorry for the confusion. Allow me to explain, will you?” Felipe asked with such a soft, kind expression that I would have said yes to anything. I nodded, and he explained the situation—Miles had a three-year-old in need of a new nanny, and Mr. Pierce had recently come to be the impromptu guardian of his young nephew through a series of unfortunate circumstances Felipe didn’t know or wouldn’t describe. It was kind of funny that both men happened to need nannies, and I thought it was lovely that Felipe’s philanthropic spirit carried over to wanting to help them outside of his usual work, but he didn’t seem to answer my question about the logistics of my nannying for two children at once—if that was even what was being asked of me. The ages of both children were ideal, though, and made me want to accept the challenge. Olivia and baby Jamie were exactly the demographic I loved to work with most. Toddlers and babies were funny and cute and always bonded to me better than the older kids did. I would love to avoid another Reggie this time around.

I didn’t have the job yet, though. And the second he’d lowered himself into his seat at the table and straightened his back into perfect, all-business posture, Mr. Aaron Pierce wanted to make that fact known.

“Did you bring a resume, Ms. Dawson?” He asked in a clipped, professional tone.

“I, uh, can email it to you,” I told him uncertainly. His face remained impassive, his stare piercing, and I cleared my throat. “I didn’t have a proper bag to put it in that I could bring with me on the train, so…” I gestured to the small purse I held in my lap. “But I can give you my references.”

“I see,” Mr. Pierce said. “So, how long have you been nannying? What are your credentials? Are you CPR certified?”

That started a barrage of questions, the intensity of this lunch-interview ramping up with each new query he shot at me. I almost felt like I was under attack as he questioned my grades back in college, my knowledge of the city, my ability to defend myself and his nephew in the case of a physical altercation with an intruder. Sweat dotted my brow, and a very loud part of my brain was telling me to run away. You can do this, Lila, I tried to comfort myself internally as I found my stride and stopped stumbling over my words. Then, at the thought of my bank account’s future dwindling away, You have no choice but to do this.

The server eventually brought us our lunches, and Aaron still didn't let up, asking me about my knowledge of child psychology and the latest in children’s literature between dignified bites of some fancy quinoa bowl he’d ordered. That last question was my specific area of expertise, at least, and I met Felipe’s eyes as I gushed about the emotional intelligence and beautiful writing in a recent picture book series on the market that I loved. Felipe’s stunning bottle green irises seemed to light with joy, showing a passion that mirrored my own as he watched me. Stubborn, silly butterflies swarmed in my stomach and refused to calm down as I munched at my salad.

If I wasn’t so sure that I was great at my job, that the combination of years of babysitting experience I had before I was even out of high school, glowing reviews from families I’d nannied for in the past few years, and a nearly-completed degree in Early Childhood Education would be enough to land this gig, I likely wouldn’t have survived Aaron Pierce’s never-ending assault on my competence and my character. Instead, the only really unsettling thing was the intensity with which Aaron and Miles both looked at me during the whole ordeal. Felipe’s perfect handsomeness and gentle kindness softened the effect of those laser beam stares, at least. The sweetest and most approachable of the three rich, powerful men, he gave me encouraging nods, soft half-smiles, and even a wink at one point during Aaron’s interrogation. I wasn’t sure if that meant I was nailing it or just that he was perfect, but I’d take it.

The hardcore questionnaire was certainly overkill, even compared to interviews I’d had with the biggest helicopter parents I’d worked with in the past. But when Mr. Pierce—I got the impression he’d never give the Call me Aaron invitation—told me the pay rate for the position toward the end, I knew the third degree was more than worth it. This man was willing to pay me three times as much as the Mayhews had, and at the time, that was the most money I could imagine being paid to nanny ever. When Miles chimed in that he’d be willing to pay the same, with a competitive glance at the older man that suggested he’d even be willing to go higher if it meant he could lock me down first, I wanted to pass out.

“Thank you for considering me for this opportunity,” I said to Mr. Pierce when he finally seemed satisfied with my answers. I’d always been the type-A, good at school, does well in interviews type of girl, and something about that huge wad of cash on the line had let me answer even more confidently. I hadn’t ever considered myself good under pressure before, since stress usually made me want to curl up and cry, but it was good to prove myself wrong for once.

Mr. Pierce nodded carefully, seeming to consider how he could further assess my rightness for this job. But he was coming up blank, and then Miles gently raised his hand above the table as if asking to be called on in school. I blinked at him, then Felipe, and we both gave the much quieter man a go ahead nod.

“Aaron seems to have covered all of the bases, and I’m satisfied that you’d be more than capable of keeping my daughter safe, healthy, and entertained far better than I could,” he started carefully. “I only have one question, really. An unconventional one.”

“Sure,” I urged. A brief pause, and then he somehow managed to pull off a devastating line without an ounce of emotion.

“Will you be able to give her love?”

In the stunned silence I inhabited, I actually took the time to notice the quality of his voice, since he’d spoken more than a couple of words at last. Despite its near-monotone flatness, it was a pleasant one. Less startlingly deep than Aaron’s, not beautifully accented like Felipe’s, but… nice. I could imagine warmth in it so easily, even through his attempts at keeping things robotic.

I’d hardly considered the question itself on any real level when I answered, the words flowing out of me. “Of course I’d give her love, Mr.—Miles. Honestly, I love every child I’ve ever nannied for. I keep up with their soccer games, and their science fairs, and even go to family picnics once in a while, years after I’ve stopped working for them. Leaving them…” I trailed off, feeling my characteristic inner mush threatening to overflow in the form of tears. I held them back, but my voice quavered when I said, “Leaving is always hard. But it’s good, too, you know? Getting to see how they can thrive without you. Watching them grow up from afar…

“The reason I’m in need of a new job so urgently is because I just recently had to quit working with a family who… didn’t treat me well. Even their son, an eight-year-old who I thought would be so fun to work with, was awful to me. And his parents didn’t care, no matter how many times he threw dangerous projectiles at my head—it was my attempt to confront his dad that was the last straw, really. But I know even now that it’s not because of Reggie that I had to leave, and I even loved him, that little menace. I feel awful that I left when he so clearly needed love, since his parents didn’t care enough to teach him how to be kind, and I hope that the love I tried to give him made some kind of impact, at least. Love is the whole reason I do this work. Being able to make a living off that love is just a bonus.”

My spiel concluded, I shut my mouth and waited, hoping my overt displays of emotion wouldn’t make these rich, powerful men think less of me somehow. When Miles opened his mouth again, I didn’t expect him to ask, “Any chance that little menace was Reggie Mayhew?”

I blinked at him. “Uh… yeah. You know him?”

Taking our whole table, maybe the whole restaurant, by complete surprise, Miles threw back his head and laughed. A stark contrast from… well, the rest of his whole vibe. His laugh was light and joyous, full of a bright energy that made me smile, too. Felipe, Aaron, and some of the neighboring diners all looked around at Miles with confusion etched clearly on their faces, but he seemed unperturbed as he let out his guffaws. When he finally settled, his blue eyes a little watery from all the mirth, he told me, “I live next door to the Mayhews and their nightmare child. Whole family is a nightmare, really. If you survived even a day in that house, you’re halfway to sainthood in my book, never mind being a good nanny.”

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