Page 40 of Primal God

My lips part. Is Chef really going to sit there and take credit for the cookies that Diego and I made? He turns, getting back to work on dinner. Guess so. What a freaking jerk!

Diego tugs at my hand and then looks at his dad. I understand what he’s getting at, but it’s just not worth it.

I squat to his level and say, “It’s okay, bud. We know who made them.”

Diego gives me a small smile before rushing off. I turn my attention to Isadora, who is happily playing with the dry cereal on her tray.

“I scheduled an interview with a potential nanny two weeks from Tuesday. It was the earliest she could meet with me.”

This gets my attention, and I meet his gaze. “What time?”

“Five. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes. Do you…do you still want me to sit in on the interview?”

He dips his head. “I do.”

A rush of feelings courses through me, making it hard to breathe. I knew he would be looking for a permanent nanny, but I didn’t expect it to happen so soon. What if this nanny is a perfect fit and he no longer needs me? I glance at Isadora. What will I do then?

But I answer him, “Okay. I’ll be there.”

I’m about to find a reason to take Isadora and get out of the kitchen when Clara bursts in.

“Papai!Guess what!”

He catches her as she launches herself at him. “What Clara-bear?”

“I got invited to a sleep over! And Diego and Nanny W made cookies!”

His gaze meets mine. “They did?”

“Diego said they’re the best he ever had.”

Diego appears at that moment and smiles shyly at his father.

“Well, I knew they tasted better than usual. No offence, Chef.”

Ha! Chef has nothing to say to this.

Clara says, “And look what Nanny W and Diego did!”

She points, and so he walks. I follow them, curious to see what she’s going to show him. They come to a stop in the living room, and it dawns on me. The shoe rack. I glance at him. Is he going to say anything about it? I mean, it doesn’t exactly go with the aesthetic around here. Should I have asked first?

He turns to me. “Very nice and much appreciated. Did you use the card to pay for it?”

My cheeks are warm. “I used my card. It wasn’t very much.”

He sets Clara down and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his billfold. “How much was it?”

“Really, it’s okay.”

“Ms. Wolfe,” he all but growls.

Clara giggles. “Wolfe is your last name?”

I nod at her. “It is. That’s what the ‘W’ in Nanny W stands for.”

“I’m glad you don’t go by Nanny Wolfe. That would be kind of scary. For Diego,” she quickly adds.

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