Page 7 of Bad Nanny

None of this would have been a problem if I told him about Sarah Swoon’s success. Unfortunately, that meant he’d watch the public episodes and find out about the other way I made money. I cringed at the thought and stood a little taller as I walked up the driveway to the door.

After I’d sent my resume to Gabriel, I’d immediately gotten a replytellingme to be at his house at seven o’clock that evening for an interview. He could have at least asked if I was available at that time.

Stopping in front of the door, I tried not to let my nerves get to me as I adjusted my purse strap on my shoulder. It wassurprising that Gabriel’s house wasn’t a sleek mansion that looked cold and uninviting. I’d have expected him to live in the Hollywood Hills or Bel Air, but instead, he lived in an up-and-coming neighborhood to the south of North Hollywood.

Before I could raise my hand to ring the doorbell, the door opened, and I think I forgot how to breathe. Gabriel Badden was dressed in a pair of jeans, instead of a suit, but still wore his button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Why was that so incredibly attractive?

Down, girl.

“Hi. I’m here for an interview.” What the hell? He obviously knew why I stood at his door.

“You’re late.” His tone was flat and not welcoming at all. What a greeting.

“I’m right on time.” I smiled and wondered if he saw my cheeks shake with the effort. I was making a great first impression. This was why I preferred puppets.

He stepped out of the way and gestured for me to enter. “How far away do you live from me?”

“My dad’s house is in Corona Del Mar. It took me about an hour and a half to get here with the evening traffic.” How would this even work with the distance? I wasn’t about to commute three hours a day. My dad had mentioned something about me living with Gabriel, but that was a recipe for disaster. How would I film my show?

At my dad’s, I lived on the opposite side of the house and had a walk-in closet large enough to set up a small studio. My dad rarely ventured to my side, and even if he did, I’d added a lock to my closet.

Gabriel shut the door behind me. “We’ll talk in the living room.”

I followed him through the foyer which had hallways branching off on both sides and a staircase leading upstairs. Beyond that, the downstairs was an open floor plan with a wall of windows looking out into the backyard. The kitchen was large, with white lower cabinets and light wood uppers. The refrigerator and stove were industrial-sized, and there wasn’t a single crumb on the pristine white marble countertops.

“Would you like something to drink?” He grabbed a glass of amber liquid from the island.

“Uh...” I looked at the glass in his hand. This was probably a test. “I’ll have water.”

He grabbed a cold bottle from the refrigerator and handed it to me. “Let’s have a seat.”

I was already weighing the odds of a swift exit. Maybe if I told my dad he couldn’t, under any circumstances, look up my puppet show, he’d listen.

Yeah, right.

The living room had a beige sectional couch and two mid-century modern looking chairs. Everything in the space was beige, white, or the honey-colored wood of the flooring. The only thing that had color was the black television mounted above the electric fireplace.

I sat down on the couch, noting how spotless everything was. If I didn’t already know he had a daughter, I wouldn’t have guessed a kid had even set foot in the house.

“Where’s Delaney?” Placing my water bottle on the coffee table, I squinted, trying to see if there were anyflecks of glitter, crumbs, or sticky fingerprints on the surface.

“She’s playing in her room.” Gabriel grabbed a coaster from a stack and slipped it under my bottle before sitting in one of the chairs.

His gaze was evaluative, his posture relaxed yet businesslike at the same time. He held his drink in one hand, his index finger stroking back and forth along the rim. If we were in a different setting, like a bar, I’d think he was about to ask me to dance or to go home with him.

Stop that.

“Tell me why you’re here.”

“Uh...you told me to come for an interview.” I wanted to roll my eyes and sayduh, but that probably wasn’t the answer he wanted. “My dad thinks this is a good opportunity for me.”

He took a sip of his drink. “And you don’t?”

I was really fucking this up, and my dad was going to be obnoxious if I failed at getting what was essentially a babysitting job. “Honestly? I’m a little lost, at the moment. I’m not sure what I want to do with my degree and was taking the summer to think about it. Do I see myself being a nanny long term? No.”

“What experience do you have with children?”

“I was a child once myself.” I smiled, but it quickly fell when his lips didn’t even twitch in amusement. Tough crowd. “I don’t have much, besides some volunteer work at schools.”

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