Page 13 of The Nanny Contract

It sent a shock wave through me that I had no business feeling.

I was the nanny. A consummate professional.

I tried to look away, but it was no use. There was something about the way he’d defended me. It was disarming. He somehow had the ability to stop the chaos around him with a few simple words. Nothing too obvious, simply understated.

“Basically,” Betsy said, commanding everyone’s attention back to her, “don’t scare him off or you’ll have to deal with me.”

Betsy welcomed me with open arms, and I was starting to feel like part of the family.

“Casey has already exceeded my expectations,” she added. “And everyone knows how high those are. So, behave yourselves, all of you. Or else. And for goodness sakes, no ignoring him just because he’s charming and more competent than half of you.”

Logan’s eyes sparkled at Betsy’s quip in a way that told me he admired her. I appreciated her frankness.

For a moment, I let myself wonder what it might feel like to truly be a part of this family. To have Betsy’s fiery support and Logan’s quiet reassurance.

But I couldn’t let myself think like that. I had to shove those ideas away. I had been hired to do a job, plain and simple.

Veronica scoffed. “Casey has exceeded your expectations? My, Betsy, I didn’t realize your standards had fallen to ‘good with children’ and ‘willing to fetch coffee’.”

Wow. That was a dig. Veronica obviously had her opinions about me.

I fumed inside but kept a straight face.

“Veronica, dear,” Betsy said with a sugar-coated, condescending tone, “if my standards are so low, what does that say about your inability to meet them?”

The air in the room was alive with tension.

The smug expression on Veronica’s face faltered for a minute as she seemed to reminded herself that she was here to beg for inheritance money, so maybe she should smarten up.

“Just an observation,” she said with a fake tone.

“No,” Logan said firmly, “it was an insult, Veronica. Stop it.”

Betsy nodded. “Stop or leave.”

Veronica shifted in her seat and said nothing.

“On to the next challenge,” Betsy said, turning toward Logan’s brother Hunter.

“Hunter,” she said, “your task is the Westbrook Family Carnival challenge. I want elegance and refinement, but also carnival games, funnel cake, the works.”

Hunter nodded as if he understood, which confused me.

Then I reminded myself that he was a member of the Westbrook family and was therefore accustomed to Betsy’s quirks.

“Are you familiar with mechanical bulls?” she asked.

Hunter grinned and said, “I can easily do that!”

“Make it a mechanical peacock,” Betsy said as if it was a completely normal request. “Why? Because we’re not boring, Hunter. There will also be a gnome-tossing contest, a petting zoo, a family trivia challenge, and a rooster race.”

Betsy walked over and handed Hunter a thick binder which obviously contained further instructions for the carnival.

“You’ll find lots of information in this binder about the kinds of food I expect,” she commanded. “A deep-fried truffle popcornstation, lobster corn dogs, champagne cotton candy, and edible gold flakes sprinkled on various things. Naturally, I’ve hired a professional event planner to coordinate with you, but you’ll be expected to be the driving force in this carnival, Hunter.”

Hunter looked confident, as if he were up to the task. Again, a lifetime with this family had probably prepared him for eccentricities.

Not to mention what was on the line: a vast fortune to be claimed by anyone Betsy deemed fit. I’m sure they were all eager to impress.

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