Page 1 of Architect's Christmas Nanny

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JILLIAN

Jillian gazed up and down the Thanksgiving table with satisfaction. Practically every inch of the massive walnut surface was covered with delicious food and pretty decorations that she and Josie had prepared themselves, after weeks of planning and excitement.

Cooking and decorating for Thanksgiving might not be a normal task for a nanny, but Jillian’s role with the Williams family had never been confined to just watching over Josie.

The nine-year old scampered over to her now, looking up at Jillian with sparkling eyes. Josie loved this next part as much as she did.

“Can we call him in?” Josie asked.

“Yes,” Jillian told her with a smile. “Go get your father.”

Josie did as she was told, dashing past the big table and the rest of the sleek Scandinavian furniture of thepenthouse, yelling for her father before she even made it to the hallway to his office.

Jillian waited as rain slid down the wall of floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the city skyline. Despite the weather outside, and the modern furnishings inside, the flat was nice and cozy inside, thanks mostly to Jillian’s efforts. Of course, getting things just right had taken time, but she had called this outlandishly luxurious space her home for nearly a decade now, ever since Josie was a baby and her mother left, prompting her father to hire a nanny.

Brad Williams might have had a prestigious job as head architect at a big firm in the city. But money and status were useless in the face of a high stress job and a tiny infant, whose heartbreak he seemed to care about more than his own.

Although she’d originally been hired to look after Josie, over time, Jillian had come to think of herself as a caregiver for the pair of them—doing her best to warm up this cold, minimalist palace and make it feel like a real home, filled with a child’s art, happy voices, and the smell of good things cooking.

She had succeeded to the point where she often thought of it as her own home too, which was a dangerous notion for any domestic employee, especially one who didn’t have much family of her own.

The early years had been very secure, but when Josie began preparing for first-grade, Jillian braced herself for Brad to let her go and downsize to a simple after-school babysitter for the child. The idea had kept Jillian up nights, sobbing helplessly into her pillow—not overlosing a job, but just at the thought of leaving the little girl she had raised from an infant.

But the first day of school came and went, and Brad never said a word. He hadn’t even asked Jillian to take on new duties now that so much of her time had been freed up.

But of course Jillian had come up with all kinds of ways to fill her days and improve their lives. Brad and Josie had beautifully organized cabinets and closets now, and a pantry that was always perfectly stocked. Josie had fun activities and lavish parties and playdates, all meticulously planned by Jillian. And the day Brad mentioned missing the greenery of the homestead back in Pennsylvania, Jillian had started working on a beautiful container garden on the wrap-around balcony, with pretty plants and flowers along with herbs and vegetables they could use in the kitchen, too.

She hadn’t exactly loved working out there. It turned out she had a fear of heights that she’d never had a good reason to notice before. And she had never really had a green thumb when it came to gardening, so her project involved a lot of video tutorials, as well as more than a little trial and error. But if Brad Williams was determined to continue to pay her, house her, and feed her, then she was determined to give him his money’s worth, if she could.

“Oh, wow.” Brad’s deep baritone roused her from her musings as he stepped into the dining room. “This looks incredible.”

“Did you see the sweet potatoes, Dad?” Josie asked, practically dancing in place.

“Incredible,” Brad said, admiring the tiny marshmallows arranged on top of the sweet potatoes in the shape of a turkey. “You’re an artist.”

“Not really,” Josie said. “Jillian came up with it.”

“But you set every single one of those marshmallows in place,” Jillian told her. “I would never have had the patience.”

Josie and her dad shared a look, as if they knew Jilliandidhave the patience and was just trying to give Josie some credit.

“Well, all of this makes me feel thankful to you both,” Brad said, letting his gaze take in the whole table again. “Shall we sit?”

“How about some music, Dad?” Josie asked as they all took their usual spots at the table.

Brad smiled and murmured some commands to his watch. He was a simple man at heart, but he loved his music and his gadgets. Jillian was pretty sure Josie had mostly asked for a song because she knew it would give her dad pleasure to provide it for them.

A moment later, Andy Williams was softly crooning “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” through the tiny speakers positioned all over the open living space, and the corners of Brad’s mouth were tugging up in a satisfied smile.

“Let’s give thanks,” Brad said, taking Josie’s hand.

Jillian liked to think that they didn’t take her hands only because the table was too big and grand for her to reach them from her spot. But it was more likely because she wasn’t really family, even though Brad had insistedfrom her very first night that she eat at the table with them.

She remembered clutching tiny baby Josie to her chest with one arm, praying that the little one wouldn’t cry while she quickly took a few bites of takeout. She had been grateful Brad had thought to feed her. Back then, Josie had been colicky, and you could hardly put her down for an instant without starting up her pathetic wailing—an impressively loud sound for such a tiny baby.

Which was a far cry from the way Josie was now, so independent and confident. It was a joy to watch the girl approach a new friend or situation with a curious smile.

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