Page 34 of The Billionaire and the Nanny

Penelope

When I first arrived here,I was turned down, told “no.”

Now I’m sitting in a limo next to the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met—complicated and difficult, yeah—but also sweet at times. The same man who told me to leave on the first day. I literally had nothing to wear when our date night arrived. I didn’t exactly bring going-out clothes to the Townsend Mansion for my nanny position, so Ethan sent me off earlier today to buy something to wear for dinner. Even though he handed me $500 in cash to spend, I found a pretty black lace dress for just under $100, and I paid for it myself.

When we arrive at the restaurant called Hamel’s, a nice tapas-style place, people watch us arrive. At the door and inside, everyone knows Ethan by name, and it’s the first time I really feel like I’m with someone famous. He looks amazing in his nice pants, shirt, and dinner jacket. It’s an old-fashioned style that he pulls off because he’s got great hair, an impeccable taste for clothes, and because he just looks…rich.

Women watch us. Some lift their hands halfway in tentative greeting then think twice about hugging or double-kissing on the cheek when they see that he’s with someone. Not just someone—me. I’m not going to lie, I feel out of place. This fancy place and these fancy people—it’s not me, but I’m excited that he asked meout.

Doesn’t this change our employer/employee arrangement, though?

Didn’t that change the moment he came into my room at night checking for locked doors?

I’m not going to analyze the implications of this date. I’m nervous enough as it is. I’m just going to enjoy my time with him despite my growing worries.

Our table is near the back in a cozy corner near a fireplace. When he orders wine for us and raises his glass for a toast “to autumn in New York,” I clink glasses and try to remember to breathe deeply. Okay, he doesn’t just look snazzy and rich, he looks hot. I’m just going to say it—sexy as fuck. And he’smine.

I let that sink in—I have the attention of the hottest billionaire in thecity.

Ho.

Lee.

Crap.

And it all feels incredible. Being out. Talking like an adult, dressed like an adult, having adult conversations. Though I worry about Lilly at home, like did she go to sleep okay and is she giving Wilson a hard time? I ground myself on Ethan’s shimmery blue eyes. “Everything okay for you?” heasks.

“Are you kidding?” My eyes widen. “This is fantastic. Totally amazing. I love the décor. It’sso…”

“NewYork.”

“Exactly.” With the tall ceilings and people still dressed the way they went to work, dark corners, and mini magical bulbs everywhere.

“Well, you look beautiful. Not that you don’t always, but tonight, you’re glowing. And that dress…hmmm…” He tilts his head to check out my ass, which sends sparks of electricity shooting through my body. My mind starts thinking about what could happen later when we gethome.

To his place, I shouldsay.

The Townsend Mansion isn’t my home, though I sometimes forget that. It’s going to be hard going back to my own little place one day after experiencing what could be…I guess I’ve gotten pretty spoiled. “Hmm, you don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Townsend.”

“So, we’ve known each other for almost a month now,” he says after we order several plates of different foods to try. “Tell me what your goals are. I know you’re working on your PR business, but whatelse?”

“Well…” I begin to tell him about building my career first then finding the right guy, settling down, and buying a house somewhere upstate to start a family. I get quiet then, because as much as we have felt like a family on a few occasions, Lilly Belle is not my daughter, and there’s a good chance I’ll never see her again after this gig is overwith.

The thought dampens my mood for a moment but I force a smile and ask, “What aboutyou?”

I don’t know why he looks surprised that I’m asking him this. I mean, I was bound to reciprocate the question. Yet, a dark look eclipses his face, as he presses his lips together and shakes his head softly. “I don’t think about the things I want. I just focus on the present mostly.”

“Why?” Iask.

“I don’t know. I just don’t pine over what I don’t have. I don’t mind that others dream, but it’s notme.”

“So you don’t have goals?”

“Of course I do—business goals, but my personal life is my business life. They’re one and thesame.”

I’m not even sure I understand what he means, but I stay quiet, because I can see that he’s reanalyzing what hesaid.

Finally, he shrugs. “I used to yearn, a long time ago, but that’s not me anymore.”

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