Page 15 of The Billionaire & the Nanny: Vol. 3

She shakes lightly but the dark lipstick smirk is still there. “Quality time,” she sneers. “Yes, I’m sure. It was lovely meeting Logan’s new mistress.” With that, she turns and leaves the room, click-clacks down the hall, and slams the front door. Yikes .

Okay, then! Aren’t we having fun, yet !

The moment—and I mean the moment their mother leaves—Becca and Price are out of their seats, running around, screaming, climbing the sofa, and jumping off the toy chests. “Hey, Becca and Price, you’re not supposed to do that,” I admonish, grabbing them off the ledge before they hurt themselves and positioning them back on the couch .

But the TV show has no pull on their short attention spans, so I do what I’ve always done myself when I need to calm down and think. I plot an escape. “Let’s go to the park!” I exclaim, adding my happiest face to assuage their unsure looks .

“NO!” they scream in unison .

Fuck. So much for that. Between the stressful interview yesterday, the weirdest, most wonderful and terrifying night of my life with the sexiest man I’ve ever known, a man who took me to heights I didn’t even know existed, spending the night in his warm embrace, and awaking to a full-on existential crisis with the ex-wife and now this …

I want to cry. And so I do. While the kids run around, expending their energy, I plan the rest of the day. I’ll calm them down with a snack soon, a big snack that will fill their tummies and render them without much energy. Then, we’ll introduce ourselves, I’ll sing a couple songs, and by then, hopefully, they’ll be tired enough for a nap. If all goes well .

In the meantime, I’m just going to sit here, watch them wreak terror all around me, and sob my eyes out .

---