Page 10 of The Billionaire & the Nanny: Part 4

Alana

I can’t believethis is happening.

I’m about to start a nanny job, of all things, for an elite, upper-crust member of NYC’s high society. When I thought I’d gotten away from a life of servitude for good. When I thought I’d wedged my way into a better life.

How in the fresh hell did everything go so wrong?

Staring at the high-rise on the corner of Fifth and 48th, freezing my butt off in the minutes before I’m scheduled to start, I wish I could press the Reset Button on my life. I wish the stupid stock market would’ve never crashed. Never would’ve taken my job. My real job, not this nannying-position-gig-thing.

Which will be temporary, God help me.

I swore I’d never, ever be “hired help” ever again. As a kid, I had no choice then—my parents worked for the Holland Estate in upstate NY. We lived on their property, so I had to watch as my parents wiped their snooty kids’ noses, cleaned their dirty kitchens, and did all the other jobs nobody ever wants to do for people who don’t care about them.

But it didn’t have to be my choice when I grew up.

I went to Cornell School of Finance on a full scholarship, graduated summa cum laude. A month later, I landed a job with the Lodwick Brothers, the prestigious global bank, the kind of company where people dream of working. It all fell flat when a month later, my fast track to success and wealth came to a screeching halt. Lodwick Brothers had collapsed from financial mismanagement, their employees all left without a job, security, or anything to hold onto.

This, after I put a sizeable down payment on an apartment on the upper west side.

A week before I was set to start working.

And now I have no money.

Yay, me!

Luckily, my parents’ new bosses are part-owners of Le Nanny, so they were “kind enough” to set me up with a nanny job, even though I’ve never babysat a kid in my life. Not to worry, they told me. They’d vouch for me and my abilities.

So here I am, about to meet Kase Hardwin, millionaire ad agency guy, who apparently doesn’t want to care for his own offspring full-time, despite bringing the child into this world.

Why do people have babies again? Le Sigh.

It’s only temporary, Alana. A few months, tops. Until you get a job in your actual field.

No point in standing here hating what my life has become, so I push through the revolving doors and enter the warmth of East River 1, determined to make the best of this most shitty situation. How hard can it be? You wipe a few butts, change a few diapers… Maternal instinct will kick in even though I’m only twenty-one. It’ll all be fine!

The concierge stands and nods at me. “May I help you?”

“Hi, Alana Frasier here to see Mr. Hardwin with the Newfound Ad Agency?”

“Ah, yes, Miss Frasier. He’s expecting you.” The graying man reaches behind his desk, almost surely to press a button.

“Thank you.” I walk past the concierge and enter the elevator. As the glass enclosure closes and shoots up the tube, my heart rises in my throat. Whether it’s the speed of the elevator or my nerves making me feel sick, I’m not sure.

You can do this. You graduated Cornell, for God’s sake.

I’m not lower-level people. I’m middle-class people, and I made sure to get a middle-class start in life so I can work my way up. I know being a nanny shouldn’t feel like a slap in the face to me, but it is considering how hard I worked not to end up like my parents.

I take a deep breath, and the doors open.

The Newfound Ad Agency takes up the entire twenty-fifth floor, probably more, and as I step out, I watch people bustling, heels click-clacking on shiny floors, and well-dressed men and women having professional discussions about professional things. There’s hubbub, energy, excitement. Exactly why I wanted to work at Lodwick Brothers, except…

I’m the hired help.

Dressed in the first-day boring outfit of black skirt and white top that Le Nanny suggested, my hair in a bun, and sensible shoes on my feet, I could not feel any crappier about myself. I’m back to nothing. Square One all over again. I almost turn around and climb right back into the elevator, determined to figure out another way to fix my life when I spot him…

Coming at me.

Walking the runway at Fashion Week - Milan.

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