Page 27 of Nanny and the Beast

“Why?”

“He didn’t say why, but he called me in the early hours of the morning to tell me that he wanted to give the nanny position to you.”

My default instinct is to deny the offer, but at the same time, I’m filled with this warm glow. Like there’s sunshine bursting from inside me. It’s a power that feels ancient. Undeniable. Beyond time and space.

“Are you certain he asked forme?” I point at myself.

“He wants you, Emma,” she replies. “Only you.”

“Oh,” I whisper. My skin heats for all the wrong reasons. I shouldn’t like the sound of that so much.

“I haven’t shared the best part yet. He offered to triple your salary.”

I must have misheard her.

These kinds of things don’t happen to me. Luck never comes knocking on my door. If anything, it’s the opposite. I have tragedy following me around wherever I go.

“Triple?” I repeat.

“Mm-hmm,” she hums. “And you’ll have weekends off, so you can still work part-time at Elysium if you wish.”

“That sounds…perfect,” I say.Almost too good to be true.

I want to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. Getting the nanny job would mean I’d be able to pay all the bills and even put some money aside for the bakery I want to open one day.

“I’m not going to lie, I was looking forward to having you work at the club full-time. But the club is busier on the weekends, so it’s not like my patrons will miss out on you,” she says.

“I’ll just be one of the waitresses, though, right?” I need to double-check that we’re on the same page.

“Yes, darling,” she says. “But I have an angle.”

“What’s the angle?” I ask.

“Girls like you are the forbidden fruit,” she says. “It drives men crazy knowing that they can only look but never touch.”

There’s only one pair of eyes that I want on my body, though. It feels so wrong to even have that thought.

“When do I start at Sinclair mansion?” I ask.

“Sunday morning, just so you can get oriented,” she says. “Does that work for you?”

“Of course,” I say. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

I take deep breaths to calm myself, but my heart rate only keeps increasing.

“Emma?” Mrs. Hendricks says.

“Yes?”

“It’s a lot of money, but I would understand if you were to turn down the offer,” she says.

“No, I want the job,” I rush to say. “I just never thought I’d get it after how bad the interview went.”

“I can understand,” she says.

“Did he say why he changed his mind?” I ask.

“Does it matter why?” she replies softly.

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