Page 16 of The Accidental Nanny
“I’m sorry, sweetie. Daddy didn’t mean to shout.”
Gemma looks at me like I’m the devil for upsetting my daughter.Eden’s sobs are unbearable. Ace glares at me, just as mad. He gets off his chair and chucks his painting in the bin, storming out of the room.
“Ace,” I say as I try to stop him, but he’s gone. Loud footsteps echo through the house and a door slams shut.
Gemma shakes her head at me.
She’s only been in my home for one day, caused chaos, and is now judging me.
“Eden,” I try again, “I’m sorry.” I approach with my hands extended towards her.
“I hate you!” she yells.
I cringe. Those are the words I never wanted my children to say.
“Eden, honey. I need to talk to Daddy,” Gemma cuts into Eden’s soft sobs after her outburst. “Can you go and play with your dolls like a good girl?”
Eden nods, shoots me an evil glare, and storms off, leaving Gemma and me alone.
“What the hell has happened here?” I demand the moment Eden has left the room.
Gemma takes a huge breath. I notice she is wearing my wife’s clothes. Mum must have shown her where to find them.
“I’m sorry about the mess,” Gemma begins.
“I asked you to tidy up. The house is in a worse state than when I left this morning. What the hell happened to the washing? And the takeaway? They’re supposed to have ahealthy meal. To top it off, my children have ruined their school uniforms with paint.”
“I can explain.”
“Explain then.” I cross my arms and wait for her response.
“My brother replied to your message about the job. I didn’t know you wanted me to be a nanny.”
“What did you think I was after…” I pause as a thought crosses my mind. I gape at her. The way she was dressed this morning… Oh God, she thought I was after sex.
As she notices me staring, her face blushes a deep red.
“I only heard half a conversation and… I got the wrong end of the stick. I thought you just wanted adult company. Dad has cut up my credit card. I have one week to find a job, or he will kick me out. This seemed like the perfect opportunity.”
I breathe heavily through my nose, and get angrier with every word she says. “You’re a prostitute?”
“No!” she shouts back. “Of course, not.”
“Then what are you? You thought I wanted to…”
Her face turns even redder than before. “I’m sorry. Okay?”
“Do you even have any childcare qualifications?” I growl, trying to hold onto my sanity.
“Yes, I do. I’m qualified. But I didn’t like working in the nursery.”
“I’ve left you alone with my children, and you don’t like kids?” I stab my fingers through my hair.
“That’s not what I said. I said I didn’t like the nursery. I love kids.”
“I think I should find somebody else. It’s obvious you don’t want the job, and the house is a state.”
“I’m… I’ve never cooked before or done any washing. We have housekeepers and a chef.”
