Page 38 of At First Flight
But it also means that my week of putting my life together after gaining guardianship of the little squirts is over.Now I need to figure out how to juggle my past life with my new one. Thank goodness for Lila, who plans to take the kids to the park today. She wants them to start making friends with kids in town who could potentially be their classmates. Oliver has about three months until he starts kindergarten, and Evelyn starts her new preschool class just a few weeks before that.
Quietly sneaking out of the kids’ room, I’m not surprised to find the first floor barren. After her first week, I expect Lila to take advantage of whatever downtime she can get.
Back in my room, I shower, then pull on one of my suits for the first time since I left for Scotland. Was I required to wear the suits? Absolutely not. But it makes me feel like an important part of the businesses I work with. And frankly, I’ve always loved wearing a custom-made getup.
Approaching the kitchen, the smell of coffee greets me, and I nearly collide with Lila as she exits the pantry.
“Oomph,” she says as I offer, “Sorry.”
“Oh…um…you’re wearing a suit,” she says breathlessly, clutching her floral bathrobe around her chest.
“Yeah, I have a couple of meetings today.”
She cocks her head to the side. “Here?”
“Yep. Virtual.”
“Well, you look nice.”
“Thanks.”
The silence festers, and I can sense her awkwardness. Trying to spare her more discomfort, I reach into the cabinets for a mug and pour myself a cup of coffee.
“I was going to make myself some eggs. Would you like some?” I ask, turning around and finding her eyes darting upfrom my hips to my face. I smirk, knowing I’ve caught her ogling my ass. I spend enough hours working out to appreciate her attention. This also reminds me that I need to set up a gym in the house. Maybe in one of the additional spare bedrooms.
“Eggs sound good. Thanks. Want me to start some sausage or bacon?” Lila leans into the fridge, rummaging around for the breakfast items.
“We should have some bacon I bought. I hate sausage.”
Bowing around the door, she looks at me with pinched lips. “Are you just saying that because people refer to men’s dicks as sausages, and you’re an uber male who prefers women?”
“That’s sweet of you to call me an uber male,” I add, chuckling as she rolls her eyes. “But no, I’ve hated sausage since I was a kid. One of my old nannies served it with everything, and I mean everything. She treated it like a protein for every meal of the day. Sometimes even the smell makes me nauseous.”
“That’s…strange.”
“Tell me about it.”
Handing me the carton of eggs, I start cracking them on the side of the mixing bowl.
“Will you eat it on pizza?”
“Nope.”
“What a travesty. I love a meat lover's pizza.”
“I bet you do.”
“Oh my gosh,” she says, hip checking me. “Can you not make everything so sexual all the time?”
“Can’t help it. It’s a gift.”
We work seamlessly in the kitchen, putting together breakfast for ourselves and the kids for when they decide to wake up. Lila suggests getting them on a schedule on weekdays in the mornings. That way, their transition to school will be easier.
Her ease at being a nanny blows my mind. Despite whatever reticence she feels toward the position, she’s simply amazing.
Once breakfast is plated and the toast pops out of the toaster, Lila and I scarf down our food just as the pitter-patter of feet descends the stairs.
She offers to take care of them while I head to the office to work on some projects. I have a few things to do before my meetings. One of which includes learning Lila’s ex-fiancé’s name and what he possibly could have done to screw things up with her. From what I know about my nanny, she would have only run if he did something truly horrific.
