Page 6 of Faking it with the Billionaire
“Yes, she’s here as your nanny,” I say, hoping that Emerson will go along with it. The last thing I want is to scare Bristol. The nightmares have been more frequent over the past few weeks. If I explain to my daughter that there’s a credible threat against our family, she may never sleep again.
I don’t want to put that burden on Bristol. She doesn’t deserve it.
“Oh,” Bristol says and sniffles. She rubs her wet nose against my t-shirt. Thanks, kid. I’m pretty sure my shirt is smeared in boogers.
“Hi, Bristol. I’m Emerson.”
I practically hold my breath, waiting to see if she goes along with it, lying to my kid. It’s for Bristol’s sake. Scaring her isn’t going to do the slightest amount of good. She has enough fears as it is. I don’t want her to be afraid of the dark and never want to be alone.
At least believing Emerson is her nanny might help her acclimate to having someone constantly around to protect her.
Bristol doesn’t say anything, just stares at Emerson for a few seconds before she sniffles again. “Daddy, can I sleep in your bed?”
THREE
EMERSON
His daughter is absolutely adorable.I’ve discovered she’s six, in the first grade, and enrolled at a private school. Not that I’d expect anything less for a man who is wealthy as sin.
I’m not sure of his exact net worth, but Forbes puts him somewhere between millionaire and billionaire.
I did a Google search.
I’m not proud of it.
Call it research.
There are plenty of photographs of him. Not too many of his daughter. He’s done well to shield her from the spotlight.
Not that I haven’t done my fair share of investigating his background to determine how credible the threat on his family is and why I’m tasked with watching Bristol.
Shouldn’t I also be protecting Kyler Greyson?
And sure, I can protect Kyler when he’s at home, but I can’t protect him while he’s on the ice. But at least the arena has guards and security, a full staff trained to protect the players.
I sip my mug of coffee, the caramel macchiato creamer making it taste not the least bit bitter. Dessert in a cup for breakfast. Plus, it helps keep my ass alert in the morning, a necessity when taking Bristol to school.
The kid is in the first grade of an eclectic private school. It’s top-notch, super chic, and will probably help her carve the path to get into Harvard or some other Ivy League college one day.
I’m sure that’s why he’s sending his daughter there, for the best education and the brightest future. Rich parents tend to dote on their kids, giving them everything they can to encourage them that they can be anything they want.
It’s not my place to break it to her that the world is cruel and unjust.
“Emmie,” Bristol says as I sit beside her in the backseat of the sedan. Kyler has a private driver, Mitchell, who takes us everywhere. I’m not sure if it’s because he doesn’t trust my driving, which he’s never seen, or he’s just so rich he has money to throw away for a chauffeur.
She’s given me the nicknameEmmie, and I haven’t corrected her. She likes Emmie better than Emerson. Some adults might find it off-putting or disrespectful, but I take it as a win.
I need Bristol to trust me so that I can adequately do my job and protect her. Although, I’m not keen on the fact Kyler chose to lie to his daughter about why I was hired.
When the driver pulls up to Bristol’s school, I step out with her, waiting for her to grab her backpack from the backseat. “You’re coming in with me?” She stares up at me with wide, unsuspecting eyes.
An ordinary nanny would drop her off and pick her up.
“I need to speak with the headmaster,” I say, patting her shoulder as she slings her backpack on. It’s practically bigger than she is, but it doesn’t appear too heavy or bulky.
She gives me a wave goodbye and races off to be with her friends as they hurry inside the school. The kids are all dressed in blue and gray school uniforms. She blends in, which is both good and bad.
From the outside, everything appears normal. Mundane. Did Kyler inform the headmaster that I would be coming? How much does he know about the threat to the Greyson family?
