Page 5 of 7+Us Makes Nine

“A monster.”

“And what did the monster do to you?” I asked.

“He sleeps on floor,” she said.

“Well I can promise you, princess, that there are no monsters on the floor.”

“Miss ‘Gerchoo’ stay?”

I sighed and closed my eyes as I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Miss Gertrude can’t stay tonight,” I said. “She has to go home. What if you slept with me tonight?”

“No.”

“Michaela.”

“Miss ‘Gerchoo’ stay!”

“She can’t, princess. I’m sorry,” I said.

“Pwease?”

The sound of her begging broke my heart. Michaela had been having nightmares for the past month, and the only thing she asked for was our nanny to stay behind with her at night. I had asked her on multiple occasions to be a live-in nanny. I tried to reason with her. I upped her pay. Gave her more benefits. Free rein of the house. Anything she wanted. But Gertrude was sixty years old and had an established life and home of her own.

The only option I had was to try and find a new nanny. One that would live-in with us and give Michaela the comfort she obviously needed.

“What about this? If you let Daddy work real hard today, I’ll come home early. We can talk with Miss Gertrude and see what we can do. Okay?” I asked.

“Otay.”

“I love you, princess. You know that, right?”

“Wuv-eeoo.”

I closed my eyes as my heart swelled at that sound. Michaela had never been an affectionate baby. Always so serious. Hell, I hadn’t seen her smile for the first time until she was almost one year old. She was three years old and just started giving kisses and hugs to those she trusted the most. I knew it would be a hard transition on her to adjust to a new nanny, but that was the only way I could think to rectify the situation in front of me.

And I’d make sure to give Gertrude a wonderful bonus to send her off into her retirement.

“I’ll see you soon, princess. Okay?” I asked.

“Otay.”

“Be good for Miss Gertrude.”

“Otay.”

Then the line went dead and I was left in my office alone again.

I turned on my computer and ignored the roaring headlines in my face. Everyone was reporting on Anya. Everyone was picking apart what she was wearing and how she was walking and her face as she left that rehab center early. They’d reported on her two weeks ago when she entered, and they were reporting on her now.

This was why I didn’t have televisions in my house. This was why my children didn’t have tablets and cell phones at such a young age. Because they would see their mother doing this type of shit all the time.

And I didn’t want them to see her like that.

I opened up a few emails and sent off some requests. I had people I knew that could find me a suitable nanny that would consider being a live-in. Putting out feelers was all I had the time to do if I was going to get home early to see my kids, and I knew Ivan and Dmitri would be happy to see me. I started typing away quickly, trying to get as much work behind me as headline after headline kept dinging in the corner of my computer screen.

Fuck.

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