Page 9 of Mr. Wolfe's Nanny

So, as painful as it is to be a widower for life at thirty-seven, that’s how it is and how it will be.

Nevertheless, as I stand in the executive elevator a short while later making the forty-story climb to my office by myself, I think of Lois or whatever her real name was rather than my upcoming board meeting.

Beautiful hair as black as raven’s feathers, sinfully full lips, silky smooth olive skin. Shy but bolder than she thinks underneath. Intelligent, witty. She’d briefly mentioned teaching. I’ll bet all her students adore her.

I remember her bright hazel eyes, like a kaleidoscope shifting from green to amber and other hues depending on the lighting. God, she’d smelled so sweet and tasted even sweeter. Those perfect tits and that fucking tight-

“Good, you’re finally here,” my father grumbles as the elevator doors open, shaking me out of my warm, lustful memories and drawing me back to cold, cruel reality.

“I’m here,” I say, striding past him towards my assistant. “Sanders getting the board riled up again?”

“What else is new? But it’s New York that’s the real problem.”

“Why? What’s the hubbub in New York?”

“Your buddy Tom’s been embezzling from us.”

I stop dead in my tracks. “What?”

“Sixteen million before he got his hand caught in the cookie jar.”

“What the fuck?”

Brilliant guy out of Princeton, ruthless in the boardroom, has worked for us for ten years. We were friends and he took over eight months ago as the head of the New York division of Wolfe Media after I’d recommended him for that step up.

I’m stunned. And wounded. “Why?”

“Greed.” My father lays a hand on my shoulder and leans closer. “I’ve always told you we can’t really trust anyone outside the family when it comes to business, haven’t I?”

Yes, he has. Hell, he’s taught me not to trust in more ways than he’s intended. It’s damn difficult to run a multi-billion-dollar company with only a couple of people you can trust but I should know better, shouldn’t I? Trust is a precious and costly commodity. Like love. And, it’ll burn you just as quick.

“I got a copy of the indictment the Feds are filing and I’ve asked Jonathan to take a look.”

My younger brother Jonathan is a judge and went to Harvard Law. And my dad asking the ‘wayward’ son who refused to join us at Wolfe Media so he could pursue a career with that law degree tells me this has the old man rattled.

So am I. It’s like being cut off at the knees. Again. “Tom asked me to be in his wedding next month for fuck’s sake.”

“I doubt there’ll be a wedding now unless the bride likes him in an orange jumpsuit.” Having met Tom’s Instafamous fiancée, I have a feeling she won’t. “I’ve got the jet lined up to take you to JFK this afternoon. You’ll spend a few weeks in Manhattan righting the ship for us.”

“The jet?Weeks?Dad, the kids...”

“Your mother adores them. Between the nanny and her, they’ll be fine.”

“Mrs. Hicks quit this morning.”

“Oh. Well, your mother’s capable. She raised you boys without a full-time nanny much of the time. I’m sure she can find you a replacement while you’re away.” He waves his hand like he’s a magician performing a trick.

“They needmeat home.”

“This is business, Theodore. Sometimes, it’s how things are. The kids will be at home and cared for while you secure their legacy.”

My father will never get it. He’d spent years working seventy-hour weeks. When I was a little kid, he was the shadowy figure who showed up at dinnertime three nights a week wearing a tie, drinking whiskey neat and doling out lectures for any transgressions he caught wind of. And then there was the period of time when he and Mom were separated.

“Why can’t Grayson go to New York?” My youngest brother is taking a more active role in things and he’s not got the same sort of commitments I do.

“Because Grayson’s going to our offices abroad to deal with any residual fallout there. I didn’t think you’d want to be in another country. You’ve got more experience than Gray does and Tom wasyourpick for the job.” Knew he wouldn’t forget that. “I figured you’d want to make thingsright."

“I don’t mind going for a few days but weeks? I can’t read bedtime stories here in Chicago at night if I’m in New York. I can’t eat porridge in the mornings with Jill and Lady Ducks. I can’t teach Ryder how to channel his anger if-”

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