Page 4 of The Bossy One

Instead, I logged onto Snug, the social media app my friend Anil and I had launched five years ago, and pulled up my chat with @1000words. She ran a popular blog on Snug reviewing children’s picture books. Everything she’d recommended, my niece Catie had loved. One of my replies on a review had triggered a conversation and then, eventually, a friendship. I had no idea who @1000words was in real life, and she definitely didn’t know who I was. Unlike most of the other billionaires I knew, I hadn’t been born with money. My anonymous Snug account was one of the few places where I got to let my guard down and be that regular guy again for a few minutes.

Maybe that’s what made @1000words easier to talk to right now.

Any new picture book recommendations? I’m about to spend sixteen hours traveling with an easily bored six-year-old, and I’m not above bribery.

She didn’t respond.

Of course she didn’t.

The way my luck was going, she’d probably decide to go on a digital cleanse or something else equally idiotic.

“I don’t normally drink in the morning,” Olivia said defensively to me.

Did she seriously think that I was still thinking about her? Like I had nothing better to do than ponder the drinking habits of the most annoying seatmate in the world?

I could use a drink, I thought, then remembered Sinead and winced.

“If you must know—”

“Please don’t,” I muttered.

“I was fired today,” Olivia said. “Again.”

“How?” I asked, incredulous. “It’s not even noon and you’ve been on a plane for most of the morning.”

Even she couldn’t be that incompetent.

“Oh, don’t be a pedantic jerk about it. Technically, I was fired yesterday,” Olivia admitted. “But I haven’t been to bed yet. When a family fires you, it’s best to leave as soon as possible.”

“A whole family fired you?” I asked, confused. I had a vision of some beleaguered office manager calling his mom for support just so he could get a word in edgewise as he tried to shove Olivia out the door.

“Just the parents. I’m a live-in nanny,” she explained, which I guessed made sense. When she wasn’t snapping at me, she had an open, pretty, approachable air that reminded me of my favorite first class teacher. Except no one would have dreamed of firing Mrs. Malone.

Damn. I should probably hire a nanny for Catie, I thought. I’d be working, and since it was summer, it wasn’t as if I could send her off to school. I’d rushed to the States so fast I hadn’t considered what lay beyond the immediate future.

“They kept asking me to do things that were bad for their kid,” Olivia said, true anger leaking into her voice for the first time since she’d stepped on the plane. She clearly didn’t like me. But whatever these parents had done had obviously made her absolutely furious. “They signed Wyatt up for so many activities he developed an ulcer from stress. I didn’t even know an eleven-year-oldcouldget an ulcer. But somehow, I’m the bad guy for refusing to take a crying kid to a violin teacher who yells at him.”

When she was angry on behalf of a child, she didn’t look annoying. She looked fierce.

It suited her.

“How does one hire a nanny?” I asked, figuring I might as well get something useful out of the conversation.

“You lie and say you’ll respect the nanny’s childcare expertise.” Olivia’s sarcasm would have been more biting if she wasn’t struggling not to yawn.

Clearly, she wasn’t as used to sleepless nights as I was.

“Did you respond to an ad online, or did they reach out to you?” I prompted. “I know someone who might need a nanny.” If I told her it was me, she might try to turn the rest of this flight into a job interview. And while she clearly cared about children, I was looking for someone less…her.

Olivia bent down to root around in her purse. Her shirt road up in the back, showing a swathe of smooth, fair skin. She straightened and handed me a business card. “Here. I’m a vetted nanny with Sunny Days Childcare. Your friend can go online and fill out a form saying what they’re looking for. They’ll send your friend a selection of potential nannies. If your friend’s Irish too, he or she will want to check the box requesting someone who’s willing to travel internationally.”

“Grand.” I accepted the card and put it in my wallet. Since she’d helped me, and I’d grudgingly given up hope of anything resembling peace and quiet, I figured I could return the favor. Even if she was the worst seatmate in the history of the world. “You know, losing a job can be an opportunity to re-direct your career. Look for ways to improve yourself so it doesn’t happen again.”

Olivia tilted her head, jaw tense. “Improve myself? Are you saying it’s okay for parents to give their children stress ulcers?”

I massaged the bridge of my nose, wishing I hadn’t said anything.

“Or the time before that when—”

---