Page 8 of Hired For the Billionaire's Secret Son

‘Call me Ollie,’ she told him. ‘That’s an incredible story. So, where is Matheo now? Have you met him?’

Bo nodded, unable to explain his tumultuous day yesterday. He’d travelled to the house of Matheo’s foster parents and, in their over-crowded living room, a homely woman had held a wide-eyed Matheo, his eyes big in his face. He’d been awake and had looked a little shell-shocked. Bo had wondered whether, on a visceral level, Matheo understood that his mum was gone. Their eyes had connected and a wave of love he’d never anticipated, hadn’t expected or prepared for, had nearly dropped him to the floor.

This was his kid—his.His to raise, guide, protect and love. Look, he did not doubt that he could do the first three, but he was genuinely worried he couldn’t give Matheo the love he needed. He’d never been shown how to love, how to nurture; he’d never been nurtured himself. But all he could do was his best, and he’d try.

Matheo had lunged forward and fallen into his arms, and he’d stood there for the longest time, feeling awkward as he held his son, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was no longer alone and that he now had his own family. That, for the first time in his life, he’d fallen in love.

Bo looked at Ollie and tried to speak but found the words catching in his throat. Swallowing, he tried again. ‘I met him yesterday. He’s still at the foster mother’s house; I am expecting him in an hour or so. The social worker wasn’t convinced that I could look after him overnight without any help. I think she was worried that I’d lose him or forget about him or something. She wanted to wait until I had a nanny on the premises.’

Ollie tipped her head to the side. ‘I think she was being overly protective. While you might be inexperienced, you would’ve muddled through, and Matheo would’ve been fine.’

He was surprised at the faith she showed in him. ‘Why do you say that? I don’t know anything about babies. Like, I know they cry and sleep, but that’s about it.’

‘You’re not the first parent who would’ve had to learn on the job,’ Ollie stated. She placed her cup on the tray and wrapped her hands around her knee. ‘So, there are a few details we need to discuss. Can we do that?’

He liked her direct way of speaking, the way she looked him in the eye. He knew he could be intimidating but this woman, half his size, wasn’t in the least bit afraid of him. That was a novelty, and he liked it. ‘Sure.’

‘You do realise that if I get the job I am only here for two months? I never take assignments that are longer than three months and the only reason I am here is because my other assignment was abruptly curtailed.’

He knew her sudden availability was due to her employer’s change in plans, but he suspected there was a story behind that, and he wanted to know what it was.

No! He couldn’t allow himself to become curious about his nanny, about what made her tick. At Sørenson Yachts, he kept his distance from his staff, but he might find that difficult to do with Ollie. Sure, his house was big—it had five bedrooms, each with its ownen suite—but they were going to have to share the snug where he watched TV, this lounge and the kitchen and dining areas. If he hired her she would be employed to show him how to care for his son and that would mean they’d have to spend many hours together as he forged a bond with Matheo.

‘The boss at the agency—Ms...’ He frowned, not able to recall her name.

‘Sabine du Foy,’ Ollie interjected.

‘Right, her—she made that clear. Apparently, you need to be back in London by the first of September.’

He saw her nose wrinkle just a little and wondered why she wasn’t keen on that. That she was English was obvious, but why wouldn’t she want to go back to her home country?

Too many questions, Sørenson. Wrap your head around the concept of emotional distance, please. This has never been a problem for you before.

‘I’ll need a long-term nanny to take over from you. However, I’m not clear whether she will be looking for one for me, or whether you will take on that task.’

Ollie tapped her finger against her knee. ‘We both will. Sabine will send me potential candidates and, if you are willing, I can pre-interview them for you. By that time, I will have a better understanding of your personality and needs, and I will make a short list for you. You can then interview the final candidates either by flying them to Copenhagen, as you’ve done for me, or via video call. I would suggest meeting them face to face.’

He did a lot of business over video but he far preferred to meet with someone one on one. With something as important as Matheo’s safety, wellbeing and happiness at stake, he needed to look into someone’s eyes, breathe the air they did and get a feel for them. He didn’t want the barrier of a screen between them.

Ollie went on. ‘I get a sense of someone’s energy when I meet them face to face and I listen to my gut instincts.’

‘What was your gut instinct reaction to me?’ Bo asked, and nearly cursed aloud when the words left his mouth. What type of question was that, and how could he be so foolish to ask it?

Ollie tipped her head to the side, her gaze frank. ‘I think you are take-no-prisoners direct, occasionally grumpy, ridiculously punctual—’ he deserved that sarcastic aside ‘—and I suspect that you can, on occasion, be a considerable pain in the butt.’

Ollie smiled so sweetly that Bo couldn’t help a small grin hitting his lips. ‘Accurate.’

‘I know.’ Bo expected her to ask him what his first impressions of her had been—sexy, gorgeous, confident and super smart—but she didn’t, and he liked that about her. She didn’t seem to need his approval; she was immensely comfortable in her skin and in her abilities to do the job she’d applied for. Confidence was such a turn-on.

‘So, are we going to do this, Mr Sørenson? Are you going to let me look after your son for the next eight weeks?’

Of course he was. He was sure she was the best there was. He nodded.

Ollie leaned back in her chair, a contented smile on her face. ‘It’s good to know that the flight wasn’t wasted,’ she said. ‘Now, why don’t you tell me about your working day, so that I know your routine?’

He rose early, hit the gym and was in his office before seven. He frequently didn’t come home until after nine or ten. He seldom broke for lunch, drank pre-made smoothies for breakfast and picked up prepared meals for supper. If he kept up that schedule, he’d never see Matheo. But if he didn’t work this summer, he’d never manage to hit his clients’ deadlines.Damn it.

‘Can I get back to you on that?’ he asked Ollie. ‘And, if I get to call you Ollie, then you must call me Bo.’

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