Page 5 of Single Dad Billionaire Boss

“Thank you, yes, I’ll send her right out.”

With that, Zoe peeped out from behind the flap and looked down at us. Her brow furrowed for a moment and then her expression brightened as she recognized Ella. Zoe quickly scrambled down the climber and bounded over to her.

“Do you remember me, Ellie?” she asked.

Ella squatted before my daughter and nodded. “Of course I remember you, Zoe. Kristen brought you to see me at the park and you loved the fidgets at my table. I have one of your coloring pages hanging up on my refrigerator at home.”

“Which one?”

“The salamander,” Ella said, and her eyes swiveled to the climber. “Tell me about this thing. Is it a rocket?”

“No, it’s a climber,” Zoe said. “Come up to the top and I’ll show you.”

“Okay.” Ms. Clark stood up and Zoe took her hand.

“No slick shoes,” I said sheepishly, holding up one of my own, and Ella smiled.

“Daddy’s right,” Zoe said, looking sadly at Ms. Clark. “You’ll fall down and knock out all your teeth and break your head open.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that to happen, now, would we?”

Ella stepped out of her flats and followed Zoe up the climber, the two of them disappearing into the tent at the top. I could hear them chattering and giggling quietly, and then my daughter popped out, climbed down quickly, and grabbed the woman’s purse.

“She told me to get it, Daddy,” Zoe whispered. “She has a flashlight. Turn off the light, please.”

As Zoe flew back up the climber and into the tent, I moved to the door and flicked off the light switch beside it. The inside of the tent illuminated, and I just stood there for some time watching my daughter and Ella make shadow puppets on the wall, the two of them whispering and giggling the whole time. A bird, a dog, and then something that was supposed to be Abraham Lincoln. Ella explained to Zoe who that was, and then, mercifully, also explained that she needed to talk to me. I turned the light on, and when the two of them were back on the floor, I shooed Zoe out to Marsha’s care.

“I’m Ella Clark,” the young woman said, stepping back into her shoes. I shook her hand, smiling even though I knew she already had three strikes against her. One, Kristen recommended her. Two, she was too young. And three, she was too pretty. Nannies should be seventy years old and hatchet-faced, I thought. It made things far less complicated.

“Jacob Sanders,” I said, moving behind my desk. I motioned for her to take the chair across from me and then she sat down.

“I apologize for not bringing a resume,” Ella said. “I didn’t expect to apply for jobs today and I don’t have a printer.”

“Well, I don’t have a nanny, so that makes us even.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure you must be—”

“Desperate?” I said quickly. “Aggravated beyond words? Yes. I am leaving Monday for business in Singapore. Being a single father, a reliable nanny is a necessity. Having reviewed your credentials and—”

“How do you know about my credentials?”

“You gave me your contact information and I had Marsha do some digging. Transcripts, basic criminal background check, driving records, that sort of thing.”

“That’s—”

“Efficient?”

“A privacy violation.” Ella’s tone was conciliatory, but her expression was all unease.

“I didn’t steal your identity or anything,” I said, and Ella’s gaze hardened.

“But you could have,” she replied flatly. “And that’s what bothers me. I have nothing to hide, but I’d like the right to authorize that kind of investigation.”

“Understandable,” I said. “And I’m sorry if I offended your sensibilities. When you have a child, let me know how you feel about violating a caregiver’s privacy to determine if they’re a dangerous predator.”

Ella held my gaze for a moment. “Mr. Sanders,” she began again deliberately, “I did not come here to be insulted, nor was I expecting to have my school and criminal records inspected without my consent. There are other jobs with, I have to say, less intrusive practices.”

“You are free to go anytime you wish.”

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