Page 9 of Single Dad Billionaire Boss

“She told me I can call her Ellie,” Zoe said, “but she used to have a boyfriend named Dustin. Not the hamp-ster Dustin but another one that doesn’t poop under the sharpener.”

“Yeah, it would be weird if she had a hamster for a boyfriend,” I muttered, more to myself, and I rubbed my temples. I was getting a tension headache. I told myself it was the upcoming trip to Singapore and not pure annoyance that Ella Clark had both won my daughter’s heart and questioned my judgment. Who did she think she was? I started my own company when I was her age, and now I was a CEO and a single father. Okay, sure, I admitted I wasn’t used to having to explain my decisions or having them questioned, but that wasn’t the nanny’s job, was it? Take Kristen. She was a flake, but she had been agreeable and did what she was told, never suggesting field trips to some tea garden or drawing on the ground with chalk.

An itch of irritation settled between my shoulders. I did not like changing plans—never mind training a new caregiver and determining whether she was trustworthy before my flight on Monday. It was all making me very anxious, and I did not want anything interfering with my time with Zoe.

Before Zoe’s bath, we took a walk around the neighborhood. Zoe said hi to all the pets she encountered and then I carried her back on my shoulders because her legs were tired. She pointed out cloud shapes in the darkening sky and swatted at bugs while I listened to her nonstop chatter. My heart swelled with happiness. Had there ever been a guy so lucky? Of all the dads in the world, I had been chosen to be Zoe’s—something I could never take for granted.

After Zoe’s bath, when I was combing her hair at her vanity, Zoe told me that Ella requested she sleep with her hair in a braid. “It has too much knots if I don’t,” Zoe said. “Ellie’s hair was like that too as a kid. She said her mom used to brush it so hard to get the knots out that she felt like her eyeballs would pop out of her head.”

“Well, we don’t want that to happen to you,” I said. “I like your eyeballs where they are.”

Zoe giggled and I plaited her damp hair into a single braid. She got into bed and I sat down beside her. “Are you sure you can sleep like that?”

“I have to!” Zoe said, burrowing herself under the covers. “It’s my mission!”

I kissed my daughter goodnight and was asleep myself a half hour later.

The next morning, as I got Zoe ready, I was relieved to discover that the braid had worked. There were no knots at all when I brushed her hair.

“Well, I’ll be,” I said. “How come you didn’t sleep in a ponytail when I tried to get you to do that?”

“I dunno,” Zoe said with a shrug. “It made a bump under my neck on my pillow.”

“But the braid isn’t bumpy?”

“It’s bumpy but it’s a good kind of bumpy.”

Zoe dressed herself in her uniform, but when she went to look for her shoes, she asked me to set the stopwatch on my phone and time her. I gritted my teeth and obliged. I tried to reassure myself that I did not need to feel threatened because the new nanny had ideas that made it easier for Zoe to get ready. But another part of me thought Ella Clark needed to back off. It wasn’t good for Zoe to have her routine changed or to depend on another adult besides me after her last nanny took off without a word.

After taking my daughter to school, I worked from my home office for a couple of hours before leaving again for Zoe’s play. The school auditorium was decorated with streamers to look like green seaweed and blue ocean waves. The rustle of movement and hum of voices increased as seats filled up for the performance. Then, everything seemed to fall silent as my eyes scanned the sea of faces and landed on Ella Clark.

She sat near the back, waiting like everyone else for the show to begin. My heart squeezed and I felt something achy in my stomach. I had told Ella that she wasn’t needed at work until pickup time, but here she was, taking time out of her day on a Friday morning to watch my five-year-old play the part of a coral reef. Wow. Her gesture really touched me.

Blood rushed to my cheeks and I swallowed hard. There was an empty chair beside me. Should I text Ella and invite her to sit up front with me? Should I thank her for taking an interest in my daughter and tell her that the braiding thing had been a good idea? I wanted to, but some resentful or envious part inside kept me from reaching for my phone. I could respect Ms. Clark for attending the play, but that didn’t mean I had to sit with her.

Thankfully, the play started soon after and all my attention was on Zoe. She did a tremendous job standing still, arms linked with nine other kids dressed in vests made of twisted pool noodles. And when the play was over, she scrambled down the stage stairs and I helped her out of her costume. I could actually feel her trembling with excitement as I picked her up and told her what a great job she did. Ella joined us a moment later and gave her a carnation.

“A flower?” Zoe said, eyes bulging in awe.

“You always bring performers a bouquet of flowers after a performance,” Ella said. “I used to get flowers after my dance recital when I was little and when I was in show choir in high school. It’s to say that you did a special thing and you were brave, Zoe.”

I was still holding my daughter on my hip as she twisted half away from me to hug her nanny, leaning in close enough that I could smell lemongrass and something like citrus coming from Ella. Only perfume or shampoo, I figured. But still, it gave me that achy feeling again in my stomach.

I set Zoe down so she could line up with her class for pictures, and I was left standing with Ella Clark. “Thank you for coming,” I said. “Zoe was thrilled to see you here.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Ella said. “She did a great job, didn’t she? She stood totally still even though that Antonio kid beside her had the hiccups the whole time.”

“I saw that,” I said. “She told me last night that he gets hiccups when he gets nervous. She told him to say his ABCs in his head to help him calm down.”

“That’s so sweet. She told me she was afraid he’d get scared and pee his pants and she’d have to stand there and keep smiling with pee on her shoes.” I chuckled. “I told her life was like that,” Ella went on. “Sometimes your friend messes up and you have to figure out how to deal with it.”

“Is that why you’re here?” I asked. “Because your friend Kristen messed up?”

“In a sense, I guess,” Ella said. “I mean, if Kristen hadn’t eloped, I wouldn’t be Zoe’s nanny. But I came to the play because I wanted to be here. Because I like Zoe.”

Ella smiled and held my gaze and I realized that I was smiling too. I cleared my throat and, averting my eyes, said, “So you’ll get her after school, then?”

“Yes,” Ella said. “I’ve got a group in half an hour, so I’d better get going.”

---