Page 13 of Nanny for My Billionaire

“Well, there is one other way you might be able to get past that,” she adds, laughing in a way that makes it obvious what she’s talking about. “You managed to get him to propose to you after just a couple of nights in your bed. Imagine what you could manage if you put in a bit more effort in that department.”

“Sara! I told you, that isn’t what any of this is about.”

“Well, what is it about, then?”

“I—I really have no idea,” I say, sighing deeply. “It was supposed to be a bit of a lesson at first, but I don’t know anymore. I love the boys, and they need someone to take care of them, but I just—I need to figure out how to do that without this major lie in the middle.”

She scoffs. “So, tell him the truth tonight. Let him kick you out and lose out on the whole deal. Or you could just play through to the endgame. Wheedle your way in deep, and cling to him like a thorn that’s in so deep he can’t possibly get it out.”

I laugh. “Should you really be telling me to dupe your brother like this?”

“It’s not duping, it’s just—I don’t know, priming?”

“Oh, lord, Sara, I really can’t believe you—” A knock sounds on the door to my sitting room. I unfold myself off my bed and stand up. “Listen, we’ll have to talk more about this later. It sounds like Adam is looking for me.”

“Ooh, good luck with all that,” she teases. “Later, sister.”

I roll my eyes as I end the call and toss my cell phone down onto the middle of the mattress. Then I exit the sleeping area and open the door.

“Adam? What’s up?”

“I just got the strangest call from the Care-a-Lot company,” he says, and I cringe because I assume it’s the name of the nanny company that supposedly sent me out here. “They just told me that Anna Thatcher quit working for them a couple weeks ago.”

This would be the perfect chance to just come clean. To tell Adam that I’m not Anna, and let the chips fall where they will, but the sick feeling in my gut leaves me far too afraid to do it. I’m not ready to let go, and Sara’s advice has already begun to take root.

Make myself indispensable.

“Yeah, about that,” I say, blushing hotly. “I was sort of pissed off when I left New York the other day, but things have been going great here and I guess I just forgot to tell you. But, I mean, who needs them anyway, right? You could just pay me directly.”

“Or you could,” he offers, “if you’re the one who is managing my books. Sara told me you’ve had a little business training, right?”

I bite my bottom lip. “Oh, uh, yeah, totally. I was telling her that someday I wanted to open a database service, and she said she’d put in a word for me with you about helping you balance the books for Rudolpho’s.”

Of course, I know that he has other books with the TrekGames company, which would be much more likely to need database management, but Anna Thatcher wouldn’t have a clue about those, so I wasn’t about to mention them.

“I wish you would,” Adam admits with a rueful smile. “I’m a chef, not a businessman. I’ve only had the ledgers and all that stuff for about a month, and I’ve already screwed it all up. You’ve got all these requisition forms for all the different foods, and a separate form for all the wines, and the payroll sheets that need to be validated. I’ve been trying my best to sort it all out, but I was just coming to the realization that I need some help. So, if you really do know how to make heads or tails of the stuff, I would love the help.”

“Great, then,” I agree. “For starters, I’ll need to take a day to see how your company is run so I can suggest your best solution. Maybe we could do that on a weekend day so Sara could watch the boys? And then I could just add myself to the payroll and manage my salary directly from there. We can just write in the job titles, like nanny services and accounting services, and I’ll attach my account onto them. If you think that would work?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure it would,” I say, nodding. “I mean, this is actually the perfect time to go over the whole business anyway, since I just took over. Maybe we could even find a few ways to improve the process or whatever. I know my dad wants me to be able to do it all, but even he didn’t do it by himself. My mom was the one who was keeping the books for him up until I took over.”

“Wow, really? He’s more of a chef, too?”

“Yeah,” Adam says, grinning. “We’re both all about the food.”

“Why’s your restaurant called Rudolpho’s, anyway?” I ask, even though I know the answer. I just want to keep him talking.

“An old Italian guy named Rudolpho built it. Dad was his sous chef for years, so when Rudy wanted to retire, he gave it to Dad for a really good price. Dad’s only been paying five hundred a month on the mortgage over the last ten years, and the final payment is only about three months away. Of course, now that the paperwork has all been transferred, those last three payments are mine to cover, but the restaurant pretty much makes five hundred percent profit in just one night anyway.”

“Maybe you should just pay off the mortgage,” I suggest, cocking my head speculatively. “It’s not necessary to waste money on the interest if you could own the thing free and clear. Then the only thing you need to worry over is the insurance, the taxes, payroll and inventory.”

He nods. “Sounds like you really do know what you’re talking about. So, how about this? We can give you a trial run on doing the books, all right? We’ll see if Sara would like to have the kids over to her place for the weekend, and then we could head over to Rudolpho’s and overhaul the whole thing. I’ll even have the front end manager come and help, though she’s mostly just been training the new servers. But she can at least help to explain each of the jobs and who is doing it, since I’ll still need to step into the kitchen to help cook while we’re there.”

“So, once we’ve got your books sorted out, I wondered if you’d mind me setting up a little online site to help other people with their books, too,” I say, testing the waters. “I’ve always wanted to have a little database company, and if I put it on the internet, I can do most of the work while the kids are sleeping, or even while they’re at school once they start kindergarten in another couple of months. I mean, assuming that you’ve decided to keep me on.”

“Yeah, you’re a keeper,” he says, casting me a smile that suggests he isn’t just talking about my nanny skills. I get a little thrill in the pit of my stomach.

“What makes you say that?” I ask softly.

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