Page 42 of Nanny for the Bossy Billionaire

That’s a ridiculous thought to have, so I push it out of my mind.

Not long after that, we are both in my Bentley weaving through the streets of San Diego in search of a good breakfast spot.

“You know, if you slow down, it would help our chances of being able to spot somewhere we can eat. It also has the added benefit of improving the chances that we won’t die in a fiery car crash.”

“What? You don’t like going fast?”

“No, not particularly. I grew out of that phase when I was 16. Clearly you haven’t.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“I can’t believe I ever thought you were a responsible upstandingadultmember of society.”

“What ever gave you that notion?”

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re ancient?”

I chuckle. “That’s mighty ageist of you.”

She waves me off and we keep driving.

Soon we are being seated atCafé Sophia. We put in our orders and the conversation flows.

“So, what’s been going on with you at work lately? If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just having some trouble with my board.”

“Really? About what?”

“When you hear my company’s name, what comes to your mind first?”

“Ummm…” She looks up in thought. “I guess, cutting edge technology, Artificial Intelligence, life-saving tech solutions… That kind of thing.”

“Exactly! My board wants us to diversify in a way that I don’t agree with. They want us to branch out into creating home appliances. I am violently against that. So some of them are trying to get me fired.”

She gasps. “Oh my God! That’s serious.”

I shrug. “I guess, but whatever happens, I’m not going down without a fight.”

Our waiter walks up to us with a food laden tray. She places a plate of waffles in front of me and a plate of pancakes in front of Naomi. She sets a medium-sized plate of fruit salad in the center of the table, followed by a jug of orange juice and two glasses. Then, after giving us a friendly smile, she walks away.

As Naomi slices into her pancakes, she says, “That’s really messed up. That they would try to kick you out of the company you started.”

“Yeah, it is, but at the end of the day it’s just business. I’m not really surprised.”

She smiles. “Well, I’m not too worried. You’re a stubborn bastard. This is a situation where that is actually an advantage.”

I laugh and almost choke on a mouth full of waffle. “Thanks, I guess?”

We spend the rest of our meal bantering. When we’ve cleared our plates and breakfast is over, I don’t want to go home yet, and neither does Naomi apparently, because she comes up with a suggestion.

“It’s a beautiful morning. We should go for a walk,” she says.

“Sure.”

We jump back in the car and head for Mission Beach. It’s beautiful there, but not as crowded as some of the other more popular beaches in San Diego. Plus, it’s still quite early in the morning and Christmas is just around the corner, so everyone is preoccupied with that. We will basically have the place to ourselves.

When we get there and step out of the car we are met immediately with the salty smell of the Pacific Ocean. Once we get on the beach, we take off our shoes and start walking along the coast, the wet, mushy sand squishing between our toes. There are a few people milling about, but not enough to constitute a real nuisance. Birds squawk overhead and every now and then a cyclist rides by.

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