Page 69 of Nanny for the Bossy Billionaire

I sigh yet again. “What is it?”

“The vote is only a few days from now. Are you really going to let them push you out? I mean, I thought by now you would’ve come up with some sort of Hail Mary pass to beat Eve. Are you really going to take this?”

“You say that as if I have a choice in anything that’s going on. Of course, if I had it my way I wouldn’t be leaving the company, but as it is, what choice do I have?” Clive starts to speak, but I stop him because I do not need another one of his rousing speeches at the moment. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. The whole point of me staying home today was to try and get my mind offHarris Tech.”

“Okay. I’ll let you be.”

“Thank you.”

We say our goodbyes and hang up.

I lie back in bed and close my eyes. Although the goal has been to try and get my mind off the company, it’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about all day. Naomi was here for the first half of the day which was a good enough distraction. However, she left about two hours ago, and all I can think about isHarris Tech.

My phone rings in my hand. I groan, thinking it’s Clive again. I lift the phone and see that it’s Naomi calling and the scowl on my face is immediately replaced by a smile. Her parent’s party is probably just starting and she’s calling to bitch about it.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Good afternoon, sir.” a man’s voice responds.

I sit bolt upright. “Who is this?”

“My name is Jerome Jackson. I’m an officer with the San Diego Police Department.”

My stomach drops. “Okay, and why are you using my girlfriend’s phone?” I ask, my heart rate picking up speed.

“I’m sorry to be making this phone call, but there has been an accident.”

Just like that my head feels like it’s filled with helium, and it starts to spin. I sway a little and have to brace myself with my free hand on the bed. I can barely hear the officer through the blood rushing to my ears when he says, “Sir, are you still there?”

I clear my throat and speak with a shaky voice, “Yes, I am.”

“Like I said, there has been an accident. About an hour and a half ago a drunk driver crashed into a Prius. According to witnesses on the scene, the car flipped a couple of times. A woman was sitting in the back where the car made impact. She wasn’t wearing her seatbelt and was thrown from the vehicle. We haven’t been able to identify her because we can’t find a purse or any kind of ID. Although we know who the driver is, he is unconscious at the moment. We found this phone in the wreckage. I called the last number dialed, which is why I’m speaking to you right now.”

“How— where is— is she—”

I’m so afraid to seek more details that I can’t even get the questions to come out.

Luckily, the officer understands what I am trying to ask, so he interrupts. “She is alive. I can’t give any information beyond that because I do not know the extent of her injuries. She has been taken to the hospital.”

“Which hospital?” I ask as I whip the covers back and jump out of bed.

“She was taken to Sharp Memorial Hospital.” He pauses. “Sir, can I ask what her name is?”

“Her name is Naomi Davidson.”

“Thank you. That information will be helpful in contacting her next of kin.”

I’m done with this conversation.

I need to get to Naomi.

I retrieve my car keys and start heading toward the hospital.

When I finally get through rush hour traffic I have to stop myself from speeding like a maniac, because the last thing that needs to happen right now is for me to get into another car accident.

I white knuckle the steering wheel the whole way to the medical center.

What if Naomi doesn’t make it? Although the officer said she is alright, he didn’t sound very optimistic.

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