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“I bet you do.” Jay whistles.
I almost break my face with a laugh. They’re so dramatic.
Elliot turns to leave.
“Mr. Hansley,” I call out.
My assistant swallows and turns back to me.
“Call Deximo and see if there is anything else they need. I need third-quarter projections by noon. My dry-cleaning is ready to be picked up, so please have it at the house by three. And some caffeine would be great.”
Elliot nods and goes to close the door on his way out.
I stop him. “Keep it open.” My tone leaves no room for questioning. “Please, have a seat.” I point Remington to the chair in front of my desk as I sit behind it, putting a physical barrier between me and the ovary charmer.
“I was surprised to get a call back from you. I thought I wasn’t ‘a good fit’.” The nanny uses air quotes like a child.
That’s because he is.
I balk and harden my features. “Let’s get something straight. While I may be a client of Child Care Connection, I’m technically your employer.” I raise an eyebrow. “You do not get to question me or my motives.”
The nanny takes a sharp inhale, sucking in his lips, but stays silent.
“I need a caregiver for my child, and Kiara thinks you’re a perfect fit. Who am I to argue?”
Clearing his throat, Remington shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Good. He opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but my question was rhetorical.
I don’t need a smartass answer from him, so I lean in and speak before he can. “My daughter is my world. Everything I do is for her.” There is a strong note of authority in my voice. He needs to understand who is in charge here. “If you screw up, you won’t only lose your job— you’ll lose your legs and ability to procreate. Are we clear?”
His pretty eyes widen as he clears his throat and crosses his legs. “Crystal, ma’am.”
That fucking word.
Elliot comes in with the magic elixir that is organic King’s Reserve Kona Espresso flown in straight from the island and fluffed in a latte. “Thank you.” I give him what I hope is a genuine smile and not a grimace, then dive, nose first, into my cup. That initial sip is always the best, and I can’t help the little moan that slips out when I swallow.
My moment of grounding is over, and I’m back to business. “One more thing.” I grit my teeth. “Never are you to call me ‘ma’am’ again. Is that clear?”
This amuses him, but he bites his cheek to hide his stupid smirk.
“Something funny, Mr. Arison?”
A bright grin breaks out on his face, revealing not one but two dimples. It’s disarming.
I bite my lip to contain my visceral reaction. A swoony sigh will not help the situation.
His gaze locks on mine as he licks his full, pillowy mouth, and I clench my molars to keep my jaw from relaxing. The dew his tongue left behind calls to me like a Cabernet after a shitty day. Just one sip wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Umber eyes fill with mirth the longer I stare, and I’m caught in some kind of daze. He’s a work of art to be admired. A hot, trendy piece I can’t afford.
“You just—”
Elliot’s voice breaks through my intercom, yanking me back into reality. “Ms. Keller, Corissa Fawlen is on the line.”
Perfect diversion.
Composing myself, I stack my walls higher. I slide over the thick binder I prepared for the nanny, outlining Isabel’s day minute by minute and all the other expectations a mother would have for her child’s caregiver.
“Please familiarize yourself with this.” Pointing to the binder in his hands, I add, “You’ll also have academic standards to teach to prepare her for preschool next year.”
He thumbs the hundred or so pages without looking back at me.
