Page 6 of One Hot Daddy

She tilts her head a touch."They said you've had some turnover."

I can't stop the bitter laugh that spills out of me."Six nannies in eighteen months.Not my proudest statistic.It's been seven weeks since the last nanny ran away while screaming about demons and satanic rites."

Jennifer doesn't seem shocked by my miniature tall tale.Instead, she lifts her brows and asks, "Was that story a joke?"

"Sort of.I like to tell my children tall tales about things like rabbits as tall as skyscrapers as a way of directing their thoughts away from the fact their mother abandoned them.But it's true that all the other nannies resigned within two days of meeting my children."

Instead, she nods thoughtfully.

"Children can sense when adults aren't committed for the long haul, and they'll act out in anxiety.They need stability."

"Is that your professional assessment?"I ask, not meaning to sound sarcastic, but I'm tired and my mental filter has worn thin."I don't want to put my children through another round of disappointment when you give up on us."

"What I said was just an observation, not a condemnation."She opens a small notebook and wields a shiny black ballpoint pen."Tell me about your children."

I lean back in my chair."Where to start?Joshua's thirteen, going on thirty.He thinks he's the man of the house now.Actually, he's quite helpful.But he carries a weight on his shoulders that no child should have to bear."I pause, watching her scribble notes."Charlotte's eleven and brilliant---too brilliant for her own good sometimes.She reads everything, questions everything, and has strong opinions about Brussels sprouts."

Jennifer's pen stops moving."The patriarchy?"

"Last week she informed me that doing her own laundry was perpetuating gender stereotypes."I run a hand through my hair."I told her she could test her theory by washing Joshua's clothes for him.She huffed and announced she would wear the same jeans every day until I gave in to her demands.It's a cleanliness strike, apparently.But it only lasted for two days, then she needed to change into her soccer uniform."

"Kids go through phases of all kinds."A smile tugs at the corner of Jennifer's mouth."And the other two kids?"

"Amelia's fifteen and has an obsession with mermaids and other mythical creatures.She's also been taking baths for two hours at a time."

Jennifer's lips twitch with amusement, and her eyes sparkle in the loveliest way.Her pink lips are full and seem to beg for a kiss.

Bloody hell, man, stop fantasizing about the potential nanny.

I fuss with my shirt collar, which probably makes me seem dodgy."The last one is Henry, who's the baby of the family at eight years old.Henry has a huge imagination, believes anything his siblings tell him, and he's obsessed with building forts out of every clean sheet in the house.I found him sleeping under the dining room table last week.Oh, and he loves his electric scooter."

Jennifer bows her head as her pen scratches across her notebook.I can't tell whether she's recording my parental failures or simply taking notes.

"That sounds like a normal eight-year-old to me," she says.Oddly, her voice has a gentle lilt that makes me think of warm apple pie."Children seek security in different ways."

I rub my face, abruptly aware that I haven't shaved properly in two days."Look, Ms.Cordell---"

"Jennifer, please."

"All right, Jennifer," I correct myself."I'm not sure what the agency told you, but I need someone who's not going to leg it after three weeks.The kids deserve consistency."I lean forward, elbows on my knees."Please be honest with me.Can you handle this family's chaos?Because that's what we are.Pure, unfiltered chaos with occasional moments of joy."

Jennifer closes her notebook and looks me straight in the eye."Mr.Murgat---um, Murdatiroy?"

"MUR-guh-TROYD.I know it's a mouthful.Sorry."

"Never mind, I get it now."She lifts her chin, staring straight into my eyes."Mr.Murgatroyd, I've handled everything from triplets with colic to a five-year-old who thought she was possessed by her grandmother's spirit.I don't scare easily."

"That's what all the nannies tell me."I can't hide the skepticism that creeps into my voice."Then Charlotte conducts her science experiments in the bathtub, or Joshua builds a catapult in the garage, and suddenly they're updating their résumés."I manage a tight smile."By the way, I'm impressed with how well you managed my surname."

She smiles, and something warm unfurls in my chest.Probably heartburn.

"You can just call me Fletcher," I say, finding myself oddly charmed by her attempt to wrap her tongue around my surname."And I appreciate your confidence, but I don't think you understand what you're getting into with my brood.I have two sets of grandparents in the mix too---my parents and my former in-laws."

I study her expression, searching for signs of weakness or hesitation.She meets my gaze steadily, and I'm briefly distracted by the flecks of gold in her green eyes.

"The agency says you're looking for a live-in position," I say, forcing myself back to business."Our last nanny lived in the attic room that my ex-wife had done up years ago.It's small but private."

"That sounds perfect."