Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
The other issue is that I would very much prefer it if these rich, famous, and cool people didn’t know what a pathetic figure I am. A twenty-five-year-old with no social life who hasn’t dated since dinosaurs roamed the earth. My favorite of which by the way is the diplodocus. I’ve started reading dinosaur books to Jamesy recently. He likes it when I make roaring noises.
And there I go proving my own point.
Again.
I have no life.
“You okay?” asks Ev with a gentle smile. “You’re not saying much.”
“Ah…”
Lena’s brows arch high on her face. “Oh no. Did we go too far? Have we scared you off?”
These women are so kind and supportive. The way they’re now nervously exchanging glances as if they might have upset me somehow. I can’t do it. I can’t lie to them. They are, after all, the closest thing I have to actual friends right now. And the truth is, I could do with some friends.
My mouth opens, and it all spills out. “He was standing in the kitchen half dressed this morning, and my eyes nearly fell out of my head. I mean, I had absolutely no cool. I almost choked on my own tongue. The man is a health hazard. He is without a doubt the most attractive male I have ever seen in my existence. But more than that, he seems so nice. And I don’t know what to say. I just don’t. I honestly haven’t been this inept when it comes to the opposite sex since middle school. It’s like it’s been so long since my hormones actually woke up and took notice of someone, I’ve forgotten how all of that works.” I pause to take a breath, and then cringe. “I don’t know how to date. Hell. I don’t even remember how to flirt. He talks to me, and my brain blanks. I just stand there like a complete idiot. It’s a total disaster!”
By the end of my speech, Lena’s brows are just about lost in her hairline they’re so high. Ev, meanwhile, seems to have frozen in place.
Shit. “I, um–”
“Stop. That was a lot, but it’s okay,” says my boss before pausing to take a sip of champagne. “Don’t worry, Jude. We’ve got you. We’re going to help you win over Dean.”
Lena claps her hands excitedly. “This is going to be so much fun.”
Chapter Two
“I’m not so sure about this,” I say. Though I doubt anyone heard me from beneath the layers of the deep conditioning treatment on my hair and sheet mask on my face. They were also pretty busy selecting outfits for me from the range of clothes and accessories Anne bought over. She, like me, has booty but not much breast. When she isn’t heavily pregnant with her second child as she is currently, of course.
“A makeover is always a worthwhile investment in time and resources,” answers Lena. “Trust us, Jude. Good hair and makeup paired with a great outfit can give your confidence a huge boost.”
Ev holds up a red halter neck gown. “This is seriously sexy.”
“Yeah, but what possible excuse can she make for hanging out at home in an evening gown?” Anne, the voice of reason, sits on the floor pushing a wooden toy train around for Jamesy. He’s adorable and delighted by all of the attention. Having someone to play with is basically peak happiness for a small child. It’s right up there with cuddles and cake.
“I haven’t shaved my legs in a while, either,” I say.
Anne nods somberly. “I can’t even reach mine. I assume they’re still there, but with this bump, seeing anything below my belly button is an issue.”
“Leg hair is not a problem. We can work with that.” Ev moves on to a pair of leather leggings. “These are very cool girl rock star. I say they have possibilities.”
“And they’re wipe clean,” says Anne. “Much more practical than you’d imagine. Just don’t be foolish like me and attempt to wear them in warm weather. Leather does not breathe.”
My own wardrobe was quickly deemed insufficient for the mission of winning me a man. A decision that was harsh but fair. Being a nanny is usually more about comfort and convenience than style. I have a fine selection of tees, sweaters, jeans, and leggings. My current position doesn’t really have a dress code. Not a bad thing. One job I heard of required you to wear baggy, boring clothing in the hope that the man of the house wouldn’t turn his wandering eye your way. I mean, it’s not like affairs between celebrities and nannies never happen. Google the topic. The rumors are rife. But that seemed a bit extreme to me.
Another contract I was offered detailed the need to fit in with both the child and their parents’ chosen aesthetic by wearing certain brands in specific colors when out in public. Which would be fine if the position included a clothing allowance. Which it did not. Some rich people are super demanding while being cheap.