Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
RILEY
“Hi. I’m Riley Stefano. Mr. Harrington said he was sending over the paperwork to add me to Grace Harrington’s file?” I say to the woman at the desk right inside the office door of the school.
“Are you another nanny or another sister-in-law?” She tosses her curled brown hair over her shoulder, licks her lips, and tosses me a smug smirk like she’s slyly insinuating something when what she’s saying is completely obvious.
“Nanny.”
The woman, Ms. Flanders, office secretary according to the sign on the desk, looks me up and down. Again. As an expensive private school, I’m sure they have their fair share of hired help doing drop-offs and pick-ups, but I look younger than I am and don’t dress like most nannies, so her critique isn’t totally unexpected. The rudeness is a bit much, though.
“We just never know with him.” She tuts, attempting to sound sad but landing somewhere closer to critical. “He’s forever adding and removing people from Grace’s approved list, and there’s a different uncle or aunt or grandparent picking her up every day. Poor girl needs some stability in her life. So does Cameron.”
Given the way she says ‘Cameron’ in a sultry voice, I think I know exactly the stability she’d like to offer. A single dad who looks like he does—tall, broad-shouldered, with a chiseled jawline and shockingly blue eyes—plus a powerful position with the salary that comes along with it, and a stern, authoritative presence, is probably the hottest commodity at this school with teachers, administrators, and apparently, the office staff. I can understand it. He’s definitely attractive, if you’re into serious and ‘stick up your ass’ types, which I’m not, thankfully, because Ms. Flanders seems to be feeling a bit territorial about my role as the new woman in Cameron’s life. The good thing is, I’m not really in his life. I’m in Grace’s.
“Sounds like she’s lucky to have a loving family who are willing to be involved in her school life. That’s probably pretty unusual here, right?” I pointedly glance behind me, out the window overlooking the hallway, where there are clearly very few parents and quite a few house staff picking up students.
“Hmm.” Her nose crinkles in distaste at my optimistic framing of the situation. “Does Grace know to meet you here?”
The door flies open, hitting the wall behind it with a bang. “Riley!” Grace screeches as she comes into the office. “You’re here! Can we go to Starbucks?”
Every word is hot on the heels of the last, and her voice only gets louder, which makes my smile grow. She’s a pistol, and I love it.
“She does,” I tell Ms. Flanders with a sense of satisfaction. “Hey, Grace,” I greet her warmly, holding up my fist for a bump, which she returns readily. “Yes, I’m here. And no, we can’t go to Starbucks.”
Grace’s smile melts into a comical pout when I say no to Starbucks but returns with a mischievous glint when I lift my eyebrow in response. “I had to try, you know?”
I laugh. “I know.”
“Grace?” Ms. Flanders says to get her attention, her voice remarkably friendlier than when she was speaking to me, “Tell your Daddy I said hello, okay? And to save me a dance at the Fall Ball. He’s chaperoning, right?”
The girl laughs so hard that she snorts. “He literally won’t care. He doesn’t even know your name, Ms. Flanders. I had to remind him so that he could send you the paperwork for Riley. And you know he always chaperones but never dances. Blech.” She sticks her tongue out and screws up her face like seeing her father cut a rug would be worse than sucking on a lemon. “I would literally die of embarrassment if he tried.”
The secretary’s smile has disappeared, her eyes have gone frosty, and she’s sitting up a little straighter like she’s the one with a broom handle up her ass. Grace takes a step closer to me, and even I’m preparing for some blowback from her unfiltered honesty. “Ready, Riley?” Grace asks, cutting her eyes toward the door like she’s ready to make a run for freedom, or at least to get far away from Ms. Flanders.
I nibble on my lip to keep from laughing at Grace’s rebuff of the woman’s obvious flirtation. Holding my elbow out, I answer, “Ready.” Grace slips her hand through, and we walk out together like I’m escorting her down the aisle and not simply out the front door.
Once we’re outside, Grace drops her hand and lets loose with a dramatic, full-body shiver. “She gives me the heebie-jeebies.” But before I can laugh, she pins me with an inquisitive look and asks, “Why did she say ‘Daddy’ all weird like that? I’m twelve, not five. I don’t call him Daddy anymore. He’s Dad.”
Nope, not touching that with a ten-foot pole. It was definitely inappropriate, but I’m not explaining that Ms. Flanders thinks her father is a DILF, especially on my first day and with Cameron still not completely convinced I’m the best choice for his daughter. “I’m not sure. For now, let’s go.”