Accidental Nanny to the Billionaire Heir

Chapter 001 Lyra

This is my own doing. Apparently, starting a New Year's resolution before New Year's jinxes it. I was so sure it was a sign when I was hanging out at the bakery with a couple of girlfriends. Yes, in a small town like Cheerful, you can end up hanging out at a bakery. That said, Cheerful’s bakery is nothing to turn your nose up at. People travel in from the city for Molly’s treats alone.

Ope, that sounds wrong even in my head. I know Noah, Molly’s grumpy man, wouldn’t be too happy about the phrasing, but I digress. Even in my own head, I digress.

I was sipping on my sugar cookie coffee while my friends and I were discussing what our resolution ideas were. I wanted change. I wanted momentum.

I’ve been back in Cheerful for six months now after being born and raised in this quaint, adorable, suffocatingly small town. After I graduated with my early education degree, I came back home. There wasn't much of a choice since I had to get out of my dorm, but I wasn't sad about it. I missed home. I’ve enjoyed my time being back. But living with my parents has gotten old fast, even though I adore them. It's just time for me to start the next chapter in my life. The problem is, Cheerful is a small town, and the local school district doesn't have a single opening.

As of right now, I'm part-time at the library because it gives me something to do. Being a teacher isn't my goal—I mean, I'd totally take it because I'm still not a hundred percent sure what my goal is—but I’ve been mulling over being an au pair. All through high school, I babysat for families all over Cheerful, and I loved it. Now the local high school kids have taken over those spots. There’s no room for me anymore. Plus, the pay isn't enough that I could live off of it on my own. The only option is being a full-time nanny, and not many people are searching for those in Cheerful.

Lately, I've been seeing where au pairs go abroad. It’s a contract for six months to a year, which sounds fun but also a little scary. When I was in college, the city could be overwhelming at times. I could handle it, but it felt exhausting. Not sure I could deal with a big city in a whole other country where I don't speak the language and can't find a decent bagel.

I know I can't keep dancing around making a choice. Being stagnant is getting old, and my parents really slipped back into the whole honeymoon phase. I don't blame them. They had five kids, and I was the last one to head off, leaving them with an empty nest.

My mom went a little stir-crazy at first, always showing up at my dorm with food and all kinds of crap, but she settled down after a little while. Now she and Dad are like teenagers who can't get enough of each other. It's easy to see how they ended up with five kids. It's also slightly traumatizing to witness in the kitchen before I've had my coffee.

So when I declared I was going to shake things up and pull the trigger on a new step in life, and my phone rang not even five minutes later, I took that as a sign from the universe. Or God. Or just really convenient timing.

I met Veena my first year in college. She'd been the Resident Advisor, RA, of my dorm. She was a few years older, and I was super sad when she graduated. We both were getting degrees in education, except Veena was getting her master's in it. She’s smart like that.

She works for a company called Tiny Treasures. They help place nannies and sitters of all kinds with families in need. It could be for small jobs like after-school pick-up or staying with the kids for a few hours while the parent runs errands. Or it could be with the same family a few times a week to become a full-time live-in nanny.

Veena got me on there, and I did it for about a year. I was what the company referred to as a Last Call, which meant an emergency sitter. It didn't have to be a life-or-death emergency, but whenever a parent needed a sitter last second or another employee canceled. It was quick and easy money, but I didn’t love it. It’s hard to connect with the kids when you’re being shuffled from one house to another. I often only saw a family one time, and while in college, I made it work. Once I graduated, I told them I was heading back home and to take me off the call list.

Veena put me right back on the list when she called me yesterday in a panic. A very wealthy and powerful man was in need of a live-in nanny right away. I wasn’t sure about it, but as Veena gave me more details about the situation, I really felt like this was the sign I asked for.

The client is a workaholic bachelor, Mr. Eve, who never planned to have children until he suddenly became a parent after the death of a family member. Veena said that the man wasn’t close to the brother that passed away, and all I could think was that if he wasn’t close to his brother, he likely wasn’t close to the child either.

That’s me making assumptions, since I’m not really sure. All of this information has been thrown at me, and it’s been a scramble. Including me packing up as much of my stuff as I could before driving back to the city.

Thankfully, or maybe not, my parents had taken off for a warm beach vacation, so I couldn’t get assaulted with a million questions about this decision. I don’t think they or my brothers would love the idea of me moving in with a random man even if Veena vouched for him and the company did a background check.

I’m not worried about some wealthy man trying to hit on me. I’m sure they have that area covered in their lives. They wouldn’t be looking to score with the small-town girl that has almost no sexual experience and doesn't really fit into their lifestyle. I'm safe. Invisible, basically.

By the time my parents return from their vacation and my dad sees I took his old truck, I'll already be gone. I’m planning on asking for forgiveness later, or whatever the saying is.

While I’m at a light, I double-check the address on my phone, and a horn blares behind me. I jump in my seat, looking in the rear-view mirror to see a man leaning out of his window, face red.

“Come on, lady, move it! We don’t have all day around here.”

“Sorry!” I shout back as I make my turn, waving frantically.

Not sure why, but I smile as I realize how much I missed the city. I hate driving here—it’s like a video game where everyone is trying to kill you—but it helped bringing a bunch of my stuff with me. The energy is different. It vibrates.

When I see the building, I start to wonder if I’m underdressed. It’s all glass and steel, shooting up into the sky like it owns the place. I pull to the front so I can ask the valet where to park my truck long-term.

“Afternoon.” The valet’s expression is skeptical as he looks over the truck. He’s wearing a uniform that probably costs more than my entire wardrobe. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Hi,” I chirp, hopping out. “I’m Lyra.”

I hold out my hand, and if possible, he looks even more apprehensive before he takes it. His grip is firm, professional, and very brief.

“Jones,” he says, introducing himself.

“Nice to meet you, Jones. I need to know where to park this old guy.” I pat the hood of the truck. It rumbles beneath my hand, a little rougher than the sleek black sedans lining the curb.

“Kinda?” Jones asks, eyebrows raising.

“Well, I guess, I mean I am.” It wasn’t clear how long I’ll be staying, and it’s possible I’ll be a placeholder until they find someone more suited. I’m getting the sense from this shiny building that I’m here because I was available and not because I’m the best fit. “I’m moving in with Mr. Eve.”

Jones' eyes widen a fraction. The professional mask slips for a microsecond. “You’re the au pair?”

“That’s me,” I say and give him a bright smile.

He tilts his head, and a smile tries to tug at the corner of his lips, but Jones gets that under control quickly as he stands up straighter. He clears his throat.

“Don’t worry about anything. We’ll park the truck for you and bring your items up,” he says as he opens the door for me.

“Oh really? That’s so nice,” I tell him. “Now listen, don’t judge me too harshly because this was last-minute, and I was tossing things into any bag I could find. My parents took all the luggage on their vacation, which, mind you, I wasn’t even asked to go on with them. I would have said no, but still, the offer would have been nice.”

I blurt out everything and leave myself a tad out of breath. I do that. Talk until the air runs out.

“It’s the thought that counts,” Jones agrees, his voice dry but not unkind.

“Exactly, see you get it,” I say. “So with that said, these trash bags aren’t trash.”

I nod to the bed of the truck, and Jones steps around to peer down at them. Four Hefty bags, cinched tight, sitting in the rusted bed of the pickup.

“I understand,” he says, holding out his hand for the keys. He doesn't even blink. Professional to the core.

“You can drive a stick, right?” I hand them over.

“I think I can manage.”

“Great, just watch the second gear; it gets sticky. You have to really wiggle it to get it to catch.”

This time he doesn’t fight his smile, but I swear it’s laced with amusement.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Miss Lyra. Welcome to the building.”

“Thanks, Jones.”

I take a breath, looking up at the glass tower. Here goes nothing.