Curvy Nanny for the Mafia Daddy (Curvy Nannies for Single Dads #6)

Chapter 1

Serenity

“Yeah, I mean, you’re pretty hot for an older chick.” That’s what this man—who is only four years older than me, thank you very much—said to me over a mediocre bottle of Bordeaux he ordered with the same confidence he probably used to choose his entirely too-strong cologne.

I stared at him, silent, letting the words hang in the air like a bad smell while I wondered whether Toni had finally snapped. Maybe this was her revenge for all the times I gave her the most difficult parents because she could handle them.

This was what happened when your employees found love: they started touting the benefits of being in love while those of us not in love—namely, me—got shoved onto dating apps, into blind setups, and onto bar stools where you met men like Samuel.

Samuel was forty-five, an investment banker from Houston with a full head of hair—mostly—and straight white teeth that practically glowed in the low golden light of the wine bar.

He clearly believed both made him an irresistible catch.

Sure, he was wealthy with a stable career, but he lacked polish, and he wasn’t nearly as interesting as he thought.

In fact, the condensation sliding down my glass was a more interesting conversationalist.

“You’re older than me,” I reminded him, taking a sip of the Bordeaux and resisting the urge to grimace. It was an abysmal vintage, which made it perfect for this date.

He waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, but men age like fine wine and women, well… you know.”

I tilted my head, a small smile curving my lips. “No. I don’t know. Please, enlighten me.”

His smile faltered. “Come on, you know what I mean.”

“I really don’t. But I’m dying to hear the rest of this sentence. Go on.”

A flicker of discomfort crossed his face, the first uncertainty he’d shown all night.

I leaned forward, resting my chin in my hand and watching him squirm.

Part of me enjoyed it. The other part wondered, briefly and traitorously, if this was why I was over forty and still alone.

Too mouthy. Too direct. Hard to please, successful, and I didn’t take shit from men, especially when I was supposed to smile while they insulted me.

“You’d have more luck out here if you were easier,” he muttered into his glass.

I barked out a laugh. “Why should I make things easier for you, Samuel? You just insulted me. And now what? I should pat you on the head like a good boy for it?”

His cheeks went blotchy red. He pushed back from the table so abruptly his chair screeched along the polished floor. “I don’t have to put up with this. Not from you.”

“Of course you don’t,” I said, keeping my voice calm, almost bored. “I’m sure there’s a daycare letting out where you’ll find a girl at your maturity level. Run along.”

He sputtered and, failing to come up with a cutting comeback, stalked out.

The waitress approached a moment later, her smile twitching but trying really hard not to. “Bad date?”

“Almost as bad as this Bordeaux. Bring me a glass of something red, Italian, and full-bodied, please. Hold the regret.”

She laughed, taking the bottle with her and returning with a gorgeous glass of Barolo, which almost made Samuel’s presence worth it.

Almost.

I sipped it slowly, savoring the flavors as they exploded on my tongue.

Nothing beat a good glass of wine, especially after a trying interaction with a man who thought he was God’s gift to womankind.

“Damn good wine,” I said to myself when it was finished, paying the bill and heading out into the warm night air.

Another bad date behind me meant I had a few hours left to head back to the office and finish some work I’d left incomplete to go on a date I didn’t even want to be on.

It was just another confirmation that romance wasn’t in the cards for me. I wasn’t even upset about it anymore, not the way I’d been once I’d gotten over my first and last heartbreak in my twenties. Or in my thirties when I thought there was still hope.

I’d given up on love and poured all of my considerable time and energy into Elite Nanny Service, growing my business to the point that I had a waiting list, a big fat bank account that allowed me designer shoes, and a wardrobe a twenty-year-old me never dreamed possible.

The trade-off, in my opinion, was well worth it. Louboutins don’t leave you hanging.

I stepped inside the building that housed my baby. It was dark except for the soft glow from the hall sconces and the ambient lavender scent that drifted from the diffusers Toni refused to stop refilling. I sent her a text.

Me: No more lavender.

Instead of responding, Toni’s face appeared on my screen, and I answered with a laugh.

“No more lavender. Seriously. It’s making me sick.

” My heels clicked on the pale oak floors.

The space was exactly what I’d wanted when I opened the Houston branch: sleek and modern, but not cold.

No one, not even the ultra-wealthy, wanted to walk into a sterile environment to hire someone they had to trust with their children.

Warm lighting, plush chairs, watercolor prints, and a gallery wall of candid photos featuring nannies holding babies, toddlers painting, and teenagers grinning beside the women who helped raise them.

It was a space where families felt welcome.

It was a place where my nannies felt needed and valued.

It was a place I created, and to me, it felt like home since I spent more hours here than I did in the small house I bought years ago.

“That’s not even possible,” Toni scoffed. “It’s literally for keeping you calm and relaxed.”

Slipping off my heels and setting them beside the desk, I laughed.

“That doesn’t negate the nausea.” I flexed my toes into the carpet under my desk and let out a silent sigh of relief.

Work was a balm for me because numbers didn’t lie and paperwork didn’t pretend to love you only to drop you without explanation.

“I think you’re full of it, no offense,” she added with a chuckle. “How was the date?”

“Terrible,” I answered, already focused on the new nanny hires this week. Several files sat on my desk with CPR certifications, background checks, and skills. They were ready to find families, and I had a waiting list of parents who were about to get good news. “Never again, Toni.”

Business was booming, a dream come true.

“Maybe you need one of those fancy matchmaking services, kind of like the one you own and operate.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s a hard no thank you from me.” I preferred my long dates and late nights. The rest of Houston could deal with first dates and tight smiles. “He told me I was hot…for an older chick.”

“I’ll kill him,” she growled and immediately sighed. “Sorry.”

“No need for murder or apologies. I had a fantastic glass of Barolo that was the highlight of the evening. I appreciate the sentiment, if not the outcome, but it’s late and I’m sure Brady is missing you.”

Toni sighed dramatically. “He’s needy like that,” she joked. “I’ll be in bright and early tomorrow. We’ll talk more then. Bye,” she said quickly, ending the call before I could tell her she could stay home, not that she would listen.

I lost track of time, working on matching my new hires with families until the blue light of the screen dried out my eyes.

When I finally shut down my laptop, the office was silent, but not the comfortable silence of an empty office.

It was the kind of lonely silence that reminded me no matter how capable or successful I was, some nights just felt empty.

I gathered my things, slipped back into my heels, and locked up behind me. The Houston heat had cooled slightly, but the air still felt thick, like the night was at a standstill. My footsteps echoed as I crossed the parking lot.

Maybe it was the leftover irritation from Samuel. Maybe it was the lateness of the hour. Maybe it was just the weight of being in my forties with a life that looked perfect on paper and felt…fine. Just fine.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

I wasn’t sad or lonely, just realistic. I wanted love; I could admit that much to myself.

But I no longer believed in the concept, and therefore, I couldn’t hope to find success in finding it myself.

I believed in it once, a long time ago. I’d been recklessly, foolishly, and completely in love, and it had burned every layer of skin I had until it reached the bone.

Love was a sham, and finding it was a crapshoot, one I was no longer willing to take a risk on. I built a life that worked for me, a business that mattered, and a reputation I was proud of. That was enough.

I guarded my heart and gave it to no one.

Not ever again.