CHAPTER 4
Valentina
P erched at a table near the coffee shop entrance, I cradle my vanilla latte, the cup’s warmth seeping into my palms. After yesterday’s coffee mishap, I should avoid coffee. Not today, though. I’ll blame Mrs. Turner for choosing this spot for our meeting.
It’s cute, modern yet rustic, with exposed brick walls showcasing local art. The aroma of freshly ground coffee zaps the air, enough to tempt even the most indifferent passerby. I’ve visited Manhattan several times, but this coffee shop is new to me. Customers stream in and out, clutching disposable cups, pastries, or both.
I focus on the door, ready to spot Mrs. Turner upon her arrival. My mother emailed her about my interest in the job, and Mrs. Turner called within an hour, eager for a phone interview. She hired me on the spot and scheduled a follow-up meeting for this morning.
My next sip leaves a faint lipstick imprint on the cup. I settle deeper into the plush chair, surrounded by chatter and the whir of machines crafting drinks.
The bustling environment soothes me until a woman strides in and scans the coffee shop as if looking for someone. Dressed in a cream blazer over black slacks, she must be Mrs. Turner. She pauses, retrieves a phone from her handbag, and taps on it.
Remaining seated, I watch her finger move on her phone. My phone beeps. It has to be her. She slips her phone into her purse and heads toward the counter, choosing the shortest line. While the four baristas keep the lines moving, I check the new message.
Mrs. Turner: I’m here. ~ Judy
At quarter past eight, we’re both early for our eight-thirty meeting. Good thing I arrived thirty minutes ahead of time so she didn’t have to wait on me.
Once she steps away from the line to await her drink, I stand up, leaving my white jean jacket on the chair to reserve our spot. Drink in hand, I navigate through the crowded coffee shop. Unlike yesterday’s tailored suit, today’s knee-length teal dress and strappy flats make it easy to move.
“Hello.” I greet her.
She turns, her eyes narrowing and lips pressing into a cautious line—an instinctive New Yorker reaction to an unexpected greeting. “Hi.”
“I’m Valentina.” I smile. “I saw you texting me when you walked in.”
“You made good time.” Her brow lifts as she adjusts her silk scarf. The elegant accessory complements her refined presence, and her subtle fragrance blends with the aromatic coffee.
“You’ve made good time too, Mrs. Turner.”
“Please, call me Judy.” Her voice floats over the sound of steaming milk. Then we shake hands, and the barista calls her order.
“I have a table for us.” I beckon once she has her beverage.
“Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”
“It’s no trouble at all.” I lead her back to our table and pull out a chair for her.
“Thank you.” Judy sets down her black handbag and sips her drink. Her brown hair touches her shoulders, and any gray is hardly noticeable. Her blue eyes are kind as they peer into mine. She could be around my mother’s age, though her stylish appearance suggests younger.
“As we discussed during our phone conversation, finding a good nanny for my grandchildren is crucial. I haven’t mentioned this, but they have no mother—”
“What happened to her?” Concern for the kids’ loss has me forgetting my manners and interrupting.
“Not in the way you might think.” Judy waves a hand, the nails free of polish. “That’s beside the point. But I must say how your reputation precedes you. My friends who’ve employed your services through Proverbs Twenty-Two Six Agency have highlighted you as the ideal nanny. Attentive and nurturing, they’ve said. Did you know twenty different reviews mentioned those specific traits?”
Her words warm me more than the latte, and the sweet detail’s an espresso shot to my self-esteem.
She nudges aside her coffee. “You’re what my grandchildren need.”
“I appreciate your kind words.” Especially after yesterday’s disheartening interview.
“The very reason I wanted to meet you.” Judy leans in, her expression earnest. “The schedule. It’s complicated... hectic perhaps. Are you flexible enough to commute to Meadowbrook most weekends?”
“That’s close to Hudson, right?”
She dips her head. “An hour drive or so. On some days, you’ll take the kids from Meadowbrook to school in Manhattan, including during their breaks, and in case they get sick and need to be tended to in their home while their dad is at work.” She gives me an apologetic smile. “Staying the night on weekends and during their breaks is a must.”
“That won’t be a problem.” I’m not doing anything else after all. “Just to confirm: Eden is eleven, favorite color hot pink.” I tick off one finger, then the next. “Atticus’s favorite color is blue, and Felix’s is green, eight-year-old twins.”
Judy’s eyes sparkle. “Great memory.” Her smile fades and flattens into a thin line. “Eden’s been struggling lately. Even a simple math test sends her into a whirl of anxiety.”
I nod, making a mental note.
“The boys have high energy.”
“I love high energy.” I tinker with my cup, drinking in memories of other kids I’ve watched in the past.
“To summarize your role...” Judy then clarifies my job description and schedule, which includes picking up the kids from school in Manhattan at 2:45 p.m., getting them to her house, helping them with homework, and taking them to their respective after-school programs. “Some days might require preparing them a meal.”
The more I think about this job, the more I relax. It will be a great distraction. Plus, while the kids are in school, I can look for jobs, which is why I have to be upfront with Judy.
“I’m a psychologist, so—”
“You are?” Her voice rises and her eyes brighten. “This is even better!”
“Nannying is not my permanent career. My mother owns the agency, and whenever I’m not employed, I get to help out.”
Her brows knit together, and she reaches for her cup. “How long will you be with us?”
“Three months, for sure.” That should give her enough time to find my replacement. “Four, if it takes me that long to find a position.”
She nods, then flicks her gaze to the big window spilling light into the room. A silence falls between us, merging with the surrounding hum and chatter and the whirring machines.
Pedestrians stride along the sidewalk, their faces marked by the resolve and fatigue of navigating urban life. The occasional taxi zips by alongside other cars, and cyclists weave through the gaps.
“Three months with a good nanny is better than the instability of the nannies we’ve had recently.” Her voice pulls me back.
These kids’ nannies have been constantly quitting? That’s worrisome. “Um, why haven’t the nannies lasted long?”
She lets out a soft chuckle. “That’s another thing I was going to mention. Their dad believes I’m the only one, besides him, capable of taking care of his kids.”
“Ah.” I wrap my hands around my latte cup. The vanilla scent floods my nostrils before I take a sip. It’s cooler now, but a perfect balance of bitterness and sweetness, much like my current situation. I want to help the kids, but if their dad is against having a nanny, my job could be challenging. Been there, done that. “What makes you think he’ll be okay with me taking care of his children?”
Kindness gleams in her blue eyes. “Because I believe in you. And if you’re as good as I’ve heard, you’re going to disregard their dad and do what’s in the children’s best interest.”
“I can do that.” I sound more confident than I am. I’ve spent my journalism career tackling challenges and being driven by revenge. I did the job well, and the ratings spiked until the show’s last six months.
“As for compensation...” Judy mentions a figure far beyond what she discussed last night.
“That’s a lot.” I gasp, my hand finding my chest.
“I’m going to convince you to stay for at least four months.” She bats her long lashes. “I’ll email you the paperwork by the end of the day.”
I encourage her to ask any questions if my résumé and credentials on the nanny website weren’t clear enough. Clients who sign up for an account can access our nanny résumés online.
“I’m pleased you’re up-to-date with your first aid training.” She lifts her cup in a toast, and I lift mine to toast hers. “I’ll get your driver’s license from you this afternoon. I’m so relieved you’re available. My husband and I have a trip planned in less than three weeks.”
She flicks her ring finger, and the diamond sparkles. “I got remarried last year, and now Phil and I are ready to travel.”
“Sounds fun. What’s the destination?”
“We’re doing my dream trip—three months in Europe. We’re hoping to keep it laid-back, with enough time at each destination to soak up the flavor.”
I nod, sipping my drink as she recounts all the countries they’ll be visiting.
Then she pulls out her phone, probably checking the time. “I need to get going. My grandkids have a presentation in an hour. Can you meet the kids this afternoon? Maybe come to my house at three-fifteen?”
“Of course.”
“Great. I’ll text the address. My house will be where you’ll spend your afternoons during the week until their dad comes to pick them up.”
Commuting an hour from Meadowbrook daily to go to school here doesn’t make much sense. Aren’t there schools in Meadowbrook? I want to ask, but I don’t need to know everything before the first day. Their father must care about their welfare if he keeps thinking the nannies aren’t good enough. I wonder what he’ll think of me.