Chapter 5 Nanny Onboard
Chapter Five
NANNY ONBOARD
Jessa
Theo talked the entire way out of West Tower. I barely got a word in edge-wise, but I didn’t mind. The kid was like a walking radio station—fast-talking, enthusiastic, completely unaware that I was still trying to catch my breath after seeing his father again.
“I’m in fourth grade now,” he bragged as we reached the sleek lobby.
“My teacher’s name is Mrs. Callahan—she’s nice, but she gives a lot of math homework.
I’m kinda good at it. Dad says that if I’m smart enough, I can take over West Games someday.
But don’t tell him I wanna be a hockey player instead.
My best friend Mitch sits next to me in class.
We both play hockey. He’s right-wing; I’m center.
I’m better at slap shots, though. Mitch says that’s because I have longer arms, but Dad says it’s because I practice more. Dad always says practice makes—”
“Perfect,” I filled in, smiling smugly at McDaniels as he held the door open ahead of us. I winked at him as if letting him know I won the nanny job, not that other red-headed woman.
Theo grinned up at me slyly. “No. Dad says practice makes me better than everyone else.”
So one overly healthy ego raised another? I kept my chuckle to myself.
Outside, the city woke up with horns blaring, a whisper of wind, a blur of cars, and people rushing everywhere.
Theo walked with purpose, his hockey gear bag bumping against his legs as we approached a waiting black SUV parked at the curb.
A tall man in a tailored dark suit and mirrored sunglasses stood beside it, one hand on the door handle.
“Morning, Brock!” Theo called. “This is Dad’s driver and sometimes his bodyguard. This is Jessa, my new nanny.”
The man nodded, all business, built like a linebacker.
His beard was neatly trimmed, and reddish-gold in the morning light.
Shame the sunglasses hid his eyes, but I’d guess they were a Scottish blue.
One-hundred percent, he looked the kind of man who could protect and serve.
I knew women back home who would fall at his feet, but he wasn’t my type.
Unfortunately, I was more attracted to the man in the suit paying his salary.
“Nice to meet you, Brock,” I said, extending my hand.
He didn’t take it. Just grunted something low and unintelligible before opening the door for Theo.
Okay then. Maybe shaking hands wasn’t in his job description.
Theo climbed in first, still talking like he never ran out of battery power. “Dad says Brock used to be in the Marines. He can drive like a race-car driver and fight like a superhero.”
“That true?” I asked as I slid in after Theo.
Brock didn’t answer but held out his phone. “Number, please, for Mr. West.”
I punched my phone number in and figured Brock was probably one of those silent types. Man of few words. Always on alert for danger. It took restraint not to roll my eyes at him when he peeked back at me in the rearview mirror. The man could at least fake a little small talk.
I buckled my seatbelt. Theo kept chatting about his favorite players on the Ice Dog team and how his friend Mitch once got his stick signed by the goalie. I listened, half-absorbing, half-studying him.
As a miniature version of Griffin, he held the same gaze with a sharp jawline and storm-gray eyes, though cuter around the edges with his baby fat still present. His hair, a tousled chestnut brown, completed the picture of boyish mischief and charm. But unlike Griffin, Theo’s smile came easily.
Bright, curious, a little too confident for his age—all compensated for his father spending too much time at the office, I’d bet. But Theo was endearing as hell.
As he talked, an ache grew in my heart, imagining him years from now, hockey skates slung over one shoulder, teasing the little brother or sister growing inside of me.
I prayed for a girl. Griffin already had a boy. I wanted to give him a girl. Would Theo be the protective type, the big brother who’d stand guard over her, warning off the first small-town asshole who tried to put the moves on her when she was twenty-one?
The thought stole my breath, the idea as terrifying as it was comforting.
I was still trying to wrap my head around the morning’s chaos.
Seeing Griffin again, my heart had nearly launched out of my chest. Even more sinfully gorgeous than I remembered, especially barefoot and in sweats.
That deep, steady voice rising above the chaos like he ruled the world.
Which, technically he kind of did, given his wealth.
Theo continued to talk and talk, but I didn’t mind.
I took in every word, analyzing it for valuable information, like about his favorite subject—recess.
How the nanny he had three nannies ago made the best cookie-brownie combo bars and how much he loved eating them every day after school until Dad found out and fired her for not following the food plan.
How he hoped Dad would make it to his game tonight…
My phone buzzed with incoming orders from Griffin.
Instructions arrived one after another, like perfectly organized little soldiers:
Theo’s Schedule: Drop-off and pickup times. A list of approved after-school snacks.
So much for baking cookie-brownies.
Hockey bag: Leave in the SUV until practice. After every game and practice, make Theo take the gear back home and clean it in the guest bathroom and hang it to dry. Brock will buy him a new gear bag today.
Medical Info: File attached.
Emergency Contacts: Spreadsheet attached.
I peeked at the list, which included him and his brothers. And a woman’s name, Elsa. Presumably, Theo’s mother. The name alone sounded elegant enough for designer handbags and a size-zero wardrobe.
House Access: Building management has your name and permission to let you in.
There was even a labeled folder—Nanny Onboarding. Complete this application for employment records.
Then came the kicker: For professional reasons, it’s best we keep things all about Theo, okay?
My hand dropped to my stomach. What about the baby?
Needless to say, this morning didn’t go as I’d planned. I’d come to New York thinking I could handle facing Griffin again. Bringing a message he probably never anticipated in his orderly life. Clearly, I’d overestimated my abilities.
I scrolled through, torn between being impressed with his efficiency and mildly terrified and irritated with myself. One thing became clear: Griffin ran his life like a business.
I glanced at Theo, still talking a mile a minute, having moved on to chatter about a video game he loved. Cute kid. Clearly in need of attention. How hard could this be?
I’d helped raise two younger sisters. A nine-year-old boy couldn’t be that different. But once my news came to light, once the baby was acknowledged, would things change? Or what if Griffin refused to believe the child was his?
I hoped I wouldn’t regret this. I’d help him today by watching over Theo, but we’d see what this evening brought once Griffin and I talked more.
Ten minutes later, Brock pulled smoothly to the curb in front of an elite-looking private school with stone arches and wrought-iron gates.
Kids clamored everywhere in The Thompson School-approved navy sweatshirts, sweaters, and khaki pants and skirts, and hurried through the doors, backpacks bouncing.
Theo unbuckled and turned to me. “See ya later.”
“Have a good day at school,” I said, stepping out of the vehicle to see him off.
A voice called, “Theo! Wait up!”
A boy with freckles and a mop of red hair jogged up beside the car—Mitch, I assumed—followed by a woman in oversized sunglasses, athleisure wear, and carrying a Stanley coffee mug like it was an accessory.
“You must be the new nanny flavor of the month,” the woman said brightly, extending a manicured hand. “I’m Clare. Mitch’s mom.”
I shook it, summoning my best polite smile. “Jessa. The uh… new flavor.”
“Welcome to the circus.” Clare removed her glasses and waved. “Hi Brock.”
The ex-marine didn’t so much as flinch. He gave a curt nod that equated to a greeting in his line of work. I was glad to see it wasn’t just me getting the stone-face treatment.
“I don’t think he likes women,” I whispered.
“A bodyguard that hot? He has to be into women. And I’ll damn well keep trying to prove it. I’ll break him down one day, just wait and see.”
We shared a knowing glance. I liked her already, although it was obvious she was several classes above me. Nothing about her screamed small-town fish out of water in the big city. More like a woman who married and divorced very well, given no ring on her finger.
A girl about Theo’s age stepped out from behind Clare, her nose stuck in a book, her brunette hair in one long braid cascading down one shoulder. Her long dark lashes slowly blinked at Theo, and she gave a slight wave and a smile as she passed the boys.
Theo ducked his head and kicked the ground and pretended not to see her.
“Go on, boys!” Clare chirped. “Follow Annie and don’t be late.”
The little girl must be her daughter with a crush on Theo. How cute and interesting? I thought of all the crushes my sisters had on boys over the years, and a pang of homesickness hit.
“I’ll be here after school, Theo,” I called.
“You better be,” he said in all seriousness. “One nanny last year forgot to pick me up the day Brock was sick. I missed warm-ups and got benched.”
“Ouch,” I said. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here—with or without Brock.”
He gave me a fist bump before racing up the steps.
Clare faced me. “About that. I have a massage booked and afraid I won’t be done in time. Would you mind taking Mitch and Annie to the game too? I can drop his gear at the arena before my massage and meet you there after.”
“Sure. No problem.” I answered, just trying to be friendly.
As we drove off, Brock grunted, resuming his statue impersonation.
“So what’s your story? The faithful bodyguard, wary of newcomers?” I asked
He grunted again, the use of caveman language apparently his preference.
“Good talk,” I said dryly. “I guess I have nothing to do until Theo’s out of school. Want to grab coffee somewhere?”
“I have work to do. But I can drop you off—and I suggest you read through the information the boss just sent you because you already broke one rule.”
Damn. The man had a voice like butter. Like the best spicy romance audiobook narrator, the kind guaranteed to bring you to the brink of orgasm by words and tone alone.
Griffin had a similar voice I’d been privy to when I stripped him down to just a man in bed with me, not a CEO in control.
For one night back in Holly Creek, he growled how perfect my body was, called me a good girl for milking every drop from his cock.
He appreciated my curves then… Now pregnant, more curves were surely on the way. Would I still be attractive to him?
I squirmed in my seat and cleared my throat. “And which rule would that be, Brock?”
“The one that says we don’t give rides to friends. Period.”
“Bet that one is your favorite so you don’t have to endure Clare’s friendly nature if she ever needs a ride to hockey games or practice, hm?”
He snorted and looked out his window. Yeah, I had him pegged. He’d go for Clare in a heartbeat, but his professionalism held him back. Admirable quality though.
We turned onto Fifth Avenue; the sun hitting the sidewalks and shimmering windows of elegance and luxury.
Rarely had I visited the city. Not like I had a choice all these years looking after Mom and the girls on an extremely tight budget.
Here I was now; for how long, who knew? A day?
Seven more months until the baby popped out?
I might as well take advantage and see the sights.
“Can you stop up here, Brock? I’ll walk.” As soon as he pulled over, I hopped out.
“Call an hour before school pickup, and I’ll come get you,” he called. The SUV pulled away, leaving me standing on the sidewalk with the crisp city wind brushing my hair.
Fifth Avenue, full of window displays and polished people with important places to be, proved to be just the elixir I needed. I stopped at a small café on the corner, ordered a hot cocoa, and took a seat by the window to observe the hustle and bustle.
The city was a long way from Holly Creek’s quiet, charming streets and diners that smelled like pancakes, pie, and coffee.
I missed home, but this was a chance to start over.
I pressed a hand to my belly, still flat but full of a secret.
Life would change drastically when the baby came.
We would either be here with Griffin or back home splitting custody.
I’d prefer to have this baby with him, if my heart had a say in the matter.
As I stirred my drink, my thoughts circled back to this morning and the way his voice clipped, running late.
From the tension coiled in his shoulders to the exhaustion in his eyes, Griffin hadn’t exactly looked thrilled to see me.
Maybe he was just overwhelmed. Or I’d imagined the connection we had in Holly Creek in the first place.
No matter what, I needed to talk with him tonight and get things sorted out.
With time to kill, I checked in with Mom and Aunt Patty.
They assured me they were fine. Pauline and Charlene texted me back on our group chat from school.
Charlene had been named as part of the senior high homecoming court.
Pauline said Richard Buchanan offered her a job at his stables.
Everyone was fine. I’d been gone a day, and so far they’d survived without me.
Aunt Patty’s voice replayed in my head from the day before as I had packed my car to leave: Tell him about the baby, Jessa. No matter what happens, it’s time for you to take care of your needs now.
She’d divorced and moved back home with us, available to take care of Mom and help with my sisters. She worked as a legal aid from home, making good money; the girls had part-time jobs now, and everyone pitched in. They’d all survive without me.
When I told them about the baby, Mom and Aunt Patty agreed that I’d done enough for all of them. I needed to strike out and do something for myself for once.
They were right. But staring at a skyline that belonged to Griffin West and his world, I wasn’t sure how to tell him that one night in Holly Creek had changed both of our lives forever—the proof was growing inside me.