The Nanny Pact (The Life Plan #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Paige

Up until two days ago, I was organized, which is how I like to live my life.

Neat. Ordered. No room for chaos or uncertainty.

Unfortunately, when you’re a type A person, it doesn’t take much disarray to tip the scales out of your favor.

Coping with uncertainty is a skill I have been trying to hone, without success, for the last thirty-two years.

“Your nanny already quit? Paige, you’re not even in the country.

How does she know working for you would be awful?

” Gwen, my younger sister, asks as she haphazardly folds more clothes to put into my son, Joey’s, suitcase which is open on the spare bed.

Her long brown hair falls in loose waves around her narrow face when she presses on the pile of clothes she’s already packed.

As she shoves the outfits willy-nilly into the suitcase, I cringe.

While I appreciate the help, everything will be wrinkled and disorganized by the time we arrive in Bedford, England.

It’s spring, so those outfits should be on top.

I’ll have to spend my time putting the clothes in order and ironing when I should be preparing.

As the project manager for a new low-income housing development by RR MacDonald, an international building company, the one-year transfer to England is an incredible opportunity to show I’m capable of learning and applying local regulations and working with new team members.

To be asked to oversee the implementation on such a big initiative was a huge boost to my confidence.

Not to mention that working in the same building as their global head office could have other huge perks if I do well.

“At first, my nanny told me she found another job that pays more.”

“Maybe you should buck up and take some cash out of those deep pockets.” Gwen rolls a pair of tiny pants and shoves them into a hole. She hasn’t even placed the pants near the matching shirt.

“I tried to outbid the person stealing my nanny, but she said she’d driven past the house I’ve rented, and she didn’t like that it was so far away from the city center.” I tuck my almost shoulder-length platinum-blond hair behind my ears.

“That’s not a good sign. How’d you pick the place again?”

“Photos that Kate, my real estate person over there, sent me. The job offer and everything came together so quickly, I didn’t have time to go to England.

With Joey and all . . .” It pained me to rely on someone else to select an appropriate place to live, but trekking overseas with a toddler just to view a house seemed over the top, even for me, given the tight timeline.

Instead, I sent over my requirements, and Kate assured me the house she selected met all my criteria. Within the company budget. Three bedrooms. Decent yard for Joey. Not too far from Bedford.

After my conversation with the former nanny, I’m having some doubts.

Kate was clear that the house was ‘a little drive from Bedford’ but now I’m wondering whether I should have mapped the distance.

I’ve been so busy that it’s been hard to be my usual precise self.

Apparently, finding a house with a good-sized garden in the company’s price range hadn’t been an easy task.

“In desperation, I posted an ad for a nanny on a local community page today. Zero luck with the agencies given my timeline. I need a live-in nanny, considering the hours I’ll be working.

It’s getting to the point where I’ll take whoever is able to start on time.

” The thought makes me nervous. Every other nanny I’ve had has been carefully vetted.

Not that I’ll skimp on references, but the woman I hire might not be the best person for Joey. “Why is it this hard to find someone?”

“Are you having regrets?” Gwen asks as she flicks another tiny shirt and proceeds to butcher the folding.

I’m not sure how we were raised in the same family, but I’m as detailed and precise as she is lackadaisical and easygoing.

For this reason, any time I’ve had a nanny quit on me or I’ve fired them in a huff of annoyance, which has been, honestly, a few times, she blames my rigid standards.

Hard to please. Hard to live with. According to her, I’m hard work.

The fact that I’ve resisted refolding every piece of clothing she’s packed should be an indication I’m capable of change. Or at least willing to wait until she leaves. We haven’t even argued once. Our final parting gift to each other.

“When you get a nanny,” Gwen says, “if you manage to keep them for the whole year you’re there, I’ll be shocked. Doesn’t even seem possible to me. You and a nanny getting along for a whole year is a high fantasy. Can’t take place on earth.”

Although these comments aren’t new, for some reason, my hackles rise at the suggestion I’m impossible to tolerate or please. “The next nanny I hire, assuming they actually start the job, will be with me for the whole year. Guaranteed. No issues.”

“Care to place a bet on that?” Gwen gives me a sly smile. “You’re getting this fancy new promotion to an overseas job site, so you can afford one little bet.”

I shouldn’t. Betting is dangerous and reckless, and it’s normally the last thing I’m interested in.

But I hate the smug look on her face. She doesn’t think I’ll say yes, and that I’ll back down.

Admit that I am, in fact, difficult to work for.

High standards aren’t a bad thing, despite what Gwen believes.

“You’ll already be living in my house for the year at cost,” I say.

“That can’t be part of the bet. That’s us being nice to each other.

You don’t want to move everything out of here and rent your house for a year to a stranger, and I liked your rental price.

” She bats her brown eyes at me, which are so different from my deep-blue ones.

“Admit you won’t be able to keep the same nanny. We all know it.”

The chaotic, shitty week I’ve had makes me defiant.

There is no reason I can’t make a relationship work with a live-in nanny for a year.

My penchant for firing them or them quitting doesn’t have to happen there.

British people are cultured and dignified.

They’re probably organized too. My kind of people, I’m sure of it.

Keeping the same person won’t be as impossible as it is in Grand Rapids.

“Name your price,” I say.

“Safari for two. Macklin and I want to go to Kenya.”

“Kenya?” I scoff. “That’ll be like—”

“Really expensive, yeah. Obviously, we can’t afford it.

But you’ll be an ex-pat, right? At the top of the salary grid.

The company is paying for your housing and your car.

Or at least that’s what you told Mom and Dad.

Cost only matters if you don’t think you can keep a nanny for a year.

But you’ve said it’ll be no problem. If you don’t mean that . . .”

She’s playing me, and even though I can recognize it, I’m too emotionally wrung out from every other decision I’ve had to make on the fly the last two weeks to control myself.

When I interviewed for the promotion weeks ago and didn’t hear back, I assumed I wouldn’t get it.

Any preliminary planning I’d put into the idea of moving was pushed to the back of my mind.

Then they offered it, and my life hit the fast-forward button.

The timing, at least with my current nanny was good, since Christine had just given her two weeks’ notice.

Everything else has been rushed and a tad too chaotic for my liking.

“A safari for two. It’s a deal. Better start saving up. You won’t be taking it with my money.” I also suspect she won’t be taking it with Macklin. She gets bored quickly, with everything, even him.

“I can’t even keep track of the number of nannies you’ve had since Joey was born.

Ten? Twelve? And he’s not even two-and-a-half years old yet.

” Gwen laughs. “I’ll be going on safari.

” She tosses a partially folded T-shirt into the suitcase.

“I can’t wait to meet this wonder nanny who won’t quit and won’t drive you nuts. ”

“No sabotaging.” I point my finger at her.

“If you come to visit, you can’t try to persuade my nanny to quit.

” Not only would that lose me the bet, but it would completely screw me over.

Unlike being at home, I can't beg my parents to take Joey for a few days while I search for a replacement. There will be no one to watch him on short notice in England. I’ll be completely reliant on the nanny, which is another reason I’m sure I can make any situation work. I won’t have a choice.

Now all I need to do is find a Mary Poppins. Where’s a woman descending from the sky with an umbrella when you need her?

On my last night in Grand Rapids, my parents host dinner—tacos, soft-shelled for me because I love them. The windows are open to air out the winter and let the April breeze in. It’s been unseasonably warm today and feels like a sign of good things to come.

Gwen takes a bite out of her hard-shelled taco, and the pieces fall all over the plate. Unbothered, she picks up the bits with her fingers and pops them into her mouth.

“A toast,” my father says, raising his glass. “To our superdriven daughter who’s landed herself a big promotion to England.”

I raise my glass, and I consider telling them that Mark, my boss, hinted at another promotion—maybe back here—if I can keep the UK project on budget and on time.

With good people working under me, that’s doable, so I’m hoping the team of people they’ve assembled can help me get there.

The fact that my career is still on track after opting to have Joey is a point of pride.

I wanted a child, and I wanted to excel at my job, and by some miracle, I’ve managed to do both.

“Where’s Macklin?” I ask Gwen, already having heard my parents murmuring about him canceling at the last minute.

“Called in for overtime,” she says with a shrug. “Sometimes he acts like he’s a doctor or something instead of a mall cop. Would anyone have actually died if he didn’t take the shift? It’s your last night!” She picks up her phone, and then my phone pings.

I glance down to see a message from her. “I’m not opening that.”

“I’ve been learning a lot about trip planning without a budget by looking at Kenyan safaris.” Gwen swipes a piece of shell through the leftover sour cream and salsa on her plate. “That itinerary I sent you is a great one.”

“I’m not sure about this bet…” My mother says, glancing between the two of us.

“Harmless,” my father says. “Paige’ll land on her feet in England. She always does.”

Not to mention that I’m resolved that Gwen won’t win.

It’s not just the exorbitant cost, but I’m also determined to prove I can be flexible.

Part of taking the UK job is to push myself professionally, but also personally.

To prove to myself that I can adapt to a new place and culture.

Growth, new challenges. There’s nothing I can’t accomplish when I set my mind to it. That’s always been my mentality.

When I return to Michigan a year from now, having kept the same nanny and with another promotion, they’ll marvel at how well I handled the transition. That’s the only outcome I’ll allow myself to see. Gwen is not getting her safari.