Trouble from Abroad (Abroad #2)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

mia

“Mia, over here.” April’s voice cuts through the JFK arrivals gate. The place is packed, and my vertically challenged friend—Can I call us friends already?—waves her hand in the air.

I was expecting my ex-boss to pick me up today. You know, the person who invited me to the States. But seeing his girlfriend here instead is a nice surprise. I may not be sure which label fits us best yet, but I know I really like the girl.

April elbows a man in the ribs when he tries to cut in front of her, then shoots me a victorious grin. “Mia,” she shouts again, and I wave back until I’m sure she sees me.

“Hi, April.” I greet her with a wide and sincere smile, and she wraps me in a quick hug before bumping my hip with hers to shove me away from my luggage cart. The pile of cases sits almost as tall as her, and she still won’t accept my help. Oh yeah, Miss Stubborn is perfect for Liam Gunn.

“Hydrated? Jet-lagged?” she asks, eyes scanning me head to toe—doctor first, friend second.

“I am, Dr. Hadden. No need for triage.”

I’m rewarded with her beautiful smile, and she says, “Liam did tell me to feed you lots of sugar if you looked nervous or too tired.”

“He’s not wrong, but I’m fine, thank you.” I laugh along.

“Welcome to New York, Mia. And thanks again for coming all this way,” she says as we walk.

She steers the cart to a nice coffee shop near the airport’s sliding exit doors, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries hits me.

My stomach growls, and I head straight for the queue.

I look back to take April’s order and smirk as I watch her break a sweat, maneuvering the heavy cart next to the table she picked for us. “What can I get you?”

“A double espresso, please.” She wrestles with a rogue wheel, flashing me a tight smile. “But I’m buying. You’re my guest.”

“Only if Liam Gunn is paying.” I shoot her a cheeky grin.

“Oh.” Her face goes blank. “I don’t need him to.” She straightens, a tad too defensive. “Did you know the club, meaning him, still paid me even though I broke my contract, and I didn’t work a single day during my brief stay in London?”

Only April would be mad about receiving hundreds of thousands of pounds. I hold a smirk in. Well, she’s a surgeon, maybe she had that kind of money in the bank before meeting my ex-boss. Not something I could say for myself.

“Can’t say I was aware of the details,” I say, schooling my face back to neutral.

“Or that I’m surprised, to tell you the truth.

That’s very Liam of him.” A grin sneaks out.

“But you kept your end of the deal somehow.

We saw each other every other week when you went back to London to check on Max's recovery.” We had some fun on those bottomless brunches.

“You operated on Max, saved his bloody career. He had a twenty-four-seven physiotherapist with him; why have a surgeon too?”

“Thank you! Unfortunately, that’s not how billionaires think, just us reasonable people. Anyway, I’d never abandon a patient or quit on a deal I’ve been paid for. And unlike Preston, Max never needed a live-in nanny,” she adds.

April makes her way over and drops a sleek black card into my hand—eyes dodging mine, jaw set. “Want to spend his money? Here you go.”

Oh, no. I’m not having that behavior on my watch. “No-no-no-noooo. You stop that right now, missy.”

“Missy?” She chuckles.

Good. My wording has spurred her out of that unwarranted guilty moment. Her smile is back on now in all its megawatts.

“Well, I’m guessing it’s not missus yet. Gunn can’t tie his shoelaces without me, let alone plan a wedding. You guys didn’t elope, did you?” April doesn’t confirm or correct me, so I scan her left hand—no extra band. Panic attack canceled.

Am I really freaking out about the possibility of missing my boss’s wedding? Get a life, Mia.

“No, we didn’t elope.” Phew. “And don’t be silly. You wouldn’t be our wedding planner, Mia. You’d be our guest. Probably one of my bridesmaids.”

I nudge her shoulder with mine and pretend that didn’t just make my day. “Blimey, you don’t have many girlfriends either, do you?”

Would you look at that? She’s perfect for me too.

Linking my arm with hers, I drag April to the end of the queue and boss her around, a skill I clearly picked up from the best—her future husband.

“My point was, you’re a billionaire’s girlfriend.

Try acting like it. Oh!” I tug her hand closer and tap the humongous rock on the ring I helped Gunn pick out online.

“Excuse me. You’re a billionaire's fiancée.” I lower it from my line of sight, afraid the shine from all those diamonds might blind me.

“And very soon-to-be wife, because let’s face it, that guy has the patience of a newborn.

So, indulge yourself, lady. Life is too damn short not to. ”

When it’s our turn, I take up my own advice and order a double chocolate muffin the size of my head. They really do supersize things in this country, don’t they?

Diet starts tomorrow, I tell myself. I already blew it on macarons and tiramisu in first class anyway.

No point counting calories now. Of course Liam Gunn didn’t book me an economy ticket.

I’m not sure he even knows that part of an airplane exists.

My hips appreciated the extra space and the fact that no armrests had spent the flight trying to carve their initials into my flesh.

With my tray stocked with caffeine and a giant sweet treat, I carry on preaching.

“Liam loves you. Worships the ground you walk on. To the point of having you arrested at Heathrow Airport.” I snort at my retelling of how far he went so she couldn’t leave him behind.

It was crazy, disproportionate, and ohmygod, so romantic too.

The high arch in her eyebrows hints that she didn’t find it as amusing.

“April, he did all that because he couldn’t go a day, a single day, without you. For God’s sake, let the guy spoil you. Where is the asshole billionaire, by the way?”

“Hey, I call him that too!” We giggle; two long-time besties in the making, even though we’ve only known each other for a few months.

“Don’t try to claim the credit. I came up with that years before you came into the picture. And the difference is that you can use this term of endearment to his face and get away with it.” To be fair, I’ve called him that multiple times and made it out unscathed.

Over the years I worked as a PA for Liam Gunn, we developed a nice friendship during work hours. Well, I used to work for him. I came to the US at his request, but now, I’ll be working for April’s boss instead. As a nanny. Talk about a career shift.

“He sends his apologies. But a meeting came up. The owner of the hotel we’ve been living in is in town just for today and invited him for a business lunch.”

“Business? Isn’t this supposed to be his billionaire-in-love sabbatical?”

Her lips curve into a devious grin. “I dare you to say that to his face.”

I give it some thought and a shrug. “Meh. Ask me again when I’m bored.”

April lets out something between a laugh and a shriek, and that right there is one of the reasons I enjoy her company so much. She cracks up even when I’m not joking. The girl is too easy to please.

My sweetened life elixir is filled to the brim with my unique blend of four different syrups, bordering on a diabetic coma.

Two sips in, the caffeine—and most likely the sugar—hits my system, and I’m ready to tackle this new time zone.

I’m all amped up, off to grill April for gossip instead of intel about my new job. But she jumps in first.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this arrangement?”

“With being the world’s most overpaid nanny for a few months in a city I’ve always dreamed of visiting?” I scoff. “Yeah, I think I’ll survive.” I stare at the sliding doors, but there’s no view to admire beyond the glass. “So, tell me more about this hotshot surgeon I’ll be working for.”

April sputters, spraying coffee all over the table, then stares at me, cosplaying as a statue. After she gives me nothing, I ask, “What? Isn’t he?”

“He was.” She dabs her lips with a napkin and shakes her head. “I mean, he is, he is.” Her head tilts to the side when she asks me, “Didn’t Liam tell you why Dr. Preston needed help?”

“Come on, April.” I’m trying to be respectful, so I hold in a laugh. “Liam is not known for being chatty. This is what he told me,” I say, listing it out on my fingers: 'April's boss, nice enough guy, rough divorce,’ ‘do you like kids?’ and, ‘come on, I’ll give you a raise.’”

“Fine, I shouldn’t expect much more from him—you’ve got a point.

” She leans back in her chair, a bit defeated.

“I really hope this doesn’t make you head straight to the departure gate…

The thing is, Preston needs a lot of help.

He needs more than a nanny for Lily. He needs someone to put his life back in order.

That’s why I thought you’d be great for this. ”

Her eyes cast down as if this is painful for her too.

“His wife—his college sweetheart—” Her tone changes to pass through her gritted teeth.

“—left him weeks before she was due to give birth. The baby wasn’t his.

Or so she said in the note she left before disappearing, also abandoning their six-year-old daughter. ”

She aligns the sugar, salt, stirrers—click, click, clickety, click—and then slaps her palm flat on the table, sending them all tumbling. “That bitch! I could kill her!”

I don’t think she meant to shout that. Unless she wants to visit this airport jail too.

A policeman passing by stares at us, and I plaster on a smile, mouthing, “It’s okay, we’re good” to him.

Seriously, she’s the American. Doesn’t she know a thing or two about airport etiquette? Is she going to shout ‘bomb’ next?