The Billionaire's Super Nanny (A BWWM Romance) Page 3

  His hand squeezed mine, and I realized I was gripping his leg with my nails. I forced myself to release him, setting my hand on my own leg and silently praying not to die.

  “You’re doing great, Zeya.”

  His voice was loud and clear over the headset.

  “Thanks. Just watch the road, I mean the sky, if you would.”

  He looked at me and smiled.

  “Relax. Enjoy the scenery. You’ll never see New York like this.”

  I took a deep breath, mustering up my courage. I looked straight out into the distance, trying not to look directly down, though I could. Before I got into the chopper I hadn’t realized that the floor didn’t extend all the way out to the edges. The last six inches or so, where the glass first curved, was also open. I could look almost directly beneath us. Even though the entire cabin was contained, I felt a bit like I was hurtling through air unbound.

  I focused on my breathing and the skyline. It really was beautiful, if I didn’t remember how high we hovered above the city. My stomach started to loosen, the knots untying themselves as the tension eased out of my body. Maybe I wasn’t going to die.

  I saw the giant “H” on the building a split second before Taylor pointed it out.

  “We’re almost there. I told you we’d be fast.”

  He patted my hand in an unconsciously friendly gesture, then started flipping switches and making adjustments before he aimed the chopper toward the landing pad.

  He set it down so easy that I almost didn’t feel it. He really was a good pilot. I went to unbuckle my seatbelt, but he stopped me.

  “Never get out until the rotor has stopped, especially on a bird this little.”

  I nodded again, not trusting myself to speak. We sat in silence while he powered it down, and I waited for him to get out and come around to my door before I undid my belt.

  I followed him through a locked door on the roof and down several flights of stairs to the street.

  From the street, I couldn’t see the chopper at all. I hailed a cab and pointed him in the direction of my apartment, thankful that I’d remembered to bring my keys.

  “Did you like it?”

  “I didn’t hate it.”

  “That’s a start.”

  My tone was brisk. I was uncomfortable being so close to him in the back of that cab. Maybe we should have walked. It was several blocks to my apartment, and while I often took the long walk home instead of the bus, there was no way I was going to lug my things back to the studio. And it would take too long. As much as I hated wasting money on a cab when I could walk, I wanted to get packed up and back in the chopper as soon as possible. The sooner we got back to the radio station, the sooner I could be back on solid land.

  Relief washed over me when I saw the gate to my building. Taylor sat quietly beside me, his mere presence filling the small space. I kept thinking about how he and Nichelle had interacted with each other. It was nice to see them being cordial for the children’s sake, but there didn’t seem to be a connection between them at all. How odd. Even ex-lovers had an air about them that suggested intimate knowledge of the other person.

  I imagined that Taylor Stephens was a hard man to love, and I couldn’t really blame Nichelle for wanting out if that wasn’t the life she wanted to lead. I didn’t see anything that made me suspicious of Taylor, but you never knew how people were behind closed doors.

  I was about to find out.

  “Can you wait for us?” I asked the cabby as I got out.

  “I can, but I have things I’d rather be doing” he said, giving me a look that I knew all too well.

  Why did I always luck out and get the jerks?

  “Here you go,” Taylor said, tossing a hundred dollar bill on the from passenger seat. “There’s a tip in it for you if your attitude improves substantially when we return.”

  The man saluted and I rolled my eyes. Good luck with that.

  I let myself into my apartment, and Taylor followed. He hovered in the doorway for a moment, looking a little uncomfortable.

  “Come in. It’s not a mansion, but I love it.”

  I didn’t wait to see if he did. I grabbed my carryon luggage out of the hall closet and went to work in my closet, yanking clothes out and shoving them into the bag. I took a week’s worth; I could come by after work next week and get anything else I needed for a longer stay. For now I wanted to hurry up and get Taylor Stephens out of my house.

  He appeared in my bedroom doorway.

  “Do you have a baby?”

  “No,” I said, mentally kicking myself for letting him into the apartment. I didn’t want to explain my situation, but I knew there was no way around it.

  “Oh,” he said, his face somber.

  “Oh no. I didn’t lose a baby. I’m trying to adopt, and the state insists that I have to be ready for a child anywhere from birth to teen years.”

  He perked up a bit at that.

  “How is that going?”

  “Not well. They won’t let me adopt a child out of the foster system.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s complicated, and the wound is still fresh. If it’s okay with you, I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  “I understand. I’m sorry. I just saw the nursery and wondered, since you don’t have any family pictures up.”

  “Well, I don’t have any family, so that’s probably why.”

  I rolled my bag and passed him as I went into the hallway. He followed me silently out the door, and I locked it behind me. The silence was heavy between us, but I wasn’t going to elaborate. Taylor Stephens was a client, not a friend. I wasn’t about to share such a personal story with someone I’d just met.

  Taylor grabbed the bag’s handle out of my hand, and I didn’t protest. It had wheels, but that wouldn’t help with getting it down the stairs. He was bigger and stronger than me. If he wanted to show off his alpha maleness by carrying my bag, let him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “I shouldn’t have been prying. Your private life isn’t any of my business. It’s just that… you don’t get where I am in life without being able to read people.”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say, but an apology was the last thing I expected.

  “It doesn’t excuse my behavior,” he went on. “I just don’t know who you are, I mean besides that you’re amazing with children. I guess I just wanted to peek into your life a bit and get to know the you that you don’t put out there.”

  He loaded my things into the trunk and opened the door for me. The cabby greeted us, the friendly gesture obviously awkward for a man who was used to be surly.

  “Thank you for apologizing. It’s not you. The adoption process is so frustrating. With so many hoops to jump through, it’s no wonder that so many kids stay in the system until they turn eighteen. I just wish the state could see that. There are worse things than a single black female trying to adopt a child who needs love and a family to call their own.”

  I was talking fast, trying to get the topic out of the way as quickly as possible so I didn’t have to think about it again. It wasn’t fair, and it pissed me off. I’d poured my life into this the last two years, with the state stringing me along the entire time. I’d been single the entire time I was going through the process. Why did it suddenly matter now? It was ridiculous, and it made me angry.

  Taylor reached out and grabbed my hand, forcing me to look at him.

  “It’s not your fault. They’re wrong about you. It’s their loss. They’re stupid for passing up someone who is obviously so perfect for a kid who needs love and guidance.”

  My lip was trembling as I fought back tears. I couldn’t do this right now. Taylor wasn’t my friend, and my problems were none of his concern. So why couldn’t I stop myself?

  “It’s not the state that loses out,” I said. “It’s the kid on the street that doesn’t have to be. I’m one of the lucky ones, but kids shouldn’t have to b
e lucky to survive.”

  Taylor leaned closer and for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. When he pulled me into his arms instead and hugged me tight, I almost lost it. I held back the tears and shoved myself back until my back pressed against the door. He didn’t move back, but he didn’t get any closer either.

  The cab stopped in front of the radio station and I breathed a sigh of relief when I got out of the car. Having the car between us made it so much easier to be assertive.

  “Look. I appreciate the gesture, but you’re going through a divorce and I’m here to do a job. I like a hands-off relationship with people I work for.”

  Taylor nodded tersely, walking past me and heading for the building. His shoulders were set and his movements stiff.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out that I’d upset him, but it didn’t matter. Boundaries were important, and I needed all the help I could get.

  Taylor Stephens was much too handsome for me to let him get too close.

  Chapter 4

  Zeya

  I sat across the table from Tanner and Tara and beside Nichelle. Taylor sat at the head of the table, eyes hard as he tried for the umpteenth time to get Tanner to eat. Brown eyes that matched his sister’s were sad as he tried without success to get out of eating the food before him.

  “Son, you have to finish what’s on your plate, or there’s no dessert.”

  “But I want chocolate,” Tanner whined, running his tiny hands through his dark blond hair in almost exactly the same way his father had just moments before in frustration.

  “It doesn’t matter what you want, you have to earn it. If you don’t want to eat, you can head up to bed.”

  I took notes in my head, not wanting to distract them from their normal behaviors. If the kids were better behaved than normal, then I wouldn’t have accurate information to draw off of later.

  The meltdown continued while Tara quietly pushed food around her plate. I watched her out of the corner of my eye, noting that she slid food off her plate and tossed it under her brother beneath the table when Taylor wasn’t looking. No doubt Tanner had been blamed for the horrendous mess more than once.

  As if on cue, Taylor praised Tara for eating her vegetables.

  “See, Tanner? Tara is eating her vegetables. Why can’t you be like your sister?”

  I cringed. A question that went back centuries, it nevertheless killed me every time I heard it. No wonder Tanner was lashing out. He was being compared to an older child acting just as naughty as he was.

  I didn’t say a word, though it pained me not to. The observation portion of my job was one of the most important. I would get to the corrections soon enough. For now, I had to bite my tongue no matter what.

  I wasn’t surprised when Tanner ended up on the floor, kicking and screaming the way only a three-year-old could do. Taylor turned red in the face, jumping up and pulling the child off the floor and setting him on his feet. Tanner promptly melted into a puddle as if he had no bones. I could see that Taylor was frustrated.

  “Tanner. That’s enough. Stop acting like a baby.”

  Tanner wailed even louder and Tara jumped out of her seat, sticking out her tongue at Tanner and dancing around him. Her voice was high and sing-song as she danced around.

  “Tanner is a baby. Tanner is a baby.”

  The song went on and on, with Tanner’s wails getting louder as Tara teased him. To his credit, Taylor didn’t scream at either child and didn’t attempt to set Tanner on his feet again. He looked to me, his expression desperate.

  “Just do what you normally do and pretend I’m not here.”

  “You’re not going to help?”

  “I am helping. I have to see what isn’t working before I decide what will work.”

  He wore an incredulous expression, but he wasn’t the first parent to assume that I would swoop in and fix everything before finding out where they’d gone wrong. The only difference was that those parents didn’t have to share their failures with me in real time in person. I’m sure this was much harder.

  “Normally I leave him there and turn off the lights,” Taylor said.

  “And what does that do?”

  “Nothing. He just throws a tantrum until there’s food all over the floor, and I send him to bed.”

  “I’m going to guess that you don’t like sending him to bed upset.”

  “Of course I don’t.”

  “Well, hopefully tonight will be the last time.”

  Taylor threw his hands in the air and left the room, leaving Nichelle to gather the children while he cooled off.

  Nichelle calmly ate the rest of her dinner without looking at either child. When she was through, she cleared her place and the children’s plates and left the room.

  Tara continued dancing around and teasing Tanner, but I could tell that she was running out of steam.

  I didn’t have high hopes for tomorrow. At least I could step in later in the day. This family needed lots of help. As much as I hadn’t wanted this assignment, it was apparent that I was needed.

  ***

  The next morning was much of the same, with the kids running circles around the adults and Tanner getting blamed for things he did, as well as some things that Tara did. The kids ran the house, screeching loudly when they didn’t get their way and going on with their day without a care in the world.

  Taylor had several full-time employees that took care of various things in his home. I watched as more than one of them snuck candy to the children in an effort to get them out of a room being cleaned or away from a hot stove. It seemed that Mom and Dad weren’t the only ones contributing to the problem.

  I took notes throughout the day, but I had my answers before lunch. These children were being spoiled by the people around them, and it was ruining them.

  Taylor came home for the day just after lunch, and the children’s misbehavior intensified. Their dad wasn’t even home ten minutes when Tara broke something, running out of the room and out of sight before anyone could rush in and see who had caused the ruckus. I wasn’t surprised when Taylor immediately assumed that Tanner was the culprit. It wasn’t abnormal for the more boisterous child to be blamed for everything, especially when children like Tara were so good at hiding their involvement. Taylor was gathering himself up and ready to explode when I held up my hand.

  “Ask someone to watch them. I have what I need, and the three of us need to talk.”

  Taylor nodded, lips pursed together with effort. A maid scurried out of an adjacent room and hurriedly cleaned up the mess.

  I met Nichelle and Taylor in the sitting room, ready to lay it all out for them. Nichelle and Taylor sat in different seats across from me.

  I looked over my notes for a moment before I began.

  “There’s a lot going on here, but the good news is, it’s easily fixed.”

  Taylor let out the biggest sigh, relief evident on his face.

  “Don’t celebrate yet. There’s a lot that needs to change, and we’re going to start with you two.”

  Nichelle looked perplexed but didn’t say a word. I wondered if she understood me, but I had a feeling she did. I slowed down a bit and made sure to enunciate my words.

  “It’s amazing that you two are able to set aside your hurt feelings during a divorce and co-parent while the kids adjust, but the problem—”

  Taylor cut me off, something that irritated me to no end.

  “Nichelle isn’t their mother.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “My wife and I conceived children through a donor egg and a surrogate. My wife, ex-wife, didn’t want to carry children, so we compromised.”

  “Even then, she should still love her children and not just walk away. Love makes a family,” I pointed out. “Who carried the children and gave birth to them is irrelevant.”

  “I’m not surprised you feel that way,” he replied, his smile gentle, “but Nichelle is the surrogate, not my ex. My divorce is final, and my ex-wife is l
ong gone. I haven’t seen her since court two months ago.”

  It suddenly made sense.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before? I couldn’t have possibly guessed Nichelle was a surrogate. Family dynamics are important, and I wasted an entire day thinking she was their mother and about to leave them.”

  I was upset. This was important information that I should have been told.

  “You didn’t ask.”

  “Of course I didn’t. You live together. You take care of children together. It makes sense for me to assume she was your soon to be ex-wife. I was impressed at you two putting your feelings aside to make the transition smooth. For the kids.”

  Taylor laughed, the sound a little strangled though I could tell he was enjoying himself.

  “My ex never does anything to benefit someone else. If there’s nothing in it for her, she doesn’t waste the energy.”

  “They were calling her ‘tante’. I thought that meant mother,” I continued.

  Nichelle sat up straighter, suddenly making sense of everything we were saying. She shook her head vehemently.

  “‘Tante’ means aunt. They call me aunt because I see them and they think I’m Taylor’s sister.”

  Nichelle struggled a bit with the words, but she got her point across. Of course the kids didn’t know they were born from a surrogate. And it made sense that someone as rich and powerful as Taylor would want to use the same surrogate for both children.

  I leveled a hard stare at Taylor.

  “We’ve wasted a lot of time with this. Even if I didn’t ask, you should have told me. How was I supposed to know who Nichelle was and how she fit into the family?”

  “I don’t know. Isn’t that your job?”

  Taylor’s voice was cold and I could tell he was mad, but it didn’t matter. He needed to understand how this worked or we were both wasting our time.

  “Is there anything else I should know?” I asked, ignoring his question and his tone.

  He might be the hot-shot billionaire, but we were on my turf and he was in way over his head with these kids.

  “I don’t think so. Do you need to know about my ex?”