Chapter 5
Roger
“I don’t know why I needed to get out of bed so early,” I grumbled, glaring across at Rita from across a steaming cup of coffee. “Is this why I pay you so much? For you to drag me out of bed at 7:30 in the morning?”
“You’re the one who needed a new nanny by nine,” she shot back. “And you should at least interview them. They’re going to be watching your daughter, for goodness sake!”
“Yeah, yeah,” I grunted. I couldn’t argue with that, though my hangover would have liked to. “So tell me again why we couldn’t have had this at my house? Why did we need to go all the way to the billing office?”
Rita smiled. “First off, I knew that if we had it at your house, you’d still be in your pajamas, and I wanted you to make a good first impression. That’s important, don’t you think?”
I glared at her, but nodded. She was having way too much fun teasing my early-morning fuzziness. I was an evening man, for Christ’s sake. Nothing interesting happened in the morning!
“Secondly,” she continued, “I didn’t think it wise to give perfect strangers knowledge about your house. You have picture frames in there that could settle some of these girls’ mortgages. You have to be sensible.”
I sighed. I was sensible! Or at least, I had been. Before Victoria’s death, I had been hard as a rock. Since then, though, I had to admit I’d been walking around in a sort of haze. It occurred to me that, if not for Rita, my hotels probably would have gone under.
“Thank you, Rita,” I said sincerely. “I really appreciate all this. And so last minute, too.”
If she was surprised at my gratitude, she didn’t show it. She just stood right up and said, “I’ll send the first one in. And get you a refill on that coffee, too.”
I raised my mug towards her and she left. A moment later, a middle-aged woman entered. She had on a purple pantsuit, a large and ugly pin, and looked like somebody’s bank teller. I did my best to seem cheerful and hitched a smile on my face.
“Welcome!” I started. “So, tell me about yourself.”
And so it began.
Pantsuit lady turned out to be no good because she was a wishy-washy, overly-eager sort of type whom I knew Maggie would bamboozle in about ten seconds. The next candidate, a young, no-nonsense Hispanic woman, was no good because she’d informed me point blank that she’d have to leave Maggie three times a day for yoga practice. The third one who came was so hungover from the night before that I could practically smell the tequila on her. I sent her out with a glare.
“That’s the best you got?” I called to Rita as she sat working at her desk. “I think she was still drunk!”
“Oh, please forgive me,” she snapped back. “I forgot there’s only room for one drunken idiot in this company!” I scowled, but didn’t offer a retort. I probably smelt of scotch as strongly as that woman stank of margaritas.
Eight fifteen rolled around, followed by eight thirty. I was beginning to despair of finding somebody before nine, when Maggie would have to get up and start preparing for school. I stood, about to go to Rita and tell that we ought to give up for the day. I’d actually do this right and find a nanny through an agency.
And that’s when she walked in.
My first thought was: My god!
My second thought was: She’s way too young to be a nanny!
And then: I noticed, that while her skin and eyes were bright with youth and exuberance, those hips and tits were that of a woman. There was also they was she carried herself: graceful and shy, like a fawn, and yet as confidant as a deer with a magnificent rack of antlers.
Which lead me to my final thought: That is a magnificent rack.
“Hello, Mr.…Clifton?” She said, striding towards me with her hand outstretched. “I’m Danielle, and I’m here to interview for the nannying position?”
“Of course, of course,” I replied, immediately donning the cool, debonair sophistication of a man well used to working with large sums of money and beautiful woman. “Sit down, my dear, and tell me about yourself.”
She obeyed, and I noticed that she did so athletically and comfortably, as if she was not ashamed of her body and how it moved. Not at all like most New York women, who did everything they could to appear three sizes smaller than they really were. Already, I could feel myself taking a liking to her.
“Well, sir,” she said, “I just moved her from Vermont, where I had plenty of experience nannying…”
At this point, I stopped listening. I was too caught up in the idea of her on sunlit Vermont slopes. First, in the summer, in a little string bikini, basking beside a mountain pool. Then, during the winter, rocketing down the ski slopes, unafraid of her speed, her muscular legs tensed as she took every turn with ease…
“Do you like to ski?” I interrupted her mid-sentence. She paused and blinked before regathering her stride.
“Yes, sir. Every winter my brothers and I would hit the slopes. It’s something I bet I’m going to miss, now that I’m in New York.”
“I see,” I said, genuinely curious. “And what made you decide to move here?”
“Well…” She blushed, as if she was unsure how to answer. “This is probably not a good thing to say at a job interview, but I have a dream of one day working in hospitality, and, well, New York is the place to be for that.”
I smiled. This girl…Danielle, well, she certainly wasn’t a business lady. A normal person would have lied, and said something to the effect of, “I moved here to your nanny!” But not her. She was honest. I realized that that was exactly the sort of quality I wanted Maggie to have.
“You’re hired,” I declared, right out of the blue.
“What?” She gasped. “Really?”
“Yes,” I said. Her genuine astonishment endeared her to me even more. “You start immediately. And your pay will be…”
I ran off a string of numbers that made her jaw practically drop down to my desk. I smiled. This was one of the best things about being rich. Being able to pay people amounts that made their head spin.
“Why, thank you, sir! Thank you!” She exclaimed. It made me happy to see how happy I’d made her. I realized that it had been a long time since I’d talked to somebody her age: so young and full of life. I could imagine her happiness bubbling off of her like a freshly poured soda.
“I’ll call my driver. Wait outside until he arrives.”
“Your driver? Wow…Okay, thank you, sir!”
And with that, she leapt to her feet and dashed from the office.
A moment later, Rita appeared. “I had a feeling you’d like that one,” she said.
I glared at her, offended. “Why? Look, the woman is highly qualified. Just because she’s beautiful…”
“Hey, that’s not what I meant,” laughed Rita. “I just had a feeling. Like you could use some cheering up. And she just seems a bucketful of cheer.”
A bucketful of cheer. Not wasn’t quite right. Buckets were big and sloppy. But a champagne glass…those were elegant. Stately. But also fun. And one can drink champagne anywhere.
“A champagne glass full of cheer…” I muttered under my breath.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’ll have her send her info to you ASAP. Now, we’re off to the final test – let’s have her meet Maggie!”