Chapter 6
Danielle
I was a little confused as I waited outside. He said he was getting his driver, so, what was I supposed to be looking for? Was I supposed to hail a cab for the both of us? Remember, I’d only been in a cab once. I wasn’t sure what the etiquette was for sharing a cab with a relative stranger – especially a stranger as handsome as Mr. Clifton.
“Whoa,” I whistled under my breath when I was finally alone. Throughout the whole interview I’d been fighting the urge to blush and giggle, that’s how sexy this guy looked. Like a cross between Hugh Grant and Russell Crowe. The kind of appearance that would look at home at the British parliament, wearing a tailored suit, or in blue jeans, wrestling bulls. Gentle but tough. Experienced but curious. Usually, I would not go for a man so much older than me, but he had that kind of face that looks just as great at twenty, forty, or sixty.
And, judging by how much he was offering to pay me, he had a bit of money too.
How naïve I was.
About five minutes later, Mr. Clifton emerged from the office building, alongside Rita, the woman who’d spoken to me the night before. She flashed me a smile and I gave her a little wave as she got into her car – a very nice, bright red Lexus. Then, she drove away, leaving me alone with Mr. Clifton.
Suddenly, I noticed my hands begin to sweat.
“Ah, he’s here,” Mr. Clifton said at last, and I watched, amazed, as a limousine, gleaming like obsidian in the early morning sun, pulled right up to the pair of us. The driver leapt out, hopped over to the door, and opened it, gesturing Mr. Clifton and I in with a sweep of his hand.
“After you, Danielle?” he asked, sounding utterly charming.
“Thank you, Mr. Clifton!”
He chuckled. “Please, call me Roger.”
And then the door to the limo clapped shut, leaving me alone in the semi-darkness with Roger.
Just then, as small blue lights sprang up around our feet, and I caught glimpse of a fully stocked limousine bar, complete with a mini-fridge and small television, I realized two things:
First, Roger must have a lot more money than I initially thought.
Second, I had just gotten into a very enclosed, very dimly-lit car with a perfect stranger – one who, judging by the sleek muscles visible through his jacket, could take me in an instant.
I wasn’t in Vermont anymore. I couldn’t afford to make dangerous mistakes. I braced myself, clenching against my cool leather seat, in case “Roger” decided to attack.
It turns out, he was a perfect gentleman.
The whole ride over, we chatted amiably about everything from New York traffic to what I missed most about Vermont. I felt extremely silly talking about such things – for why on earth would a man like him be interested? I figured he was just feigning interest to be polite. Either way, he listened to me with rapt attention, smiling and laughing at all the right points.
Then, we pulled up to a hotel.
“Oh, no sir,” I began to spurt nervously. “I really think you have gotten the wrong idea. See, I was told that this was for a nanny position, not…”
I noticed the sign, and the words died in my throat. Clifton Hotel, it read, in huge gold letters. I had seen the name the night before, but it had never even occurred to me that this man might be that Mr. Clifton.
Which left me feeling sillier and more awkward than ever.
Roger noticed this and chuckled, offering me his own hand instead of his driver. “Didn’t know you’d be meeting a celebrity, huh?” He joked. “I’m glad, actually. It means you didn’t apply to this job just to rob me blind!”
“Uh-huh,” I murmured in agreement. What else could I say? I was standing next to Roger freaking Clifton, for Pete’s sake!
“This way,” Roger instructed, leading me through the dazzling front entrance of his hotel. I was so glad Veronica and I had gone here the night before, otherwise I would have been completely floored. To my surprise, he did not lead me to the main elevators, but down a small but ornately decorated hallway behind the manager’s desk.
“This is a private elevator.” he explained. “When you arrive for work, you can get a manager to let you up.”
I thanked him, and tried not to watch too closely as he dialed a number into the pin-pad on the wall. The elevator doors slid elegantly open, and before I knew it we were inside.
“You live where you work?” I stammered, trying to be witty. “Talk about a short commute!”
He smiled and said, “One of the many things that makes me lucky. The best one you’re about to meet: my daughter, Maggie.”
The elevator slid to a halt. It opened, revealing a view of a large door with an ornate brass lock. In silence, and with a grin on his face, Roger opened the door.
I gasped. The penthouse inside was incredible. Huge, continuous windows lined the far war of the living room, giving me a million dollar view of the New York skyline. Comfortable but expensive furniture stood on oriental rugs, making the place look like it had survived in a time capsule for a hundred years, that’s how fancy and ornate everything was. Then, there was the size. As we strode inside, I could see already a living room, a billiards room, a kitchen, a dining room, and a library – all branching off from the site of the front door. Each, by all appearances, had a fully-stocked, working fireplace, and enough decorations to please a museum.
“Wow,” I muttered under my breath. I wandered further in like a woman under a spell.
“Dad?” A soft voice interrupted, making me jump. I whirled, and saw a young girl, balled up in silk pajamas probably worth a grand, emerging from one of the darker hallways to greet her father and me.
“Maggie!” Exclaimed Roger, scooping her up and whirling her through the air. I could tell by the surprised look in her eyes that this was not Roger’s usual behavior – but it was also a behavior she was not opposed to.
“Is this her?” She asked, her glance slicing right towards me. By the appraisal in her gaze, I could tell immediately that this girl was smart, and not one to be taken lightly.
“It is,” I answered for him, striding forward to shake her hand, just as if she were an adult. “I’m Danielle, and I’m here to help out around here. Homework. Chores. Whatever you need.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You mean you’re my nanny?”
I shrugged. “I figured a girl like you seemed a little old for a ‘nanny’ – but yes, if you want to call me that. I am your nanny.”
Maggie’s eyes narrowed. I could tell that I’d surprised her. She was realizing that she was going to have to watch what she said around me. That was good.
“Okay, Maggie,” interrupted Roger. “Why don’t you go get ready for school? I’ll give Danielle the tour, so she’s ready when you are. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” she said. She was eyeing her father mysteriously. He, for his part, kept glancing from Maggie to me, a huge grin on his face. Suddenly, I felt like I’d become the punchline to somebody’s joke without even realizing it.
It was an uncomfortable feeling.
Maggie went back to her room to change, while her father beckoned me to sit down on the living room couch. Then, he went to the kitchen.
“To celebrate,” he said, raising a bottle of champagne and two empty glasses. “I know it’s morning, but hey! This could be the start of many fine mornings for the pair of us.”
I blushed, and accepted his offer. Normally, I would not have drank so early in the day, but I had studied enough about champagne to know that this was a very good bottle. Turning it down would be like locking yourself in a dark room on a bright and sunny day.
I sipped. It was delicious, but I forced myself to remember that I was at work. “So, Roger, tell me about your daughter. I can tell right off the bat that she is very sharp.”
Roger sighed, sipping deeply from his glass. “She is, she is. And I wouldn’t be looking for a nanny at all, except that her grades suddenly went haywire…”
I listened to him explain how, even after her mother’s death – A widower! I had thought guiltily – Maggie had continued to do very well, until, just – BOOM! I listened carefully, and wondered, What is this girl up to?
She emerged a few minutes later, looking very smart in a preppy school uniform. She informed us that she was going to school, gave me a scrutinizing look, and left.
Roger handed me a laptop. “All her curriculum information is right there. I want you to spend today getting acquainted with what she’s learning, so you can better help her with her homework. Help yourself to anything in the fridge, and feel free to order out. All the local restaurants have my tab.”
I blinked at him, feeling suddenly nervous. “You want me to stay here all day and…study? Are these paid hours, sir?”
I felt shitty even asking, but I had to know.
“Of course!” He exclaimed. “Every moment you’re here is paid! I will spare no expenses for my daughter!”
“Damn right,” I muttered under my breath. This guy was so unreal, half the time he seemed too good to be true, and the other half he seemed crazy. I took a moment to wonder what he’d been like as a husband. Had he been this eager to please?
Smiling to himself, Roger took our empty glasses and brought them to the sink. I was surprised to see that he didn’t have a butler – but, I realized, some men like their privacy. I took another moment to wonder what he was like as a bachelor.
“Okay, Danielle. I’m off. I have hotels to run. If you need anything, here is my cell phone number. Don’t hesitate to call.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied timidly. Here is was, this handsome billionaire, giving me his number. Even though it was for business reasons, I still felt overwhelmed.
He bid me a jaunty farewell, donned a traveling cloak, and left, leaving me all alone in this huge, expensive apartment.
“Holy shit!” I exclaimed, leaping into the air with joy. How lucky could I be? One night I’d been in New York and already I’d landed a greatly paid job for Roger fucking Clifton.
Still, I could not help but feel a twinge of sadness. My dream was to work in hospitality. And working for Roger, in his hotel, not as his nanny would have been amazing. Not only amazing, but perfect. Incredible. An answer to my dreams.
“Still, Danielle,” I told myself. “You have to start somewhere.”
Therefore, I sat down with the laptop, and began to work.