H ere I thought choosing the most average-looking girl presented by the nanny agency would keep me safe. Not that I’m apt to bed every hot woman I see—I mean, I used to be that way up until I met Miriam—but ever since my divorce began, the last thing I want is to be attracted to any woman .

Unfortunately, I made a grave miscalculation. Because the picture did not do this girl justice, not at all .

Miss Carrington is sexy as fuck .

She doesn’t even know it, which makes her sexier .

It’s those lips. Full, too naturally pouty, like some French socialite from the early 1900s. Her skin is pale and soft, her straw-colored hair pulled into a bun. Sure, she looked plain in the photo, but now I see her hair is full and thick. Keeping it in that style only makes me want to know what it’d look like loose over her shoulders. Over her naked tits .

No, damn it. NO .

“Great.” I begin walking around the twins’ play room, avoiding her pale green eyes. “Now that you’re onboard, let me elucidate. Here’s the situation, purely for informational purposes,” I say, in case she thinks I’m sharing personal information with her because I’m being nice. “I want this divorce over with. I want fifty-fifty custody of my kids. I want the court drama to end, so I can get back to work .”

Work is something I understand. Work is logical, beautiful, and makes sense to me .

Work is where I can be myself .

I chance a glance at her and see that she’s standing awkwardly, hands folded in front of her, not sure what to say. Behind her, Aunt Vivian peeks into the room, nods now that she sees the girl who disappeared from the foyer entrance, and leaves again .

“Don’t say anything.” I raise a finger to Miss Carrington. “Not yet .”

“Yes, sir,” she says then covers her mouth .

I shoot her a look. “I only tell you all of this so you’ll understand the next part. I’m in the middle of designing an ambitious, costly urban center. The pressures that come with this project are unheard of, so work requires my entire focus. Between the urban center, my divorce, raising two small children, and the bad publicity, it’s taking everything out of me .”

Suddenly, talking to this young woman about my life, anger I’ve worked hard to control the last few weeks flares up. I bite it back down. I’m sure she hears it in my voice. No wonder she looks terrified .

“Because my ex-wife is determined to rake me over the coals, I have to prove I’m a worthy father. I have to document everything my children do, in the event there’s any doubt I am a fit parent. Because of this, I’ll be installing several apps on your phone. These will tell me where you are when you’re with the children .”

“My phone?” She clings tighter to her purse .

“Yes. It’s not to violate your privacy. It’s so I can ensure the safety of my children. I don’t trust anyone, Miss Carrington, understand. Even now, I struggle with the thought that you might be someone my ex has sent to spy on me .”

Her eyes widen, and her face flushes. “Mr. Raider, I’m not a spy. I — ”

Her heaving breast makes my cock stiffen, but I ignore the strong physical attraction I’m feeling and continue onward as if it’s not happening .

“It’s outrageous, I know. But I have my reasons for being overprotective. Come, I’ll show you around .”

I lead her through the play room, showing the rest of my 8,000-square foot penthouse, excluding my bedroom. “You’ll have full access to the home. Every area requires passcodes, key codes, and in some cases fingerprints. My home is outfitted with the highest quality security system, and you will be allowed to take the children anywhere except my office and my bedroom .”

She holds up a finger for permission to speak. “When you come home from work, do I stay or go? That’s when you spend time with your kids ?”

I stare at her. Maybe it’s innocence, ignorance, or that she’s deaf, but I clearly said I had a huge project on my plate right now. “As I already mentioned, I’m in the middle of a project more complicated than putting a man on the moon. It requires all my time. Most of it. Yes, I’ll spend limited time with the children before and after work, but I’ll need you to sleep here on the days the kids are with me. You can go home when they are not in my care .”

“But do I stick around when you’re spending time with them?” Those lips when she talks. Her chest heaving up and down out of anxiety. Her body is tight, wide on the hips, thick in the waist, but it suits her. Her face looks like an unpainted doll’s. I find myself checking my phone again, to appear as though she has no hold on me .

“You’ll stick around,” I say, and somehow even this thought makes my cock stiffen all the more. “I’ll never know at what moment I might be called into a meeting, hence my office here,” I gesture to the room to our right. I scan my hand over the security sensor, the door opens, and I flick on the light, flick it off again. “Your room is here.” Down the hall, I press my hand against her bedroom panel, and the guest bedroom door opens. “I hope you’ll like it .”

“Wait, so you have access to my room?” She gawks .

“It’s my home, Miss Carrington, and you’re an employee here. Are there any objections ?”

“Well, no, but — ”

“Good. Follow me.” I don’t wait to hear her complaints. I’m sure she’s worried about me coming to her room and invading her privacy, but again, I won’t be engaging in any extra-curricular activities. Not with her. Not with anybody right now. I don’t want to be involved with another woman for a very long time .

I trusted Miriam, and look what happened. Perhaps it wasn’t love at first sight, but I believed we made a good team. Thought she fell for me, thought she could be a good mother and wife. Gave her everything. But my friends and even Aunt Vivian all had that nagging feeling that Miriam was only out for my bank account, and stupidly, I brushed aside their concerns .

Joke was on me when I realized the truth six months ago—she got pregnant soon after we married, because they were right. She was never in it for love. The plan was always to entrap me for eighteen years. And now she wants alimony, full custody of my children , and full child support. I don’t mind paying support, but I’ll die before I let her take full custody. She can tell the press whatever lies she wants. But I’m not asking for shared custody to avoid paying support, which is her allegation. I’m asking for shared custody because I love my kids .

After showing Miss Carrington around the penthouse, I bring her back to the living room where we began. “Anyway, that’s the tour. As you can see, I’ve done everything I can to provide a wonderful, nurturing environment for my twins. Do you have any questions or concerns ?”

Miss Carrington—Paisley, an interesting name, to be sure—looks like she wants to say something. She chews on her inner lip and makes a grimace while tugging nervously on the strap of her purse .

“Miss Carrington ?”

“I do have one question, Mr. Raider. I’ve listened to everything you’ve said, and I hope you won’t find this out of line, but your divorce …”

“What about it ?”

“You say you’re worried the court will find that you’re not an invested, capable father. Your house is certainly beautiful, super modern, and everything. But don’t you think the best way to provide a nurturing environment for the children is to just…I don’t know…” She shrugs and looks anywhere but at me .

“Spit it out, Miss Carrington .”

She looks back at me. “Spend time with your kids?” Her grimace twists into a smirk. Between that and my seething frown, she realizes maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say .

When I get upset, I don’t yell or scream. It doesn’t accomplish anything when I know that silence is far, far worse. My silence now makes Miss Carrington sink into her shoes. I know if she could blend into the walls right now, she would .

“Maybe you didn’t hear me earlier,” I say finally, sliding my phone into my pants pocket and sitting on the edge of the sofa’s backrest. I cross my ankles. “I’m working on the most important project of my life. Hence my need for a nanny .”

Where does this girl get off thinking she can stand here and accuse me of not spending enough time with my kids when she doesn’t understand anything about my life? She only knows what I’ve chosen to discuss. Besides, you’d think a nanny wouldn’t argue in favor of the parents spending more time with their kids .

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” she says .

“Oh? What other way could you mean it when you say I should just spend more time with my kids and that will solve everything?” I glare at her. There’s no reason to keep her if I feel she’s impertinent. I could call the agency right now and have them send over someone else. But the truth is, she’ll do just fine. She’s already here, she’s used to handling twins because of her brothers, and besides, she didn’t say it as cheekily as it sounded to my ego. I know I could spend more time with the kids, but I just can’t. I have a job to do .

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It was just a question, since you’re worried about the divorce case .”

I sigh. It really irks me when some wet behind the ears millennial talks as if life is so simple, merely because they are fresh out of college and full of themselves. They have yet to prove themselves, but their ignorance gives them the courage to utter the most ridiculous nonsense to those of us who actually have contended with the real world and know it’s complications and compromises .

“Miss Carrington, I run a multi-billion-dollar company. This means that hundreds of people’s salaries depend on me. This means that high profile clients get what they want, what they’ve always dreamed of in architectural design because of me. This means that I have to balance my life, and sometimes that means sacrificing family time in order to get the job done .”

“I understand.” She nods .

“So, perhaps you should allow me to conduct my life and business as I see fit, keep the uninformed judgments to yourself, and let me do the hard stuff while you care for my toddlers, making a lovely wage and luxuriating in the best amenities life has to offer at the same time. Clear ?”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” she squeaks. “Thank you so much for hiring me.” She even tries to save herself with a smile. Pretty, that upturn of her lips. I wonder where those lips have been, what they’ve done in her short life. She can’t be more than twenty-one, twenty-two if she’s just graduated from college ?

“You’re free to go home now. Be here tomorrow morning at 7 AM to prepare for the twins’ arrival at eight. Their mother will be dropping them off, and you will meet her then .”

“Yes, sir. Have a great rest of the day. Thank you for the opportunity .”

As she walks away, I can’t help but stare at her voluptuous, heart-shaped ass .

Fuck but what I would do to her under different circumstances. And then I think about the nerve she had, to tell me how to raise my kids …

Millennials and their entitlement, I swear. At her age, I never would’ve dreamed of challenging my boss during the interview stage. Maybe later, but not during the interview. But perhaps there’s hope for Paisley Carrington yet. After all, she’s got me for a boss, so she’s bound to learn a thing or two .

Once I settle into my office with afternoon coffee, Vivian comes in and hugs the door frame. “Well? How did it go ?”

“She’ll do .”

“I’m surprised you went with someone so average in the beauty department, Logan. Dare I say you’ve lost your playboy edge ?”

I almost correct her, suddenly feeling defensive on Paisley Carrington’s behalf. But then I realize there’s no good that can come from admitting my strong attraction to the new nanny .

“I lost my playboy edge a long time ago, Aunt Viv .”

“Well, it’s time to get it back, don’t you think? Miriam did a number on you. I swear, I liked you better when you were a happy bachelor .”

“Things change. People wake up.” People have kids. Wives leave then slap you with divorce papers. Having money has its pros and cons. Never being able to trust anyone again is definitely one of its cons .

“In any case, I liked Miss Carrington,” Vivian says. “The children will like her, too. I’ll leave now unless you need something from me ?”

“Check in with me later this week .”

“I will. Bye, love .”

Once she’s gone, I finally relax. A huge breath escapes my chest, as I sit at my office staring out the glass wall at the Freedom Tower. I think about the ten thousand ways I would’ve made that building more beautiful, not that it matters. What’s done is done, a lot like my life .

Don’t you think the best way to provide a nurturing environment for your kids is to actually spend time with them ?

Her words echo in my brain. They bother me, yes, because I know she’s right. Too bad I’m not that kind of father. Yes, I love my kids, but I’m not some hipster with enough time to strap a baby to his chest and go out for cupcakes in Chelsea Square. I have a company to run, a fortune to make. I never expected to be caring for the kids full-time by myself. I never expected Miriam to bail on the family and try to take me for all I’m worth .

But now, because of her choices, I have a full-time nanny .

Did I really think our marriage was the happy-ever-after kind ?

Maybe not in the Hollywood movie way, but I figured we’d build a nice life together, even if Miriam didn’t make me want to sing and dance and send telegrams of my love each day .

I was stupid, but now I know better. Now I know that my big mistake was thinking I could ever really count on anyone but myself .