T hat was, by far, the weirdest interview I’ve ever had in my life .

Mr. Raider was meaner than I ever expected him to be, and yet I can’t stop thinking about him. Why, though? Because he pissed me off or because he’s so damn gorgeous? That chiseled jaw, those brooding light eyes. Damn. My feminist sensibilities tell me that I shouldn’t be attracted to a man like that. My mother and grandmother and every strong woman before me didn’t fight years of oppression and inequality just for me to let a man talk to me that way .

It was for the money, I remind myself .

Yes. I’ll only put up with it because I need the money. Secretly, I’ll be rolling my eyes at him .

When I get back to Brooklyn and my apartment, finding Caitlyn in the kitchen just waking up and having coffee, she can’t contain herself. You’d think she was the one who got the job. “Oh, my God!” she practically screams. “So? How was he ?”

“Tall.”

“You have to tell me all about him before I leave for work. I have to get going in a few minutes .”

“There’s nothing to say. I start tomorrow at seven in the morning.” I throw my purse on our beaten-up sofa. Now that I’ve seen how the other half lives, our place looks so dingy and cheap .

“Then, let’s go out later. Michelle and Mackie are free, and I get off work at five. Drinks at Chelle’s ? You can tell me all about him then ?”

“Sure, except I won’t drink, since I have to get up early .”

“One drink’s not going to kill you, lovely. Besides, I know if I don’t put at least two drinks in you, you won’t open up and tell me what I want to know. And I have to know the truth about Logan Raider !”

“He’s rude and controlling. There .”

She pushes her tongue into her cheek. “He’s going through a divorce, you know .”

“For good reason. I hope his ex-wife wins the case.” I smirk to myself and hope I’m never in the position of finding out my husband’s really an ass and having to leave him. Poor woman .

She gives me side eye. “I don’t know how you can stand there and be so calm. Do you know how many girls at the agency wanted that job ?”

“As many as are blinded by money and good looks ?”

“You’re so lucky !”

“You’re right. I need to be more grateful.” It’s meant as sarcasm, but Caitlyn agrees, as she refills her coffee mug and I plow into my room to throw myself in bed. It’s only noon, but I feel like I’ve already had a full day .

“I would’ve fucked him during the interview,” she calls out .

“And I’m sure he would’ve been happy to oblige .”

Truth is, I do need to be more grateful. I now have a job, and my boss is paying me way more than the other girls. All I have to do in exchange is deal with his bullshit and be “monitored at all hours of the day,” whatever that even means .

As long as it’s not on my personal time, I guess that’s fine with me .

* * *

H appy Hour at Chelle’s is a New York City meat market. Honestly, I don’t know why Caitlyn even likes coming here. Wait, I do know. Because here she gets every kind of hoot-and-holler male attention she can dream of. They’re all watching her, as we talk about my day. Her over her second glass of wine, and me over Diet Coke with lemon. That’s right, I’m a wild woman .

I’m used to her getting male attention, and normally, it makes me jealous. But tonight, I really don’t care about the multitudes of men—hot and not—gawking at her beauty. Because I can’t stop thinking about Logan Raider. I was in Logan Raider’s penthouse. His penthouse! I got a job taking care of his kids, and now I’ll be entering the lair of a man that women everywhere only dream of having .

“I really would fuck him if I had the chance,” Caitlyn slurs, finishing her wine and asking the bartender for a third. “I don’t care if he’s a jerk. It wouldn’t be for his personality, you know ?”

“It’d be for his wallet.” I roll my eyes, and Michelle and Mackie laugh. Our neighbors in the building across from us are the ones who got us to apply with Le Nanny Agency , so now the four of us get together to exchange stories about our clients .

“Nah. Money’s nice, but it wouldn’t be for that either. It’d be because it’s him—Logan Raider. He’s goddamn hot. He’s powerful. He knows what he wants. That’s why.” Caitlyn’s blue eyes bug out, and she licks her lips. Drunk and not making sense .

The girls all agree, while I sip my Diet Coke, feeling like the odd girl out, as usual .

I don’t know that I could ever sleep with a guy just because of who he is. A man has to make me laugh, care about me, make me want to sleep with him by wooing me, not just for being who he is. That’s why I’ve only had one boyfriend in my life. Yes, I’m picky .

Logan Raider did have gorgeous yes, though. Silver with flecks of steely blue. It was hard to concentrate on the fact that he was cold and unforgiving with eyes like those staring at me .

Luckily, the topic of conversation shifts, and we finally talk about something other than me. The wolves begin to circle—men waiting for the right opportunity to cut in and introduce themselves to Caitlyn. I’m listening to Michelle tell the story of the family she’s working for—the father, specifically, who’s a middle-aged perv—when suddenly, I feel compelled to look off to my far right toward the bar door. What makes me look? Some sixth sense ?

Because there, weaving his way through the crowd is Logan Raider. And his gaze is glued to me. I feel like a deer in headlights or a criminal caught with her pants down. “What the …”

“Paisley? What is it?” Caitlyn scratches my elbow to get my attention .

Our waiter appears with her third wine glass and a refill for my soda. He blocks my vision, and for a moment, I think maybe I’ve hallucinated seeing my new boss. I mean, the man has been on my mind all day. It’s entirely possible that I’ve just imagined the same cheekbones, dazzling eyes, and sharp manner of dress .

But then… “That’s it. She’s done.” The same man appears at my side, takes the drink straight out of the waiter’s hand, and grabs me by the arm. “Let’s go. You’re leaving .”

Even in the darkness, I can see it’s him—it’s Mr. Raider. Nobody’s ever demanded that I get the hell out of anywhere before, much less famous NYC billionaire, Logan Raider. On one hand, I’m aghast that he would come here, seek me out, and talk to me that way. But on the other, I’m a little turned on by it. Much to my chagrin .

“Excuse me?” I yank my arm out of his grasp before I can even process what’s happening .

“You heard me. Outside .”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Caitlyn brushes past me, edging out of her seat to take Logan’s hand and give him that big, beaming Caitlyn smile, which I’ve always envied but right now I hate, hate, hate. “Mr. Raider, it’s so nice to meet you. Paisley’s so lucky she gets to work for you. But you’re lucky, too, to be fair.” She winks at me over her shoulder. “You didn’t tell me he was meeting us for drinks .”

“He’s not,” I mutter, wishing I could shrink into the walls .

I cannot believe this is happening .

Logan’s nostrils flare. “I’m not here to socialize. I need to speak with Miss Carrington.” He reaches around her back, as Caitlyn’s arms break into goosebumps at his touch, and tugs on my sleeve. “Outside, Now,” he tells me .

Then he disappears into the crowd, while half the bar stares at me, my heart pounds in my throat, and Caitlyn’s jaw hangs by her knees. “What was that all about? Oh, my God, Paisley. Are you in trouble already? You little viper!” She looks at me like she’s never seen me before, like she’s impressed with my imaginary criminal record .

“I haven’t done anything. Be right back.” I grab my purse in case I won’t be back. I try to think about anything I might’ve done wrong since I left his penthouse this morning. Everything I’ve done in life wrong, for that matter. Once I copied Jacob Sadler’s spelling test in fourth grade, only because I’d been sick all week and couldn’t study the words .

But why would Logan be upset with me ?

I push through the double doors into the cold, clear night. I find him standing by a lamp post, glaring .

“That was incredibly disrespectful what you did in there,” I tell him, pointing at the bar. Again, I don’t care who he is or how much money he’s got—nobody treats me that way .

“It was disrespectful of you to go out partying and drinking the night before you’re to report at my home at seven AM, the night before you meet my children .”

“What?” I gasp. “Are you kidding me right now?” I consider the possibility that I’m on some prank reality show. He’s way off base, I don’t care how hot he looks when he’s angry. “I wasn’t drinking. I was having a Diet Coke .”

I’ve heard of companies stalking Facebook pages to find out if their employees are behaving, but I’ve never heard of an employer following you out to a bar .

“If you’ll remember, I installed an app on your phone this morning, Miss Carrington. I would’ve thought you’d have been wise enough to guess I’d monitor your activities this evening .”

“This is my private time, Mr. Raider. You told me you wouldn’t invade my privacy. It was only for the protection of your children…who I’ve never even met .”

“This is for the protection of my children. I can’t have the new nanny getting smashed with her friends the night before she’s due to begin working with my children .”

“Well, that’s just a risk you’re going to have to take, isn’t it?” I cross my arms to stand my ground. I’m shaking. “I’m sorry, but you can’t follow me around during my time off to make sure I do everything you tell me to do. That’s not how it works .”

“That is how it works.” His eyes darken .

“Do you treat your housekeepers this way, too ?”

“My housekeepers only come twice a week and only because my aunt insists on it. Otherwise, I couldn’t care less to have them around. You’re different. You’ll be watching my kids. I have a right to know what you’re doing. If you don’t like it, you can quit .”

My mouth opens to argue again .

I don’t want to quit. Besides losing out on great money, there’s something else …

I’d be disappointed not to see him again .

Although my brain wants to fight this fight, my body hasn’t gotten the memo. Maybe it’s because no man has ever sought me out that way before, just barged right into an establishment and ordered me to come outside. Or because it’s because I haven’t so much as kissed a man in over a year, and this one is so authoritative that it’s sent my mind into a tizzy. But my body feels alive. Every square inch of me feels like it’s on liquid fire. Adrenaline times ten .

What is wrong with me ?

I should be livid but somehow, I’m not. It’s as if I actually like him watching over me, as if I simply want his attention at any cost .

He watches me carefully, his chest heaving slightly, giving away his stone, controlled exterior as being not quite the whole story. Wait. Is this really about his children? He taps on his phone, and cheep-cheep , the super-fancy black sports car next to us comes to life. “Get in. I’ll drive you home,” he says .

Whoa. That car is worth more than my parents’ house .

“I already told you, I’m not drunk. I was having a Diet Coke. That’s what responsible people do the night before they report to work for the first time .”

He opens the side door and scoffing, I huff and climb inside, sliding into cold, black leather. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe this guy is my boss. What have I gotten myself into ?

After he comes around and climbs in, he checks the mirrors and the road before taking off down the street going in the right direction. I guess he knows where I live, too. Of course he does—he’s got all my info and a GPS right on my phone .

“Your friend was drinking. She was intoxicated, and there were plenty of drunk men staring at you. Doesn’t give off a good impression of the person I hired, does it ?”

I gawk at him. Seriously? “Maybe they were staring at Caitlyn, but not me .”

“Of course, it was at you. Anyone with eyes can see that you…” He pauses .

Knuckles grip the steering wheel tightly .

“See what ?”

My heartbeat speeds up again like it’s at the Indianapolis 500. Does he think I was flirting with those men? Could this possibly be because he likes me ?

There’s just no way. Logan Raider is the hottest commodity on the planet. He could have any woman he wants. Quite literally …

Even so, it’s not right, but I can’t bring myself to be mad. I’ve never had this kind of attention before—the hot-billionaire-ordering-me-into-his-car-because-he’s-raving-jealous kind. Holy shit .

Checking the time on his watch, he silently decides something, then makes a left, taking me further away from Brooklyn and closer to downtown Manhattan. “Where are we going?” I ask .

“My place. You can sleep there and be ready bright and early for when Becca and Price arrive .”

“But I don’t have anything on me. I need my clothes, my bag, all my stuff …”

“I’ve taken care of everything. You’ll have the clothes I’ve bought for you, all the items you need. Stocked bedroom, stocked bathroom. Whatever you need, just ask for it.” He looks straight ahead, as he shifts through the gears. I watch his right fist commanding the manual transmission, as the engine revs. I’ve never seen anyone drive stick before .

It’s sexy as hell .

I guess I don’t need anything from home, and it would be better to arrive now than brave subway traffic in the morning. This would seem more of a blessing if I weren’t so perplexed about everything going on. I stare out the window and cluck my tongue. This is crazy. So crazy .

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a control freak?” I ask, finally .

He takes a moment before answering. Those eyes slide over to me, illuminated by the city lights, and I catch tension in them. He wants to be angry at me. He wants to tell me I’m wrong, but clearly, I’m 100% correct. “You have no idea, Miss Carrington .”

It’s the first time I ever see him smile .