“They? Who? The Wilde family?”
I couldn’t imagine the nanny position was actually for the Wilde family. For one, I’d never heard of any of them having children. Certainly not Severn. His siblings all had names like Fern and Winter and Creek—I guess when you were fabulously wealthy, you could name your children whatever weird trend you wanted—but I didn’t recall that any of them had children, either. And besides, just because the tower had the Wilde name on it didn’t mean all seventy-five floors were Wilde Enterprises. There could be dozens of other businesses here. For all I knew, whole floors were actually apartments or even hotel rooms.
The elevator stopped abruptly, and I stumbled, catching myself on the railing. She grinned as she opened the door.
“Fiftieth floor.”
I stepped out into a lobby surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond, the city skyline glittered beneath the rising sun. It had to be the most breathtaking view of Manhattan I’d ever seen. The Wilde family was hoarding this amazing view, and no one even knew about it.
A door opened behind me, and someone cleared their throat.
I turned to find myself looking directly at Severn Wilde’s gorgeous face. It was actually him. The same face I’d seen on newspapers and television ever since moving to New York five years ago to attend NYU. He was only in his late twenties—a business prodigy—but in person, he looked somehow both older and younger at the same time.
He was significantly taller than I’d imagined and towered over my five-seven frame. Unlike so many celebrities whose photos were edited to make them look perfect, somehow, Severn Wilde was even more attractive in person. His good looks weren’t just the results of a calculated camera angle or good lighting. His honey-brown hair practically glittered. All I could see was that perfectly straight nose and those famous green eyes.
I had figured some secretary or house manager would be interviewing me, not one of the busiest CEOs in all of Manhattan.
“You’rehiring a nanny?” I blurted out.
He raised an eyebrow. “Willow O’Dell, I take it?”
I must have turned bright red. My cheeks burned. I quickly shook some sense into myself and straightened my dress. Acting like this, he was going to think I was as besotted with him as those wealthy socialites who chased after him down at charity events.
I held out my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wilde.”
He didn’t ask me to call him Severn. He gave me a doubting look and then motioned to his office. “This won’t take long.”
Well, great. I’d already blown it.
I followed him into one of the most opulent offices I’d ever seen. It looked straight out of a European hunting lodge, with wooden furniture and beautiful forest-scene paintings in gilded frames. There was something about the fanciful nature of the forest scenes that made me think of the faerie tales my mother told me, and my fingers itched to copy them into my sketchbook. For a moment, it looked as though the stags in the painting had been moving, and I had to blink to reassure myself they weren’t. If it wasn’t for the magnificent view of the city behind him, I never would believe we were still in Manhattan.
He sank into a chair behind his desk, stacking some notebooks, hardly glancing at me. “You’ve worked as a governess before?”
“Governess?” I knew what the archaic word meant but hadn’t expected to hear it on his lips.
He waved his hand dismissively. “Nanny. Whatever you call it these days.”
I briefly thought of the elevator attendant and her warning not to lie. I hadn’t worked as a nanny—orgoverness—but I thought about how I could word things so as not to be exactly a lie. I settled on a vague “I’ve taken care of children before.”
Severn snapped his eyes to me as though he sensed I was dodging the truth. “And you’re willing to work full-time? It’s a live-in position.”
I sure as hell hope so.I couldn’t stay with Zara forever.
“Yes, but the ad didn’t say where the position was located?”
He blinked as though that should be obvious. “It’s here.” When I looked confused, he clarified, “Wilde Tower. The upper twelve floors are private residences.”
Shock must have shown on my face because he smirked as he continued combing through papers. “I’ve recently come into guardianship for two children, a boy and a girl. Both their parents are deceased. The mother died when they were infants. Their father was a friend of mine…” His eyes flashed with something dark and distant, but then it was gone in the next moment. “The details are not important. I don’t have time or inclination to take care of children. They are currently living in one of the penthouses. You’ll share it with them, though you’ll have your own wing with a private bedroom suite and bathroom…”
I held up my hand for him to stop. “My own…penthouse wing? In Wilde Tower?”
“The pay is $5,000.”
“Per month?” I gasped. That was serious money, more money than I’d ever dreamed of making at twenty-three years old. Certainly not as a studio assistant for that creep Professor Decker, which had barely paid minimum wage.
“Per week,” he corrected crisply.
I could only stare.
