I scroll up and see the message he sent after I accepted the job, which included the address and time for Monday. I plug it into my Apple Maps and know it will take about ten minutes to arrive. It looks like he lives near the center of town.
Sweet. I jump out of bed, pulling the duvet cover over and tucking it in. I put my phone on the charger and head for a shower. I grab a racerback athletic two-piece outfit to wear. It looks like a dress with a slit up the side, but it has shorts on the bottom. I love these outfits because they are practical and fun. It’s an olive color that I pair with some sneakers. I look at myself in the mirror and debate whether to wear makeup, but decide to go light since I am just going over to meet Catalina. I still have to grab something to eat, and blow-drying my hair will take forever. I place some firm-holding hair products in and plait it. I twist the braid into a bun so it’s out of my face. I grab my pearl earrings from the set my mother gave me and put on my Apple Watch. I look at myself in the longmirror, twisting sideways, kicking my foot up. Perfect.
I open the glass lid on the two remaining scones I bought from the bakery the other day. I take a blueberry one and plate it. I grabbed one of my mom’s favorite mugs, which had the names of banned books. “Lady Chatterley’s Lover,” I read aloud, laughing. I think that one is in the bookcase in the sunroom. I grab a tea bag of Earl Grey and pour hot water from the jug dispenser on the side of the kitchen pantry. Then, I begin to froth some sweet vanilla cream oat milk. I place my breakfast on the kitchen island, sit down, and grab my iPad from the counter, where I left it yesterday, to do my Wordle for the day until I have to go.
Ten minutes later, I’m still driving. “Where the hell is his house?” I mutter, circling the center of town. Of course, it’s a one-way street, so every missed turn sends me back through the roundabout. Then I spot a white truck. “Shit, there it is.” I take the second exit this time and stop at the stop sign. The GPS was telling me to go through this street, but there is no entrance there, or maybe there was at one point, and it didn’t update. Alas, technology. I debate whether to park in his driveway or on one of the streets, but decide to pull up next to his work truck, with his company name displayed on a decal on the side doors. I look at it like I did that day at the diner.
I close the car door and walk on the pavers that lead to his well-maintained lawn, which has pretty decorative purple plants along the walkway. The house is immaculate and well-maintained. It’s a small cape with white paint and black shutters, except for the door. It’s yellow, which seems odd when I imagine this man painting it a bright sunny yellow, so at odds with his demeanor. I knock on the door and wait. I look around at the other houses, which seem to mimic this one. There are also cute plants, nice green grass out front, wreaths on the doors, and welcome mats. I turn back toward the door and knock again. I see movement in the window and walk over to it, where I see a little girl waving at me. I wave back, and a second later, the door opens.
I look, and Catalina is staring up at me. “Are you here to see my dad?” she asks. I smile at her and bend down to talk to her at her level.
“Yes, but I’m actually here to see you.” Her eyes widen in surprise.
“Are you a friend of Mommy’s?” she asks almost hesitantly, and I don’t know how to unpack that question or answer it. She glances backward quickly, and I sense this is a problem for them.
“No. I am your new nanny,” I tell her quickly, trying to ease the rising tension. She grabs my hand, almost knocking me off-balance.
“Well, why didn’t you say that, silly goose?” she says, pulling me into the house and closing the door behind us. “My daddy said my new nanny was going to be here tomorrow. Are you Ms. Kennedy?” I can’t help but laugh.
“Yes, my name is Nadia Kennedy, but you can call me Ms. Nadia, okay?” While Catalina and I are making introductions, I see movement in the hallway. Manuel is walking this way, oblivious to the present company his daughter just invited into their home. I immediately want to say something, but I also want to run outside his door and wait there. I feel like an intruder and am second-guessing myself for allowing his daughter to invite me in. What on earth was I thinking?
He walks toward us, drying his wet hair with a towel and wearing only a pair of jeans. His bare feet peek out from underneath the hem. My gaze roams to the way his thighs fill them out and upward to his muscular torso, which is on full display. When I saw him at the town fields with his daughter, the shirt that previously covered them was pulled taut across those firm pecs, hiding them. They did not do him justice because he appears even bigger now without it. Ink is spread across his torso and down his arms. I imagine myself tracing that tattooed line with my finger, maybe my…
He snaps his head up, sensing he is no longer alone. His eyes meet mine, and then he looks at his daughter accusingly. “Catalina,” he draws out her name. “I told you not to answer the door and let anyone in.”
She swings back and forth, sticking her pointer finger in the air. “Nope, Dad. You said not to let Victoria’s stalker mom into the house.”
I turn my head away from her, trying not to laugh, but I fail miserably. Manuel sighs. She takes that as a win.
“This is my new nanny, and she’s not a stranger or a stalker. Are you, Ms. Nadia?” She beams at me.
“I am definitely not either of those things, but…” I look at Manuel briefly before continuing. I think your dad was trying to tell you that you shouldn’t open the door for anyone unless he tells you to, okay?” She looks at me with clear blue eyes, and I can’t help but smile. She nods.
“Okay, Ms. Nadia, I promise,” she says. I look back at Manuel, and he is watching our interaction. As if remembering, he is still half undressed. He points to the hallway he just came out of.
“I am going to finish getting dressed.” He reaches to scratch behind his neck. And I track his every movement, of the way his pecs ripple with the movement and his bicep bulge as he extends his arm backward. “I’ll be right back.” I watch his retreating form and can’t help but remember the way he stared at me at the diner. It was almost cruel. He seems to have a good relationship with his daughter, which is all that matters. He is just my employer, and I’m not here to pass judgment on anything.
When he returns, he is dressed in a navy, fitting t-shirt and sneakers. I like his shirtless form better with his bare feet peeking from underneath. “Hey, I’m glad you could make it today, and I apologize for the short notice.”
I wave it off. “Not a problem. So, what is the schedule like?” I look around the house. “Do you have anything that I need to do?”
He seems to think about it. “Not really. What did you do with the other kids you took care of?” he asks, almost like he has no idea about childcare.
“Have you had a nanny before?” I ask.
He nods. “One, but it didn’t work out.” He looks at his daughter briefly, and I realize he doesn’t want to tell me now, or maybe he can’t. I look at Catalina, who watches and listens to everything we say. I decide to change the subject.
“So, Catalina, what do you like to do? Do you have anything that you want to do tomorrow when I come over?” She immediately runs off to her room and brings back a coloring book.
“I like to color and draw. I like playing outside on my swingset and going to the library to get books,” she says, smiling her gap-toothed smile at me.
“Oh, that sounds fun. I know everyone at the library, too.” I look at Manuel. “Is it okay to leave the house with her, or…” I trail off, watching him frown immediately.
“Please, Dad, can we?” Catalina asks, and I’m wondering if I shouldn’t have put him on the spot.
I mouth, “Sorry,” and he shrugs.
“Sure, just stay close to her and don’t let her out of your sight, please.” I gaze at him, puzzled.
