The Billionaire's Nanny. Melissa McCloneЧитать онлайн книгу.
white picket fence—had been within her grasp. But something had felt off. The idea of a ready-made family appealed to her, but Trey was still grieving the loss of his wife. Any feelings he had for Emma couldn’t be real. Not that soon after burying the mother of his children. The more Emma had thought about going after her dreams with Trey, the more wrong doing so had felt. So she quit.
She shifted the phone to her other ear. “The twins were easy. They’re little.”
“AJ’s grandmother is little. Barely five feet tall from what I’ve heard.”
Emma sighed. “Libby.”
“What? You have all the skills needed for my job. I could never do yours because of the crud and ick factor.”
True. Libby didn’t do crud or ick. She moved ten feet away from people who sneezed. She used two napkins during meals. She carried hand sanitizer at all times.
Emma never minded the messes kids made. Holding tissues during nose blowing. Wiping jelly spots off Abbie’s cheeks. Helping Annie change her sheets before anyone noticed her wet bed.
A lump formed in Emma’s throat, pressed upward. No regrets. She couldn’t work for the Lundbergs when she didn’t have the same feelings for Trey as he had for her. She’d helped find her replacement, trained the new nanny and told the girls to call if they needed anything...anytime.
A wistful, but not unexpected, sigh escaped. She wanted to find that special someone who would take care of her the way she took care of everybody else. Too bad happily-ever-after endings happened only in storybooks, not real life.
Emma cleared her throat. “The cruddy stuff isn’t so bad. There’s lots of fun to be had on the playground, believe it or not.”
Except on the swings. She hated swings.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Libby said.
Emma’s name sounded over the PA system. Every muscle group bunched, including ones she’d never met. Her stomach jangled, a mix of worry and trepidation.
She’d ridden enough elevators and carnival rides to know her tummy’s reaction to weightlessness. Antigravity was her proven enemy, its falling sensation her greatest fear.
She blew out a puff of air. “Time to go.”
“Good luck, not that you need it.”
She swallowed. “Thanks.”
“Have a good flight.”
The line disconnected.
Emma tucked her phone into her tote bag, hand trembling. She swung the leather strap over her shoulder then picked up the cat carrier. “Here we go, Blossom.”
The cat’s snarl sounded like a combination of moan, hiss and spit. An omen of things to come? Emma hoped not.
* * *
The jet taxied on the tarmac in Hillsboro, Oregon. Except for a slight movement of AJ’s tablet on the table in front of his seat and a glance out the window, he wouldn’t have realized they’d landed. Not surprising. His flight crew consisted of top-notch, former military pilots. AJ never worried what was happening in the cockpit. But he was worried about the stranger, a nanny with a cat, who would be his assistant for the next five days. AJ rubbed his chin.
Emma is my best friend. She’s smart and conscientious. A hard worker. She doesn’t like to fly, but trust me. She’s the perfect person, the only person, to take my place while you’re in Haley’s Bay.
Libby had been his personal assistant for two years. He had no reason to doubt her. Relying on her recommendation made more sense than yanking an employee away from other duties or hiring an untested temp from a service. A nanny should be able to follow directions, entertain his brother Ellis’s kids at their grandmother’s birthday party and, most importantly, deal with AJ’s family. He wasn’t a fan of cats, but he hoped the feline would be a distraction. The more attention his family gave the cat, the less they would give AJ. A win-win situation for all involved. Mostly him.
Dad wouldn’t say much, if anything, unless forced to talk by Mom. The man would never forgive AJ for leaving Haley’s Bay and the family business after graduating from college. The fact that he’d bailed out the fishing company during the economic downturn had only made his father resent AJ more. As if he’d had any other choice.
What was he supposed to do? See his family bankrupt and out of work, especially Ellis with a wife and two kids? No way. AJ had the means. Not helping would have been worse. Unthinkable.
He would never apologize to his father or anyone in his family for choosing to make billions with a computer instead of breaking his back working on a boat. AJ regretted nothing. He doubted his dad could say the same thing, if Jack Cole ever decided to talk to his oldest son again.
AJ wasn’t sure how his four younger brothers would react to his being home. Only Grady, the youngest of the family, kept in touch. At least AJ wouldn’t have to worry about the female members of the Cole family.
The Cole women would welcome him home with smiles and hugs. His grandmother, mom and two sisters called, texted, Skyped and visited him as much as they could. Though the four would likely be butting their noses into his life and asking much too personal questions while he was there. His stomach tightened.
Why had he wanted to come back? Oh, yeah. His grandmother’s eightieth birthday.
An alarm sounded. The buzzing filled the cabin and made him glance at his tablet.
A message illuminated the screen. Conference Call—Marketing Department. Libby must have set his clock when he said goodbye at the hospital. The woman was the definition of competent, vital to his success for keeping his life running smoothly.
If only Libby were here with him. Damn appendix. Striking her down in New York. He balled his hands. AJ couldn’t believe Libby had hidden her condition from him until it was almost too late. A foolish move, but one done out of loyalty to him. She knew how much he relied upon her. Or had until leaving him stuck with a nanny from Portland, Oregon.
If AJ didn’t know better, he would think his father planned this. But nothing, not a hospitalized assistant or a cat-carrying nanny, would stop AJ from showing his family how far he’d come. Nothing was going to stop him from making a triumphant return to Haley’s Bay.
Nothing at all.
* * *
Emma stepped outside the terminal, a sunny August sky overhead. Flying was safer during good weather, right?
But the roar of engines weighted her feet like chimney bricks.
For Libby. Step by dragged step, Emma crossed the tarmac toward a new-looking jet. Her heart pounded in her throat.
For Libby. Emma clasped the jet’s railing. Her legs trembled—don’t stumble—and she forced herself to climb the short staircase, one step, then another, followed by two more.
For Libby. Emma stepped into the plane. The hair on the back of her neck and arms prickled, ramrod straight beneath her sweater.
Noise from planes taking off and landing faded. Air-conditioning cooled her skin. The jet’s interior muted tones exuded calm comfort. The plush carpet and cushioned chairs were a hundred and eighty degrees different from flying on a packed 737 with zero legroom and no empty seats. This time might be different.
“Welcome aboard, Miss Markwell.” An attractive woman with long blond hair, a light blue blouse and navy slacks greeted her with a bright, white-tooth smile. “I’m Camille. I’ll be your flight attendant today.”
“Hi, I’m Emma.” She forced a first impression smile and raised the cat carrier, welcoming the distraction. “Is there a place this should go?”
“I have the perfect spot.” Camille took the carrier. “What’s your cat’s name?”
“Not my cat. She’s a foster. Long story. But her name is Blossom.