The Billion Dollar Sitter
Read The Billion Dollar Sitter Online
Authors: Eliza DeGaulle
The Billion Dollar Sitter: The Complete Series
Eliza DeGaulle
Copyright 2014 Darkest Secrets Publishing
Kindle Edition
Contents
1)
Her Billion Dollar First Time
Some girls get scholarships. Some girls have fabulously wealthy parents. Some girls are able to get cleared for loans because their mother's credit rating isn't in the toilet. Me? I have to work to make my dreams a reality. Teaching kindergarten was to be my dream career. I truly loved kids, their bright, shiny faces, lots of youthful optimism, and a great open future ahead of them. I'd love to be their first exposure to education, foster a love of learning and make a foundation for all other educators to build on.
But that was years from now. Even that requires a bachelor's degree, and costs more money than I have.
So I find myself standing before Tender Loving Company, the biggest babysitting agency in the city. Ever since I could call myself a teenager, I'd been looking after my neighbor's kids, and I used their references to finally land myself a job in the big leagues, where I could make decent money doing what I loved and have enough to squirrel away for later education.
I pushed open the glass door and walked to the desk, a smile on my face, and did a little silly salute to the receptionist. "Marci Sky, reporting for duty, ma'am."
She was unamused. "That's lovely. Really. Sit down and I'll call you when the supervisor is ready to see you.
I groaned as I found a chair and glared sadly at the receptionist. What ruined her day already? It was only ten o'clock. But I didn't worry – not like I would be seeing her much. I showed up in person on day-one, got an orientation, but most of my work would be given to me by phone and e-mail, the wonders of the twenty first century.
Grabbing a magazine off the table, I began to read some article on the value of having a full time nanny for your child. It was pretentious to me, assuming most people could afford such a thing.
But I didn't have to pay the stupid article too much thought, because my attention was claimed by a man whose presence demanded it. He pushed open the door and my eyes started eating him up. Strong, tall, sandy shaggy hair, and a beard to match that made him look like he wouldn't be out of place as the lead of a romantic comedy or an action movie
He wasn't a movie star though. He was putting away a sleek smart phone as he entered, checking his gold and silver wristwatch as he walked. It was powerful stride and his suit, double-breasted with a necktie, reinforced that he was a powerful man.
What further helped this assessment was, looking through the window of the building, I saw a long stretch limousine. A man with the typical chauffeur’s cap sat on the car's hood, pulling out and lighting a cigarette. Someone whose sole purpose is to drive you around was a luxury I could never dream of.
But checking out his ride took my eyes away from something far more important. Him. My gaze darted back to the man, who stopped take another call. Something about a deal and how they should be able to handle it without him. He sustained his cool, tucking his phone away, and then something amazing happened.
His eyes turned to me, sitting, holding a stupid magazine. I froze solid, a deer in headlights, easy prey if he were a predator.
To make matters worse, He started walking toward me. I froze even more solid, something I didn't think possible.
A hand went out to mine. "Hello there," he spoke, his voice a beautiful sound to my ears.
I think I managed to blink once.
"Hello?" He waved his hands in front of my eyes.
"Hi." The single syllable proved to be a herculean effort. Slowly, continuing to strain myself, I reached up and touched his hand. It closed around mine, and any shaking we did was all on him.
"Tyson Knight. And you are?"
"Mar - Mar - " I managed to spit my name out after coming off as a gibbering idiot. "Marci Sky."
"Do you work here, Marci? Are you a babysitter for hire?"
"Uh huh. First day."
"Really? Are you excited?"
"Uh huh."
He managed a laugh. "You'll be fine. I doubt you're like this with everyone."
"Uh huh."
His hand broke away.
"Maybe I'll be seeing you sooner rather than later, Marci." He nodded to me, snapping towards his business with the snooty receptionist.
What the hell is wrong with me? Yeah, he's hot. But he's probably like twice your age, Marci. You're a nineteen year old virgin. You should be trying to get boys in college, not people like him, whatever he is.
Just every single way he moved, though, as he slipped the receptionist a few hundred dollar bills and headed straight into the back room.
Does a man like him need a babysitter? Why wouldn't he? Maybe his wife is some sort of super powerful woman, too.
Yeah. He has a wife. He has a child, and a man like him doesn't go sleeping around, and if he did, he'd probably make her raise his bastard with some hush money. I calmed down and returned to the article, which I had strong disagreements with. I may have been a stubborn teenager going against someone with decades of education though, so what did I know?
But Tyson Knight never left my thoughts. I’d heard the name – he was a hot topic on the financial channels, but not before hearing little seconds worth of their news. He was some sort of superstar in that world. I'd never seen him. You usually picture some balding, old white dude, who'd you never think of having, um, relations with, as that guy.
Tyson was the complete opposite. I'd had crushes. Fantasies about rock stars, movie stars, but never about billionaire financial moguls. There is always a first, however.
The receptionist picked up the phone and nodded. "Marci Sky? Wendy will see you now."
I put down the magazine and straightened out my day dress. I had to look professional – first impressions are everything, so I wore the one thing I owned that wasn't a thrift store t-shirt. I proceeded through the door and found a woman with the nametag 'Wendy', who would have been an ideal wet nurse five-hundred years ago. Heaving bosom, a good deal of padding. But to be fair, if she were a quarter century younger, she'd probably be a looker.
She presented her hand and I took it. "Have a seat, Marci." There was shaking, but again, it was all on the other person, as I landed in the chair in more of a falling action than a sitting one.
Tyson Knight was in the room with us. I swallowed, my eyes again never leaving him.
"Marci," Wendy began, "It's typical on a babysitter's first days for me to meet with them and go over their credentials. You know your stuff, and all your references are glowing. You're the kind of girl we want at Tender Loving Company."
"Thank you." I spoke out of the corner of my mouth.
"However, since you're new, you have no current contacts with any of our clients. This makes it very easy for me to do what I need to do. You're fired, Marci."
That broke my visual infatuation with Tyson, my eyes snapping back to Wendy. "You can't be serious! It's my first day, I haven't even done anything! Right or wrong! I thought you said I was perfect for the job."
She laughed. Laughed at my unemployment. My eyes shot down to a stack of hundred dollar bills on the table. "I'm sorry, Marci. It was a financial decision. You have to understand."
I glanced back at Tyson. "You paid her to fire me?" Suddenly the beautiful sheen started to fade from him.
He placed a hand on my shoulder. His beautiful sheen came right back. "Come with me, Marci."
"Yes, sir." I spoke meekly, standing. That hand was my collar. I'd walk off a cliff if he guided to me do so.
We entered the hallway, walking past the receptionist and out the door, to the limousine. "Let's take a ride."
He gestured and the chauffeur hopped right in. He took my hand, offering to help me in like a gentleman.
My parents always told me that I shouldn't get into cars with strangers. But this wasn't a car. It was a limousine.
Okay, a limo is a car, but it's a limo!
I accepted his aid, taking a seat on the beautiful leather, soft under my skin. A fully stocked bar was in front of me, as well as a fruit and vegetable tray, delicately sliced, surrounding a tempting looking dip. It was like his limo was catered. He gestured toward a bottle of wine. "May I offer you a drink? Calm those nerves?"
"I'm not twenty one."
He laughed. "I'd overlook that for you, but I understand."
He sat back and crossed his legs as the limo pulled onto the road. I looked at him from the corner of my eye. "What do you want from me?"
"I want to hire you, Marci."
"You could have just hired me through the company. They allow people to request certain sitters."
"Not for the extent I seek." He leaned back, his face solemn. "Recently I have faced great tragedy. My wife passed in a plane accident some months ago."
"That's terrible." What was more terrible was that some part of me perked up, as if it now meant I had a chance.
"I'll never forget Margaret. But I've always made it a point not to be stuck in the past, and she wouldn't want me to lock myself away from the world in grief. So I try to live on, for her."
"You seem to be coping well."
"In the business world, certain emotions are seen as weakness. You learn to mask them." He sighed a deeply. "Margaret left me with a beautiful son before she passed. He's five months old. I'm thankful for him, but it hurts me sometimes. Maggie and I always wanted a huge family. But three has become two, with no ability to increase."
I was still paralyzed with anxiety, having someone of his overwhelming presence near me. It was getting better, but I wanted to lay a hand on him, offer him comfort. He fought his grief, but with how he kept going off topic, I knew it still tortured him. "There's always hope for someone else, it may be too soon, but you know." I avoided eye contact. Don't go telling the widower, 'Hey, I'm available! Fuck me full of your babies, instead!'
"There is. I'm hoping you will ease me into the transition." He took a deep breath and turned my face to his, making me make physical contact with him. "I am a busy man, Marci. My late wife was a wonderful mother, and without her, there's a void for my son. The sitters I have hired aren't willing to do what I need."
He took the bottle of wine, starting to pour some into a glass. Was he as nervous as I was?
"I seek a caretaker for Ty Jr. One that will live in my mansion, stay in a room feet away from him, and dedicate their life to being the surrogate mother that any child deserves –especially my child. There will be," letting out a long breath with his pause, "other duties I will request of her, as well."
I gulped down a breath. "Why did you come to some pedestrian agency like TLC? There's gotta be some high end place with expertly trained nannies, with college degrees in child care and all that."
"I considered them, yes. But each of them has their own problems. Too many connections with people, a probable unwillingness to move into my home. Too old."
Too old? What did that have to do with anything?
He continued. "You, Miss Sky, have no connections in this world yet. Young, spirited, and Wendy has endorsed your potential abilities as a caretaker. I believe I could trust someone like you with my children."
"Children? I thought you only had one?"
"I'm trying to live in the future." He sipped the wine. "But perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself. You would move into my mansion, all expenses paid, in return for carrying out your duties. I offer you simple terms: One million dollars for one year of service."
My eyes widened. I never thought I'd ever have a million dollars in my life, but here he was, offering it to me plainly.
"There will be countless perks, and you will not have to spend a penny of that money before the year is up. An offer for renewal if we both are satisfied with the agreement is not out of the question, either."
"Um, is this some sort of prank show? This is a pretty big limo. There's hidden cameras somewhere around here, aren't there? This is hard to believe."
"I do not deal in pranks and foolishness, Marci. I know even with that number, I'm asking much of you, for you to leave your home and your life. So we're going to drop you off at your residence. I'll have my lawyers draw up the contract to make it official, as it will outline the rest of your duties on top of Ty Jr.'s care, and I will send it over quickly, before the evening comes. If you agree, pack your belongings and a driver will be come and collect you tomorrow morning."
