The Nanny and the CEO (3 page)

Ms. Chamberlain really was in financial difficulty if she'd had to stay there.

“Tell Paul to look for the woman in yellow,” Leah added.

“You're being very mysterious, if not cryptic. Give me something to go on.”

“I'll wager she's not like anyone you ever met.”

“That sounds promising.”

“I hoped it would.”

He made a sound in his throat. “Are you still accusing me of being a cynic?”

“I wouldn't do that. If I've made a mistake, call me later and let me know so I can keep looking for the right person.”

“Do me a favor and phone Ms. Chamberlain. If she can be ready in forty-five minutes, we'll pick her up on the way to the apartment.”

“She might not be available before time, but I'll see what I can do and get back to you.” She clicked off.

Nick pocketed his phone, wanting to approve of Leah's assessment of the woman because there was no time to lose. Establishing a routine for the baby with the new nanny ASAP meant he'd sleep better nights. Any more weeks spent with his grandparents and Jamie would think the nurse in the starched uniform was his mother. Heaven forbid.

R
EESE
had barely reached the hotel when her phone rang. She checked the caller ID and her stomach clenched. She might have known this job was too good to be true. Better to brave the bad news now and get it over with before she left for the airport. She couldn't afford to pay for another night here.

“Mrs. Tribe?”

“Ms. Chamberlain? I'm glad you answered. I've spoken with Mr. Wainwright. He's on a tight schedule and would like you to be out in front of the hotel in approximately forty minutes. Is that possible?”

She breathed a huge sigh of relief. “No problem at all.”

“That's fine then. I'll let him know. Good luck to you.”

“Thank you again.”

After hanging up, she hurried to the dorm she'd shared with three other women. The one with Gothic piercings and purple streaks in her hair was still there stuffing everything on the bed into her backpack. She flicked Reese a glance. “How'd that interview go, honey?” Her Southern drawl was unmistakable.

“I think I got the job, but there's one more test to pass.”

“I'd rather blow my brains out than be a nanny. They couldn't pay me enough.”

Reese decided a response wasn't necessary. She only had a few items to pack in her suitcase and got busy.

The woman finished packing her things and turned to Reese. “It's been nice meeting you, honey. Y'all be careful now.”

“You, too. Good luck finding your boyfriend.”

“I'm going to need it.” The door closed. Peace at last.

Reese went to the restroom to freshen up. One look in the mirror and she decided to put her hair back in a ponytail. Babies loved to tug on loose strands. Hers would be better confined. With the heat already building outside, messy limp hair and a flushed face wouldn't make the best impression. She had the kind of skin that splotched when the temperature soared.

After applying a fresh coat of lipstick, she left the bathroom, anxious to get this final interview over. With her purse and briefcase in one hand, and her suitcase in the other, she went downstairs to the lobby to check out. Unfortunately other guests anxious to get out sightseeing had the same idea. She had to wait in line.

There was a small crisis behind the desk. The computers were down. If the problem didn't get resolved fast, Reese was going to be late. Five minutes went by. She made the decision to go outside. Of course it meant losing her place in line. If her ride had come, she would ask the driver to wait while she settled her account.

Sure enough a black limo with smoked glass had
pulled up in front. As she hurried toward it, a uniformed chauffeur of middle age got out. “Ms. Chamberlain?”

“Yes. I'm sorry if you've been waiting. I'm still in line to pay my bill. Could I leave my suitcase with you? I'll run back inside. I shouldn't be much longer.”

“Take your time.”

“Thank you.”

Ten minutes later she rushed back outside. The driver opened the rear door of the limo for her so she could get in.

“Oh—”

 

“Oh” was right, Nick thought to himself as the long-legged, ash-blonde female took the seat opposite him and Jamie. She brought a flowery fragrance into the limo with her. What was she? Twenty-five, twenty-six?

Her modest blouse and skirt couldn't hide the curves of a body well put together. She had to be five-eight in her bone-colored sandals and was so different from the image he had in mind of a plump, fortyish maternal type, he couldn't imagine what Leah had been thinking.

Maybe the wrong person had gotten in the limo, but she was wearing yellow.

“You're Reese Chamberlain?”

“Yes.”

“I'm Nicholas Wainwright.”

Her light blue eyes flared as if in surprise. “How do you do,” she said in a slightly husky voice that for no particular reason appealed to him. When she saw the baby who'd fallen asleep, her eyes sparkled with life. She leaned toward Jamie, seemingly oblivious to Nick. “Oh—look how darling! All that black hair and those long, silky lashes against his cheeks.”

Her gaze finally darted to Nick's. “I'm sorry to have kept you. Mrs. Tribe warned me you were a punctual man, and now I've already committed my first sin. But the computers were down at the hotel and I had to wait in line until they could check me out.”

No New Yorker here or anything close. Midwest maybe? “So my driver explained. We're not in a hurry. Jamie's being very cooperative.”

“He's a wonderful boy.” When her eyes lifted, he could see they'd darkened with emotion. “I'm so sorry about your loss. If you decide to hire me, I promise to do everything I can to make your son as secure and happy as possible until your permanent nanny comes to live with you.”

Either she was the greatest actress alive, or this was her true self. Leah was a shrewd judge of character. Something had to have appealed to his secretary for her to pick a woman whose age and looks were totally wrong for the position. She appeared too healthy to be a model, yet had the right bones and height. All Walter and Anne had to do—or anyone else for that matter—was get a glimpse of her and…

The limo was already working its way through traffic. Paul would have them deposited at the front of the apartment before long. Nick needed more information so he could decide if he would send her back to the hotel before they ever got out of the car.

“Room and board aside, what kind of salary were you expecting, Ms. Chamberlain?”

She named a figure below what he'd anticipated she would ask for. “Does that sound all right to you?”

“It's fine,” he muttered, bemused by everything that
came out of her mouth. “Tell me what happens when you leave me in September?”

“I'll move back to Philadelphia.”

His dark brows lifted. “Another nanny position?”

She studied him with a puzzled expression. “No. I'll be in school again. I guess Mrs. Tribe failed to mention that to you.”

Something had been going on with Leah he didn't understand. Without all the facts, he was at a loss. “She probably did, but I'm afraid I've been preoccupied with the arrangements for my son.”

“Of course. She said your in-laws have been helping out. There's nothing like family coming to the rescue in a crisis. The baby will probably have a hard time with me at first, always looking for you or his grandparents. Were you thinking of giving me a trial run? I'll do whatever. And please don't worry. If you decide to look for someone else, I have a backup plan.”

He blinked in surprise. “I thought you needed a job.”

“I do, but if all else fails, I'll fly home and my father will let me work for him this summer. It isn't what I want to do,” she added, sounding far away, “but as I told you, there's nothing like family in an emergency. Dad's a sweetheart.”

What had Leah said?
I'll wager she's not like anyone you ever met.

“Where is home?”

“Lincoln, Nebraska.”

So Nick was right. “What does your father do for a living?”

“He owns a lumberyard. I've helped in the office before.”

“You're a long way from home. I presume college brought you to the East Coast.”

“That's right. I'm a business major.”

Nick's black brows furrowed. “Have you ever been a nanny?”

“No,” she said forthrightly, “but I come from a large family and have done my share of tending children.”

“Your mother worked, too?”

A gentle laugh escaped. “Oh, she worked—but not outside the home. Being the mother of six children is like running a major corporation. She's been on call 24/7 since I was born.” Her eyes wandered to Jamie. “There's nothing sweeter than a new baby. All they really need is lots of love between eating and sleeping.”

Suddenly the door opened. Paul stood there, reminding Nick they'd arrived. He'd been so engrossed in the conversation he hadn't noticed the limo had stopped. Unless he could come up with a compelling reason not to hire her right now, taking her upstairs would be as good as a fait accompli.

While he hesitated, a piercing siren filled the air, the kind that sent an alarm through your body. It was so loud it woke Jamie, who came awake startled and crying. Before Nick could turn to get the baby's straps undone, Ms. Chamberlain had already accomplished it and plucked him out of the car seat.

In an instant she had him cuddled against her shoulder. She'd moved too fast for it to be anything more than her natural instinct to comfort. “Did that mean old siren scare you?” Her hand shaped the back of his head. “It scared me, too, but it's all right.” She rocked him, giving him kisses until his frightened cries turned into whimpers.

“Sorry,” she said, flicking her gaze to Nick. “I didn't mean to grab him, but that siren made
me
jump and it was easier for me to dive for him than you. His heart is pounding like a jackhammer.” She started to hand the baby to Nick, but he shook his head.

“He seems perfectly happy where he is for the moment.”

With those words it appeared he'd sealed his own fate. Still bemused by what had happened, he turned to an oddly silent Paul who'd already pulled the diaper bag and her suitcase out of the limo.

 

The baby was gorgeous. He had the overall look and coloring of his dark, striking father, but it was apparent his mother had been a beauty in her own right. No wonder Mr. Wainwright seemed to brood even as he spoke to Reese. She hadn't the slightest idea how long he and his wife had been married. What mattered was that she'd only been dead ten weeks.

Reese had undergone her own crushing pain when Jeremy had broken their engagement, but at least they hadn't been married or had a child. She didn't even want to think about the white-hot pain Jamie's father must still be in. Reese couldn't figure out how he was coping.

There was nothing she could do to alleviate his anguish. But if given the chance, she would love his little boy and make him feel secure during the hours his father was at work. By the time fall came and the new nanny took over, his daddy would have put more of his grief behind him.

Last Christmas Reese had been in agony over her split with Jeremy, but six months had gone by and she was still alive and functioning better these days. Though
it would take Mr. Wainwright longer to heal, she was living proof that you didn't die of a broken heart. But he wouldn't want to hear those words right now so she wouldn't say them.

“Shall we go up?”

His deep voice broke into her reverie. She turned her head, surprised he'd already gotten out of the limo. Reese took a quick second breath because it appeared he wasn't about to send her away yet. Feeling the baby cling to her had made the whole situation real for the first time. She discovered she wanted this job very much.

“Jamie seems to have quieted down,” she commented.

“Thanks to you.” The comment warmed her before he reached for his son. Though he was tiny compared to his father, they looked so right together in their matching colored suits. She surmised Mr. Wainwright was in his early to mid-thirties although age was hard to tell and could add years when one was grieving.

Realizing she would become morose if she kept thinking about it, she stepped out of the limo with her purse, determined to put on a bright face for Jamie. That was her job after all. She followed his father inside a prewar brick-and-limestone building. Evidently there'd been massive renovations because the interior exuded luxury. They entered the elevator and rode to the fourteenth floor.

When the doors opened, she glimpsed a penthouse the public only got to see from inside the pages of
Architecture Digest.
The apartment itself was a piece of modern sculpture with its tall curving walls and a sweeping loft where she glimpsed a library of books and statuary. At every turn she was surprised by a bronze
étagère of Mesoamerican artifacts here or a cubist painting there.

Impressions of Old World antiques, objets d'art and moiré silk period pieces flew at her like colors through a prism. There was a grand piano and a set of gorgeous Japanese screens in one section. Everywhere she looked, her gaze fastened on some treasure. A grouping of eighteenth-century furniture faced the fireplace. She wouldn't know where to begin describing the layout or furnishings of this Park Avenue address.

Months ago she'd seen an article with pictures in the
Times
of a condo something like this one that had just sold for thirty million dollars. She supposed his wealth could have come through his business endeavors.

But his breeding gave her the sense that he'd been born into the kind of family whose wealth had been one of the mainstays of Wall Street for generations. Mrs. Tribe hadn't let on. If Reese had been in her place, she wouldn't have, either.

“Since you're from Nebraska and the wide-open spaces, you'll probably find the area out here more to your liking.”

She followed him across the living room's velvety Oriental rugs to the span of rounded arched windows reminiscent of the Italian masters. He opened some sliding doors. When she stepped out on the terrace, she felt as if she'd entered a park complete with trees, hedges, a pool, and tubs of flowering plants placed around with an artistic flare.

As she walked to the edge, she had an unimpeded view of Park Avenue down to the Helmsley building. The whole thing was incredible. “I would imagine after a hard day at the office, this is your favorite room,
too.” She saw a telescope set up at one end beyond the patio furniture. When Jamie was old enough, he'd be enthralled by everything he could see through it from this angle.

“It can be pleasant if it's not too hot. I can't say I've spent that much time out here lately, but I do use the gym every morning. It's on the upper deck of my terrace. You'll see the stairs. You're welcome to work out if you want.”