The Billionaire's Nanny

Who is Sarah?

After losing my way only two times, I finally ended up at the door Mia described to be Lucas' office. Only a matter of time before I would be able to know my way around here without getting lost. I took a deep breath, and gave myself a few seconds to clear my head, then knocked on one of the large double doors. I expected that he would be here since I took a damn long time to find it.

His deep voice boomed from inside, "Come in."

Well, here goes nothing, I thought as I pushed the door open.

As I walked in, my eyes quickly took in the surrounding. Like every other room I had been to in this house, it was large, with a desk covered in stacks of folders, and a laptop. The walls were decorated with charts of the chemical elements and behind the desk, a scribbled whiteboard hung on two poles.

On the left side of the room, there sat a work table, different from the desk, holding up another pile of notebooks, a pair of goggles and unused gloves, a cup of coffee, and another laptop.

None of these though were as attractive as the man leaning on the desk. His hair looked more tousled than it looked a while ago when he was with the kids. He must have run his hand through it a few times. A few wrinkled lines formed on his forehead, and his shoulders were rigid, if I didn't know better, I would say he was tensed.

He smiled nervously as I walked into the room, I didn't bother returning the smile, there was no need to pretend we liked each other. But you still have fantasies about him, a small annoying voice in my head reminded me. Even though that was true, it did not mean I had to like him.

"Hi Chris," he managed to look up, but still avoided my eyes.

"Hi," I said in a clipped tone. I was not going to give him even the slightest chance to be rude to me again.

"Thanks for coming back."

"I only came back for the kids," and the 100 grand you paid me for the job.

A flash of disappointment crossed his features, but he quickly covered it up with a fake smile. "Well, thank you for coming back for them."

I nodded in reply.

"Please have a seat, there are a few things we have to discuss." he gestured to the chair next to him. The distance between him and the chair was merely a few inches—not enough—.

"No thanks, I'll stand." I crossed my hand across my chest as I spoke.

"Okay," he said, nodding at the same time.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked, moving to the minibar at the corner.

I could not understand why he was still feigning concern and pretending to be nice. It was starting to piss me off.

"Can you cut it out already," I snapped

"Excuse me?" he stopped and turned to face me back.

"Can you stop pretending to be nice to me? You don't have to pretend to like me, just because I accepted the job. There's no one here so you can cut it out and go back to being the asshole you are,"

"You think I'm pretending?" he almost sounded hurt.

"I don't care, just get on with whatever you called me here for."

He opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it and just nodded. His expression changed, and I could not tell whether it was angry or hurt, I didn't care either.

He walked back to his desk and took his seat, then took out a folder from the stacks piled. He dropped it on the desk with a loud thud and continued sorting through the other folders. "That's an NDA," he said in a cold voice without looking up from his desk. "go through it and sign it by morning, I need it before I leave tomorrow."