Nanny

3

Kate

Braxton Nash.

The man whose name was on the flipping building.

I gawked at Adam. "You're not... I'll be nannying for..."

"For Mr. Nash," he repeated. "Follow me. He's expecting you, and his schedule is very busy."

I numbly walked out of the conference room and down the hall. I thought the interview was going well, but it wasn't even the real interview. Adam was his personal assistant.

I knew he looked too young to be an executive.

We reached a large wooden door at the end of the hall. Adam knocked once, then opened it. He held the door out and gestured for me to go inside.

Braxton Nash's office was just as large as the conference room. The floors were polished marble and the ceiling was so far above that I forgot we were on the top floor of a skyscraper. The walls were made of dark wood, which matched the wide desk on the other side of the room by the windows. A leather chair was turned around, blocking my view of whoever was sitting in it.

Speaking of views, the floor-to-ceiling windows on the other side of the desk gave a breathtaking view of lower Manhattan. It was the same view from the helicopter: skyscrapers stretched toward the heavens, structures of steel and glass that were impossibly tall. Yet the building we were currently in was taller than most of them.

A building with his name on it...

The leather chair swiveled.

I knew from my helicopter Google search that Braxton Nash was forty-one, but he looked like he was twenty-five. His skin was tan, but not overly so. It looked like a natural tan rather than something earned in a tanning bed. He had thick jet-black hair combed to perfection above sharp, intelligent eyes. His cheeks were smooth and his jawline was strong, as strong as his body looked underneath his three-piece suit.

He was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome.

And when he smiled at me? My mouth went dry and my knees felt weak.

"Miss Renfroe." He spoke in a soft, but deep voice. Like he was a man who knew he didn't need to speak loudly to command attention. "I'm glad you could make it on such short notice."

There was a chair on my side of the desk, but I was too nervous to sit. It felt like my feet were rooted to the ground.

"Thank you for having me, Mr. Nash," I managed to say. "It's, um, an honor to be here."

I winced. It's an honor to be here? I sounded like a girl who was nervous to be standing in front of a billionaire. Which, of course, I was. But I didn't want to sound like it.

"Please call me Braxton," he said softly.

"Yes, Mr. Na—I mean, Braxton." It felt ridiculously informal to be calling this billionaire by his first name. I couldn't imagine calling Bill Gates Bill or Jeff Bezos Jeff. Not to their faces.

He steepled his fingers together while regarding me from behind the desk. "I trust that Adam has given you the details of this position?"

"He has," I said. "You have twins, Allie and Barry? Age four?"

"That is correct. Please, tell me about your experience taking care of children."

"Well..." I thought about what I had told Adam moments ago. "Ever since I was a little girl I've loved children..."

"I'm interested in your more recent experience," he clarified.

"I..." A lump was growing in my throat. I swallowed it and said, "More recently, I have nannied for several families in Connecticut..."