Nanny

7

Kate

The flight to Manhattan seemed to take longer than it had the first time. The rising sun reflected off the multitudes of skyscrapers as if the city was one giant disco ball.

"Where does Mr. Nash live?" I asked.

"The residence is below Mr. Nash's office," Adam replied.

We circled the towering Nash Capital building, then landed on the roof. My hair flew in all directions as we ducked underneath the rotors and into the elevator. We descended a few floors, and when the elevator doors opened I was greeted with a massive, sprawling penthouse view.

"Oh my God," I whispered. The living room—I think it was a living room—had high ceilings that took up at least two floors. Windows covered the entire outer wall, giving a view of lower Manhattan every bit as breathtaking as the view from Braxton's office above. The walls were pristine white, the floors were white marble, and warm sunlight filled the space.

I walked into the living room and gazed around. A curving staircase ran along one wall to a loft area on the second floor. Through the doors on the left I could see a massive kitchen with stainless steel appliances, and to my right was another staircase leading down to another floor.

Miranda's house could fit inside this penthouse, I thought. Heck, five of her houses could fit.

The squealing sound of children caught my attention. Adam smiled and said, "This way," then led me down another hallway to a bedroom that looked surprisingly normal. The walls were covered with colorful paintings, and toys were strewn all over the floor.

In the middle of the floor was Braxton Nash, world famous billionaire, wrestling with his two kids. The boy squealed and pounded on his dad's back, until Braxton reached over his shoulder and pulled the child forward.

"Noooo!" the boy cried happily.

"I've got you! I've got you!" Braxton teased while tickling his son. The boy dissolved into a fit of kicking and giggling. The daughter jumped on his back and clung to him like a monkey.

"Now I got you," she insisted in a high-pitched voice. "I win!"

"You don't win until it's over!" Braxton roared. He stood up and spun in a circle, trying to throw the girl off. She continued clinging to him, her long black hair flowing behind her.

I smiled while I watched them. The maternal part of me swooned. There was nothing more attractive than the way a good father cared for his children.

Sometime during the spin, Braxton realized they weren't alone. He slowed down, stumbling a bit with dizziness. The girl peeked over his shoulder at us.

"Daddy! A visitor!"

The boy jumped up and almost tackled Adam's leg. Adam laughed and ruffled his black hair. The girl hopped off her dad's back and stood in front of me.

"My name's Alexandria, but my friends call me Allie! You can call me Allie, even if you don't want to be my friend."

I was shocked by how well she spoke for her age. I crouched down and shook her hand. "I'd love to be your friend, Allie. I'm Kate."

The boy let go of Adam's leg. "Dad's friend is named Kate. Are you friends with her?"

"Just because they have the same name doesn't mean they're friends," Braxton said. "Kate, meet the twins. Bartholomew and Alexandria."

"Barry!" the boy said. "My name's Barry."

"That's your nickname. When meeting someone for the first time, you should tell them your full name."