George, a struggling wall street nanny, has come to a roadblock as his latest family leaves him in the dust. While trying to cover the New York rent with his roommate, a hopeful NFL football draftee, he works odd nannying jobs throughout the city. A...
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Take it now or leave it. Now is all we get Voulez-Vous ABBA ♡
There were several reasons why George avoided drinking, and most of the options were health related. One of the other various benefits meant he wouldn't wake up on the other side of the city with a stranger. The extreme heat was the initial reason he opened his eyes to the daylight brushing dawn, the other was the incessant buzzing coming from the side table with far too many empty water bottles on it. His low hum turned into a dissuaded grunt as he shoved the shirtless man off of him to grab at the table.
"What?" Cold sobriety came quicker than the guy next to him did the night before, and that was only a few seconds. "Quackity? Yes, sir."
"You sound half asleep. I've been calling you for an hour. You better have your ass ready for this interview in fifteen minutes."
"Yeah," George nodded then started to scramble. "Did you say fifteen minutes? Quackity, I'm thirty minutes out from-"
"Well, I'd start running if I were you. I told him you're never late. And I'm not calling a cab since you went behind my back on this one."
With one leg shimming into his day old jeans, George pressed his phone into the crook of his neck and shoulder, "The child found me at his game. His Dad offered me the job. I said he'd have to speak with you about it."
The man on the phone grumbled incoherently, thus giving George enough time to steal a new shirt from the sleeping stranger since his was soaked through with alcohol the night before. He'd convinced himself the last time this happened, one night stands, became no longer worth it. But, like everyone else, sometimes his loneliness got the better of him. Mostly when he'd had more than two drinks.
"Well, it's your lawsuit." Quackity yelled off into the distance as George searched for his keys under mistakes and mismatched socks. "I'll let him know you'll be thirty minutes later, and please for the love of Nannies, look professional. You reflect bad on the company if you don't."
George caught a glimpse of his flushed cheeks, wrought hair, small hickey on his neck, and non ironed clothes before replying confidently.
"Of course."
The pretty stranger latched onto his hips in a sluggish grasp, kissing against his neck in little feather light touches. George rolled his eyes and pushed him off.
Undeterred the stranger begged, "Call me?"
George slammed the door in his face and waved a cab down as fast as he could. He hadn't found anyone worth calling back and part of him believed it was for the better.
♡
Professional was no longer in his description when George walked up to a very familiar building. Courtesy of Manhattan's weather, his clothes clung cold to his skin from a surprise rain, and the tips of brown hair dripped unceremoniously onto his cheekbones.
