Taja Wilson doesn't belong on a yacht in the South of France. She's not supposed to be a nanny. And she's definitely not supposed to fall for her hot, brooding, single-dad boss. But even if she can resist Micheal's growling accent, his sweet daughte...
(From the plane, to the train, to this yacht... today has been a lot.) I finish unpacking my suitcase in my cabin and lay down for a nap. (Not sure I'll be able to sleep, knowing that Micheal's room is only a few feet away.) But I quickly fall into a dream- a nightmare that you are trapped in a tiny, rocking room. "No. No!" I thrash, but my arms and legs are constricted. Panic sets in. I can't breathe. "Taja? Taja!" My eyes open. Micheal leans over me, a worried expression on his face. "Ms. Wilson, are you all right?" "I'm... glad you came." Micheal sighs in relief. "I'm glad I was nearby." (one benefit to my room is being close to his.) My breathing slow as I realize what just happened. (ever since my father passed when I was a child, I suffered from night terrors every so often.) " Nothing to worry about. It's just a minor nightmare." "Well, I'm glad I checked on you."
"About that... I'm sorry for the trouble. Next time, you'll know it's just a silly dream, and you won't have to come." Micheal shakes his head. "It was no trouble. And I do not think your dreams are silly. Now, we should get you some lunch before you take Zoe for a swim. Come." I nod, still a little groggy, and follow him to the kitchen, where Elijah sits with a tall, athletic woman over a plate of croque monsieur.
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"Look, who's up! Taja, this is Angèle." Micheal gestured towards her. "She'll be your first point of contact for anything regarding the ship. "And your friend. Us girls got a stick together." I giggle. "Amen to that." Micheal notices something off. "Where's Roland? He usually eats with you." "He's having a rough day. Eating in his cabin."
I look around in confusion. "Who's Roland? And is he okay?" Elijah nods. "Roland's sort of my apprentice. Good kid from my old neighborhood in London, but had a rough go of it. Micheal was kind enough to give Roland a job and a second chance." Angèle nods. "And you, Ms.Wilson. I hear this is your first time nannying. Tell me, what did you do in the States?" "I'm a Fashion/Makeup designer." "And now, you're... on a break?" I shake my head in disappointment. "I actually quit my job. I love my work, but the company culture was too toxic." Angèle smiles at me sheepishly and gives me an uncomfortable laugh. "You're a bit overqualified for this, no?" Elijah chuckles. "That is, you're not used to slumming it with us working-class folk."
Micheal scoffs jokingly. "Are you calling my ship a slum?" "Obviously not, Mich. We're just wondering if Taja here might be a bit above this service job." "Above it? Above taking care of my daughter?" I squirm as Angèle, Elijah, and Micheal all turn to me. (Yikes. I don't want to piss off my one female friend on this boat... and I definitely don't want to upset Micheal.) Then Micheal steps to my side and places a warm, steadying hand on my shoulder. "Surely you don't feel this way, Taja?" "No, I feel like I'm exactly where I belong." I take a bite of the crunchy, warm croque monsieur to underscore my comfort.
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