Fool Me Once, Fool Me Twice

Silent, Soothing, Beautiful

"Yes, Mr Kardell." I nod, hating the way that he calls me 'The Nanny', but I guess I better get used to it.

"Please, call me Oliver." He smiles, "Come on, I'll introduce you to the family." I follow him through another door to the kitchen and out into the yard. The weather is warm, far too warm for early March, but I'm not complaining. Oliver's family is sat around a small white table under a gazebo in the centre of the yard. We walk into the shade of the gazebo and the temperature drops, kind of ironic really. 

There is a blond woman that is curvy, but by no means fat, sitting at the head of the table. She looks around forty, maybe a little older, but definitely much younger then Oliver.

"My wife, Elizabeth." Oliver gestures to the woman, "Elizabeth, this is Jenny Pierce. She's the nanny." There he goes again with that word.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Kardell." I nod and smile politely.

"Likewise." She replies in a clearly Texan accent, a great contrast to the smooth British accent of her husband. The older woman at the table is introduced as Oliver's mother, Matilda, and I can see in her eyes that she disapproves of me.

"You want to watch this one, Elizabeth." Her accent is so stong that it's almost comical. "She's far too pretty for her own good. She'll have her way with my son, just you wait and see." Matilda stands up and marches sraight for the house, throwing me several dirty looks as she goes.

"Don't mind her." Oliver laughs, "She's bitter and thinks that anyone under thirty is trying to steal me away from my wife." I shrug it off, saying she's entitled to an opinion of me and Oliver suggests meeting the children.

"Claire, Allison, could you come here?" He calls across the yard to two fair haired girls playing with a soccer ball. The older of the two picks up the ball and come running over, the younger close at her heels.

"This is Claire," Oliver gestures to the older girl, "She's six. And this is Allison, she's four."

"Allie." Allison says, tiny lines forming between her eyebrows.

"What?" I ask, smiling at her in the nicest way I can. I'm not really a huge fan of children.

"Allie, not Allison." She insists. Not that I blame her, Allison is not my favourite name in the world.

These kids seem okay, as far as kids go. They both have golden blond hair that falls in ringlets and their accents make everything they say sound a hundred times cuter. 

"Would you like to see my room?" Allison grins, taking hold of my hand and leading me to the house, not really giving me a choice

I give a small wave over my shoulder to Oliver and Elizabeth, who look pleased that Allie has taken to me so quickly. Allie pulls harder on my hand and begins to run through the house, the sudden change in speed almost causes me to fall flat on my face. 

The girls' room is the room next to mine, in case they need me in the night, I guess. The walls are a pastel pink and this room has the same big windows as the rest of the house. It's almost twice the size of my room, and my room isn't small. The two beds are identical, they even have the same sheets, but Allie is certain that her bed is bigger than Claire's. 

"And these are my toys, and these are Claire's toys, and this is my lamp, and this is Claire's lamp." Allie makes sure to tell me who every item in the room belongs to.

"Allison!" I hear someone call from down the hall and Allie goes running without hesitation. I follow her slowly out of the room, but before I make it out the door is slammed shut. I pause, taken aback slightly. As I start towards the door again I hear a click and rattling sound that is painfully familiar. The sound of the lock on my bedroom when I was a Fledgling. I have been locked in. 

"Hello?" I shout and begin pounding on the door. "Is anybody there?" I've always hated being locked in, and that's why they did it at Skyline. When I needed punishment, they wouldn't take my meals for a day or send me to 'shock therapy' like they did with all the other Fledglings, instead they would lock me in my room. My breathing quickens and my palms are becoming slick with sweat.

"Somebody! Open the door!" I cry out banging on the door as hard as I can, turning the handle and pushing to try and get out. The room is beginning to spin. My claustrophobia has always been my biggest weakness, and it has started to become a curse. This room isn't even small, but I don't want to be locked in so it's like I'm in a box. I push harder and harder on the door. Then it's open. I fall straight into whoever opened it and we tumble to the floor. 

My rescuer is a man, that much I can tell, but I can't yet move. I lay my head against his chest and try to slow my breathing and steady to the spinning. I am grateful that he has wrapped his arms around me and is rubbing my back, calming me with his warm hands. We lay this way for a few minutes before I roll myself off of him. I try to stand, but need his help to stay upright.

"Come on, I'll get you some water." He takes my hand and leads me somewhere, I can't really see through the tears in my eyes. he guides me down to sit on a bed and crosses the room to a cupboard. From the cupboard he pulls a bottle of water which he opens and hands to me.

"I'm sorry about that." I smile shakily, wiping the tears out my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater. I look up at him and can't say another word. This man is beautiful. His messy brown hair , grayish green eyes and a perfect layer of stubble framing his chin and the top of his neck are all beautiful. He is perfect.

"No problem, I'm sorry I didn't hear you sooner." I snap out of my trance as I hear him speak, really hearing him. His voice is silky and sexy, only made better by the amazing way that the words sound in his accent. Yeah, Oliver has the same accent, but on this man it sounds so much better. 

"I'm Nate." He holds his hand out and I shake it clumsily.

"Nate? Your mom picked that, right? Sounds way too American." I don't usually blurt my thoughts out that way, I'm not sure what's gotten into me.

"No, my dad picked. It's really Nathaniel." 

"Wow. What a name." I giggle. Giggling, really? What is wrong with me? "I'm Jenny. I'm the new nanny."

"How old are you?" The question is so abrupt that I answer without thinking.

"Twenty o-" I pause and cough, "Twenty three."

"Oh. Then it was probably my Grandma that locked you in." He nods his head with an apologetic expression.

"Yeah, your dad warned me about her."

"Why did you freak out so badly? You could have knocked on the window. Everybody's in the garden." The garden. He sounds so cute when he says that.

"I, uh, I guess I just didn't think about that. I'm claustrophobic. Really claustrophobic." I admit and I can feel the blood rising in my cheeks.

"I see." He reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me off the bed. "Come on, I'll take you back out to the girls." His hand is soft and warm and much bigger than mine. The feel of his hand around mine makes me feel safe and calm; I could stay holding on to him forever.