The nanny Diaries

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

THE NANNY DIARIES

James holds the door open as I pass. "Happy New Year, Nanny. What're you doin' back so soon?" He seems surprised to see me.

Mrs. X needs her humidifier filled," I say.

"Oh, does she now?" He gives me a wicked grin.

The first thing I notice when I open the Xes' front door is that the heat is actually on. I step slowly into the silence, feeling a bit like a thief.

I am just slipping my arms out of my coat when Ella Fitzgerald's "Miss Otis Regrets" comes blaring out of the stereo system.

I freeze. "Hello?" I call.

I clutch my backpack and follow the wall into the kitchen, hoping to grab a knife.

I've heard about doormen in buildings like this using the apartments when the tenants at each away. I swing open the kitchen door.

There's an open bottle of Dom Pérignon on the counter, pots are bubbling on the stove. What kind of sick person steals into an apartment to cook?

"It's not ready yet. Ce n'est pas fini," a man says in a thick French accent as he emerges from the maid's bathroom drying his hands on his checked trousers and adjusting his white chef's coat.

"Who are you?" I ask over the music, taking a step backward toward the door. He looks up.

"Qui est vous?" he asks, putting his hands on his hips.

"Um, I work here. Who are you?"

"Je m'appelle Pierre. Your mistress hired me to faire le dîner." He returns to chopping fennel.

The kitchen is a phantasm of productivity and delicious aromas. It's never looked so happy.

"Why you stand there like a fish? Go." He waved his knife at me.

I leave the kitchen to go find Mrs. X.

I cannot believe she's back. Of course, why bother to call Nanny? Ooh no, it's not like I have anything better to do than keep her oil paintings moist.

Oh, oh, I am definitely not working tonight if that's her game. It's probably just one, big ruse to get me to work.

She probably got Grayer tied up in a net over the humidifier and is planning to drop him on my head the minute I pour the water in.

"SHE RAN TO THE MAN WHO HAD LED HER SO FAR ADTRAY," the stereo blares, following me from room to room.

"Well, fine. I'll just let her know I came by like I said I would and then I'm out of here.

"Hello?" I practically leap right out of my skin. There she is, strutting out of the bedroom, a silk kimono tied carelessly at her waist, her emerald earrings sparkling in the hall light. My heart jumps to my throat.

It's Ms. Chicago.

"Hi," she says, as friendly as she was in the conference room three weeks ago. She glides past me, out toward the dinning room.

"Hi," I say, scampering behind her, untying my scarf.

I round the corner just as she throws open the French doors onto the dinning room, revealing a table set for a romantic dinner for two.

A huge bouquet of peonies, the purply black of squid ink, sits among a ring of glowing votives. She leans across the gleaming mahogany to straighten the silverware.

"I'm just here for the humidifiers!" I call out over the stereo.

"Wait," she says, going over to the hidden control panel in the bookcase and expertly adjusting the volume, tone, and bass.

"There." She turns to me, smiling placidly. "What were you saying?"

"The humidifiers? Are, um, dry? They run out of . . . water? And the pictures, well, they can really, uh, suffer? If they're dry? I was just supposed to water them. Only once. Just now, today, 'cause that should last them till . . . Okay! So, I'll just do that, then."

"Well, thank you, Nanny. I'm sure Mr. X appreciates that, and I do, too." She retrieves her errant glass of champagne from the sideboard. I kneel and unplug the humidifier from the floor.

"Okay, then," I grunt, heaving the machine into my arms and letting myself out into the kitchen.

I refill all ten tanks, schlepping them back and forth to the laundry room, while Ella keeps right on trucking from "It Was Just One of Those Things," through "Why Can't You Behave?" and "I'm Always True to You, Darlin' , in My Fashion."

My mind is reeling. This is not her house. This is not her family. And that most definitely was not her bedroom that she came out of.

"Are you done yet?" she asks as I plug in the last one. "Because I was wondering if you could run to the shop for me."

She follows me to the door as I grab my coat. "Pierre forgot to get heavy cream. Thanks." She hands me a twenty as I open the door.

I look down at the money and then at Grayer's little frog umbrella in the stand, the one that has two big frog eyes that pop up when he opens it.

I hold the money out to her. "I can't ---- I have, um, an appointment, a doctor thing." I catch a glimpse of myself in the glitter mirror. "Actually . . . I just can't."

Her smile strains. "Keep it, then," she says evenly. The elevator door opens, while she attempts to look casual leaning against the door frame.

I put the bill down on the hall table.

Her eyes flash. "Look, Nanny, is it? You run home and tell your boss that you found me here and all you'll be doing is saving me the trouble of leaving behind a pair of panties."

She steps back into the apartment, letting the door slam shut behind her.

°°°°

Holy Moly, that was hot... What should Nanny do? Should she tell Mrs. X or not? Thoughts??

Sorry for the short chapter 😥

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