Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 60131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
“Whenever I get a break from your children, I will do that.” I narrowed my eyes. “Oh, wait. I haven’t had an off day since my last one. Do you remember it, by chance?”
He looked like he was about to explode.
Prying his fingers from the counter, he looked me up and down before walking away.
I pressed a hand against my chest, attempting to calm my racing heart.
I forgive you for still liking him. You’ll get over him soon enough, though.
Before I could pull out a game for the twins, Miss Banks, the kitchen manager, waltzed toward the granite island with her usual brown bags.
“I’m here with today’s breakfast!” She announced.
“I have organic, stone pound grits and oats for the sweet babies,” she said, setting out the containers, “with complementing celery and apple juice puree.”
“They haven’t been drinking the puree lately,” I said. “They don’t like it.”
“For his beautiful niece,” she continued without skipping a beat, “I have coconut flour pancakes with mango syrup and a flavorful protein shake.”
“I can guarantee she won’t eat that,” I said. “She doesn’t have any allergies, so is there a reason her food is on the Paleo and keto spectrums?”
“What do you know about spectrums?”
“A lot.”
“Well—” She crossed her arms. “I’ve been managing the pantries and meal deliveries at Mr. Dawson’s properties for years. I doubt your definition of ‘a lot’ amounts to much.”
“I’m not trying to offend you,” I said. “I’m simply letting you know what the kids aren’t enjoying. I won’t force them to eat what they don’t like, and I can give you a list of foods that might be better for them.”
“Stay in your lane, Nanny.” She slammed down the utensils. “The menus for Mr. Dawson’s children are prepared weeks in advance, with the help of myself, a world-renowned nutritionist, and a chef who has literally cooked for royalty. Have you ever cooked for royalty?”
“No, not yet.”
“Then I don’t think any of the culinary team members should care what you think.” She shrugged. “Serve everything per my instructions, and I’ll return with the twins’ lunch a little after one o’clock.”
The moment she left, I offered a spoonful of oats to William.
He spat it up in disgust.
Then he grimaced and held his stomach.
“No, wait.” I held up my hands as he grunted, knowing what was coming. “Can you hold your poo in a little while longer? Maybe two minutes? I forgot to put you in a thicker—”
A fresh load of green slosh sludged through his diaper onto the floor.
“Dahhhh!” He laughed. “Dahhh!”
He looked like he was waiting for applause, like I’d just witnessed him shit out a Picasso.
Holding my breath, I carried him to the sink.
Charlotte crawled over to us, and I noticed her diaper was soiled green, too.
“Okay, that’s it.” I pulled out my phone. “We’re getting disposable diapers today.”
TWENTY-TWO (B)
HARLOW
Later that evening
“Mama called the doctor, and the doctor said, No more monkeys jumping on the bed!” I sang.
William giggled against my shoulder while Charlotte snored in my lap.
“Let’s try a softer story.” I reached under the books and grabbed the folded sheet I’d placed there weeks ago. “My Daddy is a Big Mean Bastard by Anonymous.”
I cleared my throat. “Once upon a time, there was a big mean bastard who believed he controlled all of Manhattan. That man was my daddy.”
“He walked around with his big ole’ watch, and acted like he was in charge of all the clocks.”
“He huffed and puffed until he got his way, but he had a stick up his ass, so he couldn’t walk straight.”
“Wait a minute.” I paused. “Do you think I can rhyme ‘way’ with ‘straight’ for this story? Is that okay?”
William answered by shutting his eyes.
“Okay, I’ll work on it and read you my next draft tomorrow.”
I moved him and Charlotte onto their fluffy floor mats. Then I turned on some soft rain sounds and leaned against the wall.
I tried to shut my eyes, but I heard soft footsteps in the hallway.
Olivia? “Is that you, Olivia?” I asked.
“Yeah.” She stepped into the nursery. “It’s me.”
“Something wrong?”
“I have a question.”
“Okay.” I sat up. “I’m listening.”
“Can you read with me next?”
“Yeah, of course.” I patted the spot next to me, and she brought a copy of Harry Potter.
“You don’t have to act out the voices like you do with the twins.” She looked sheepish. “I mean, unless you want to.”
“I want to.”I took the book.
“I’m not sure if I like you yet, Miss Hawthorne,” she said, leaning against my shoulder, “but I’ve decided that you don’t suck ass anymore.”
I held back a laugh and flipped to chapter one. “Thank you very much, Olivia.”
TWENTY-THREE
PIERCE
Subject: URGENT. OLIVIA.
Mr. Dawson,
I am sending this email because my secretary could not reach you on your phone.
We need you to pick up Olivia from school as soon as possible.
She’s facing a severe disciplinary suspension.