Page 4 of Trouble from Abroad
When April said she had the perfect person to come help me with Lily, the only question I asked was, “Do you trust her?”
That seemed more than enough at the time.
Now, I regret not asking for a full resume, a list of references, and… well, a fucking photograph too. Aren’t nannies supposed to be old and unattractive? Not that I’d be interested in this woman—or in any other woman, for that matter—after my pregnant wife up and left me with what I thought was my second child.
My mistake. It was her lover’s.Silly me.
Left meandour daughter Lily behind. A kid too smart to believe her mom is still on vacation, but way too sensitive to go through this unscathed.
For the first few weeks, I drowned reality in liquor. I couldn’t deal with my failure. People had always defined me as successful, and now? Now I didn’t know who I was anymore. I couldn’t make peace with how blind I must have been to miss all the signs.
Facing my shortcomings hurt too much, so I numbed that pain with alcohol. Dug a hole for myself and stayed there, feeling sorry for my stupid self.
Eventually, I delegated raising my daughter to my neighbor. Called in sick at work. Canceled surgeries.
I only asked for help when said neighbor broke into my house after I didn’t call to check on my daughter for two days straight and found me passed out next to a pool of my own vomit.
Luckily, we’ve known each other long enough for her to know that particular, very low moment in my life didn’t define me. But she still threatened to call Child Protective Services if I didn’t clean up my act fast.
That was the day I called April and begged her to come back home. It should’ve pained me to rob her of an incredible work opportunity in London. But I was past feeling anything. No guilt, remorse, or shame. I was a walking corpse, stripped down to function. Even in that dark hole, I knew I only had two things left in my life that mattered,and I’d lose the most important one if I didn’t reach out for help.
But if I was gonna take time off work and earn being called Dad by my amazing daughter, I was gonna need April back here to take over for me. There’s no one else I’d trust to hold my position as head of orthopedics.
So it was only natural I also trusted her when she said she found the right person, someone she knew personally, who would be a great fit for us.
Turns out, no woman can be trusted.
Because Mia doesn’t look right at all. The second I laid eyes on her, I knew it—she’s going to bring trouble into my life. The knock-you-off-axis kind that turns rational thought into wishful thinking.
She’s a walking, talking red flag. If, of course, flags had a pair of thick legs and an ass that’s putting those pants to the test. Jesus Christ, I’m staring, and that’s not right.
Preston, have some decency and stop checking her out.
She commands the room as she steps into my house, or maybe it’s just my brain misfiring in her wake. Her curves fill tailored burned-orange pants, the matching jacket doing nothing to hide the temptation beneath. Her skin glows with that warm flush that makes her look fresh off a beach shoot—not out of a flight from gray and rainy London.
Her wide hips sway in a rhythm that could drive a man to madness if he looks too long. God help me, because I do.
Her hair is a mass of dark curls, wild in that ‘accidental sex hair’ kind of way. And her face—Jesus—those full lips curve, amused, in on a joke I’m too disturbed to get.
Mia’s a head smaller than me, far from dainty. She’sfeminine, but not delicate. Her smile is shy, but her presence is loud. A walking contradiction, I have no business deciphering.
She’s your employee. Forbidden fruit. Eyes up, Jett.
I'm not one to waste time on things I can’t control, but now I’m questioning everything I’ve just signed up for.
She walks past me, only to come to a sudden halt, and pivots, her long curls slapping me right in the face. I flinch, both at the whip and the scent that assaults my nostrils—citrus and honey—something that could burn and heal in the same breath. It feels like a warning.
“My bags,” she yelps. She’s clumsily trying to carry another two up the steps by the time I shake off the paralyzing effects of the smell of her shampoo.
“Here, let me help you,” I offer, remembering my manners, and have her suitcases inside my house before she finds her next footing on the steps.
“Sorry about the mess.” I pull a cloth from my back pocket to dry my hands, but the thing is so damp, it’s not much help. “I thought I could handle fixing my bathroom. Funny thing is, as a plumber, I’m a great surgeon.”
It’s a joke. A bad one, but I’m a dad, so I’m allowed those. I get nothing from her.Nada.When I opened the door, Mia was all sunshine and smiles. The minute I introduced myself, she turned somber and uncomfortable.
Is shethatdisappointed with me? At first sight?Wow, that’s a new low, Jett. You’ve really let yourself go, old man.
I don’t care; I lie to placate my shattered ego. She’s the new nanny, here to take care of the house and my kid. It doesn’t matter what she thinks of me.
