Page 29 of Buckin' Around

Fuck.

Honestly, if they were, it would be on the end of a tongue lashing from someone’s old man. Notmebeing someone’s old man. Christ.

I clear my throat.

“What makes you think I haven’t found someone, or that I even need help?”

Her brows fall. “You’ve already found someone, then?”

“I—”

“Look, I don’t want to waste anyone’s time. But if you need a babysitter or whatever, I need the work. I have years of experience with babies and kids. I practically raised?—”

I hold up a hand.

“How will you attend class and look after Ivy?”

Riley’s eyes widen in time for her face to soften.

“Last time I checked, the postgrad MBA was in person.” Now my brows crash.

“It is, but I can work for you whenever I’m not at school. Night, weekends, etc. Before and after my classes.” She looks uncomfortable, like this is actually the last thing on earth she wants to do.

“That’s a lot of traveling back and forth from the campus.”

“I know, but without the income, I have to go home.”

“Home?”

Her face twitches like she wants to roll her eyes at me but holds back. “Back to Ireland.”

“Okay, but I need alive-innanny, Riley. I can’t be up all night and working during the day. Last night was?—”

“You won’t be. I’ll do it.”

She grips her tote bag’s handle, setting her shoulders back as if steeling herself for the idea. “That would be a full-time paying gig, right?”

“Sure.”

What the hell, I can afford it, and I really do need the help. I’m dead on my feet today. I can only imagine what it would be like after weeks of baby life.

“I would have to have my own room. And Ivy—pretty name, by the way—needs her own, too. I can’t be in your room taking care of her.”

“Okay . . .”

“And one last thing. I require payment in advance to cover my living expenses and tuition, at least the next three months.”

I shift on my feet.

I’m not worried about the money, as such, but will she even stick it out for three months? I guess I have to take the chance. God knows I’m fucking desperate. I need her to stick it out.

“Take it or leave it, Spencer. If it doesn’t suit, I’ll find something else.”

My phone buzzes and a message covers my screen.

Stacey.

Spence, you’re going to need a live-in nanny, and you can’t take her to work. Because obviously, this can’t get back to Mom and Dad.