Page 63 of His Surrender

“I’ve seen you around before,” he says. “You live here?”

I nod toward the high-rise behind us. “Yeah.”

His eyebrows lift. “No kidding? Me too.” He extends his hand. “Jeremy.”

“Aubrey.”

“It’s nice to officially meet you.”

I shake his hand. “You too.”

He nods toward the building. “What floor?”

“Oh …” I smile awkwardly. “The penthouse.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “The penthouse?”

“I know how that sounds.”

He laughs. “I was going to say … either you’re doing incredibly well for yourself or there’s a story there.”

“There is.”

His grin grows. “I was hoping there might be. I know who lives up there.”

I laugh for what feels like the first time all day. “There definitely is a story.”

He slips both hands into his pockets. “So … what’s the story?”

“I’m a live-in nanny.”

Realization washes across his face. He glances toward the building again.

“That’s got to be one of the coolest places to live in Manhattan.”

I can’t argue with that. “It does have its perks.”

He nods once before taking a small step backward. “Well”—he smiles again— “I’m glad we finally bumped into each other.”

A tiny laugh escapes me. “Literally.”

“Exactly.” He points toward the entrance. “I hope I run into you again.”

“I’ll probably be around.”

“Good.”

With one last smile, he turns and heads toward the building, leaving me standing on the sidewalk, watching him disappear inside.

He was nice. Really nice actually. And objectively … very attractive.

So, why does my mind immediately wander back to a blue-eyed billionaire who barely looked at me over coffee this morning?

I sigh.

Apparently, I have terrible taste in men.

By the time I make it back upstairs, the apartment is still empty.