The Nanny Proposal. Donna Clayton
Читать онлайн книгу.
Ever since Pricilla showed up on his doorstep with Joy, he’d been beating himself up for taking women for granted. It was this transformation in his thinking that had him so…mesmerized. So intrigued by Jane Dale and whatever was so obviously bothering her. That’s what was behind this discombobulated reaction he was experiencing.
“I’d like to be able to say that I have a teaching certificate,” she told him. “Or that I’m certified as a nurse. Or trained as a photographer.” She sighed. “But my only claim to fame is that I’m pretty good at slinging hash.”
Jane Dale had a sense of humor. Greg grinned. He liked the woman.
He found himself murmuring, “It’s too bad you’re not a Mary Poppins type.”
She went utterly still. “I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, you know, a governess. An au pair. A nanny.” Absently, Greg reached up and rubbed his fingers over his day’s growth of beard and thought about just how badly he needed help at home with Joy. “If you had experience with children, I just might have a job for you.”
Hell, he couldn’t say why he’d make such an offer. He didn’t even know this woman. But thoughts of Joy, of the sleepless nights he’d had, of the seemingly endless piles of baby clothes waiting at home to be laundered, added with Rachel’s complaint just a few minutes ago that she was an office manager and not a baby-sitter…all these things had him speaking before he really had time to think about what he was saying. Jane was a nice woman. A healthy woman. He’d just checked that out, hadn’t he? He smiled to himself. And he liked her. Besides that, she needed a job.
“Oh? You need someone…”
He chuckled. “But, of course, being a waitress, you’re not going to be interested in changing diapers and finding ways to make a baby girl eat strained peas.”
“A-a b-baby girl?”
Greg nodded. “I have a brand-new baby.” Then he said, “Well, not brand-new. Joy is ten months old. She’s cute as a button. And best of all, she’s got my dimples.” He smiled big and pointed to his cheeks.
Okay, so he was a proud daddy. Jane Dale would just have to understand.
“Y-you need a sitter?”
“Actually, I was thinking of live-in help. Like a—” he shrugged “—a nanny. But you probably wouldn’t be interested, seeing as how your experience is in food services.”
“Wait.” Her voice sounded small, almost uncertain. “I do have experience with children. I, um, I just came from living with my sister. She’s got a baby. And I handled, well, I handled most all of the child care. When I wasn’t working at my job at the restaurant, that is.”
Greg was amazed that she would even consider his suggestion. He hadn’t really expected anything to come of the offer.
“Wow. This is great.” He moistened his lips, reality sinking in. “Could I meet her? Your sister, I mean? Or could you at least supply some kind of…” He felt like a heel for asking, but couldn’t help himself. This was his daughter they were talking about. “Um, letter of recommendation?”
“Sure.”
He watched her throat convulse with what looked like a nervous swallow. Apprehension fairly pulsed from her. A blaring hint of just how badly she must need a job.
“I’ll get my sister to write a glowing recommendation. And—and I’ll even get her to stop in the next time she’s down this way.”
She frowned and nibbled on her bottom lip, and Greg had to drag his gaze from her mouth.
“Would that be sufficient?” she asked.
Something made him pause. He was rushing into this. And maybe he shouldn’t be. But for the first time since he’d come into the room and made this woman’s acquaintance, the shadows cleared from her gaze.
He’d lifted the worry from her shoulders. That made him feel pretty darned good, even if he did say so himself.
His head bobbed and he grinned at her. “That will be great.” He shook her hand, then caught her attention with raised brows. “Do you have any qualms about starting immediately? As in, this very second?”
Chapter Two
“You did what?”
Radcliff, the older of Greg’s two partners, stared at Greg, disbelief and disapproval darkening his countenance like a storm cloud.
Greg leaned his elbows on the counter of the office’s waiting room. All the patients were gone, the staff, too, and the partners had just happened to meet up at the end of this long day.
“I hired a nanny for Joy. What’s so bad about that?”
With his brows raised high, Sloan continued to censure Greg’s actions with a small shake of his head.
Travis Westcott, Greg’s other partner, stood just behind Sloan and obviously couldn’t find the words to even respond to this surprising turn of events.
“This woman might have made a good impression on you this morning, Greg,” Sloan said. “But she’s still a stranger. You know nothing about her. And you’re trusting her to care for your baby girl.”
Greg couldn’t tell if this last sentence was a statement or a question. And the doubt his friend tossed out affected him mightily. Maybe he had jumped into this too quickly.
The manner in which he’d become a father—so out of the blue—had Greg leaning on his buddies a great deal this past week. And Sloan and Travis had come through for him with plenty of advice and support. He respected their opinions. And it was clear that Sloan didn’t think very highly of his decision to hire Jane on the spot this morning.
“Well, I was pretty desperate for some help,” Greg said, knowing his words made him sound defensive. Why shouldn’t they? He was on the defensive. “You should have seen Joy’s eyes light up at the sight of Jane. It was like they were old friends or something. Joy took to Jane like a duck to water. It was amazing, I tell you.”
He shifted his weight onto the other foot. “I stopped in at the house unannounced today at lunch. And Jane was doing great with Joy. They were playing with blocks. Making little stacks and knocking them down in the middle of the living room floor. And Jane had already dived into that mountain of laundry. And the kitchen sink was free of dirty dishes for the first time all week. The beds were made. The toys picked up. And she’d done all this in just a couple of hours. When I get home, I just may discover that she’s given the whole apartment complex an overhaul.” His hollow laughter died quickly when his friends didn’t join in. His brow wrinkled in a pitiful frown. “Look, guys, I need the woman. I need her help. Try to understand.”
Travis and Sloan just looked at him, and Greg surrendered to the welling urge to try again to convince his friends that what he was doing was the right thing for him and his daughter.
“Look,” he said passionately, “you guys know that I was happy to take Joy from Pricilla. I want to be responsible for my actions. And I have every intention of being a good father to my daughter for the rest of my life.”
The stern-lipped disapproval on the other men’s faces softened.
“But single parents can’t do it alone,” he continued. “Sloan, as the father of triplets, you should know that. You get a sitter for the girls once every couple of weeks. You go out. You have a good time. And you have a housekeeper, too, to help you with the cooking and cleaning. I can’t do this alone.”
Greg hated the accusatory tone he used. He hated throwing up into Sloan’s face any fun the man might have. Sloan, the father of nearly teen triplet girls, was a widower—a widower who was still grieving almost two years after losing his wife. But Greg was being bested by the desperation he felt to make his friends comprehend his plight.
“Yes,”