Four: Pierce

FOUR

PIERCE

W hat the hell just happened?

I waited until Harlow Hawthorne was tucked away in a descending elevator before walking away from the front door.

The pink box she’d left behind had to be a bribe of some sort, but I couldn’t help opening it.

A dozen pink and blue unicorn cupcakes.

Thanks to Olivia’s weekly order of sweets, I’d learned a bit about what made a perfect custom cupcake, and these were easily the best I’d ever seen.

With creamy layers of tinged frosting and glitter, and the little handcrafted horn things, she probably thought these would win over my children. Hell, she probably spent fifty dollars each on these, but she was an automatic no.

Hell no.

All I could think about was her wrapping her pink pumps around my waist, splaying her against my desk, and making her scream my name at the top of her lungs.

And that was before she came upstairs for the official interview.

Between her long wavy blond hair, pouty pink lips that seemed to never stop moving, and her beautiful almond eyes, she was the sexiest woman I’d ever seen.

But the last thing I needed was a live-in temptation .

I’d hired six nannies so far, and not a single one lasted more than a week. Despite trying multiple hiring agencies, I couldn’t find the right fit.

To make matters worse, with all the turnover, I couldn’t handle working from home; that shit didn’t work for me.

The twins refused to sleep at the same time, their poop had ruined ten of my best suits, and their feeding schedules hadn’t been in sync since the day I brought them home.

Walking to their nursery, I peered through the door and saw my adoptive mother—Mama Raya—rocking Charlotte in a chair while William giggled at her feet.

I’d begged her to stay here in New York and serve as my nanny—even offered to buy her a new condo, but she declined by laughing in my face.

“I’m done raising children,” she’d said. “I’m living my best retired life now.”

“Uncle Brooks?” Olivia moved next to me, her mouth full of unicorn cupcake crumbs.

“Yes?”

“Can I go up to the roof and read for a while?”

“Of course.” I nodded. “Wait a minute. I thought your mom was picking you up today?”

“She was, but she got a new audition. It’s for a soap opera.”

“Does she know that she’s missed over a year of your life?”

“You’re embellishing things.” She smiled. “She’s come here to visit me plenty of times.”

Yet, she still leaves you here.

“I’ll be on the roof.” She disappeared.

Not wanting to give the agency a chance to ask for my thoughts on Harlow, I called them first.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Dawson!” the advisor answered. “Excited to tell me you’ve found your match?”

“No. I don’t want Miss Hawthorne anywhere near my house again.”

“Was she that terrible?”

“She’s the worst one you’ve sent so far.”

“I am beyond sorry, Mr. Dawson,” she said. “If it’s any consolation, the next potential nanny is the complete opposite.”

“How so?”

“Well, she’s seventy-nine years old and she’s a former kindergarten teacher. There’s only one thing that may give you a slight pause in hiring her, though.”

“What is it?”

“She can only see out of one eye.”

“She sounds absolutely perfect,” I said. “Send her over.”