Out of Hours...Enticing the Nanny: The Nanny and the CEO / Nanny to the Billionaire's Son / Not Just the Nanny. Rebecca Winters
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“MS. CHAMBERLAIN? You’re next. Second door on the left.”
“Thank you.”
Reese got up from the chair and walked past the woman at the front desk to reach the hall. At ten o’clock in the morning, the East 59th Street Employment Agency in New York’s east side was already packed with people needing a job. She’d asked around and had learned it was one of the most reputable agencies in the city. The place reminded her of her dentist’s office filled with patients back home in Nebraska.
She had no idea what one wore for an interview to be a nanny. After changing outfits several times she’d opted for a yellow tailored, short-sleeved blouse and skirt, the kind she’d worn to the initial interview on Wednesday. This was her only callback in three days. If she didn’t get hired today, she would have to fly home tomorrow, the last thing she wanted to do.
Her father owned a lumberyard and could always give her a job if she couldn’t find anything that suited her, but it wouldn’t pay her the kind of money she needed. Worse, she didn’t relish the idea of seeing Jeremy again, but it would be inevitable because her ex-fiancé happened to work as a loan officer at the bank where her dad did business. Word would get around she was back.
“Come in, Ms. Chamberlain.”
“Hello, again, Mr. Lloyd.” He was the man who’d taken her initial application.
“Let me introduce you to Mrs. Tribe. She’s the private secretary to a Mr. Nicholas Wainwright here in New York and has been looking for the right nanny for her employer. I’ll leave you two alone for a few minutes.”
The smart-looking brunette woman wearing a professional business suit was probably in her early fifties. “Please sit down. Reese, is it?”
“Yes.”
The other woman cocked her head. “You have excellent references. From your application it’s apparent you’re a student and a scholar. Since you’re single and have no experience taking care of other people’s children, why did you apply to be a nanny?”
Reese could lie, but she had a feeling this woman would see right through her. “I need to earn as much money as possible this summer so I can stay in school until graduation. My academic scholarship doesn’t cover housing and food. Even those of us born in fly-over-country have heard a nanny’s job in New York can pay very well, so I thought I’d try for a position.” Hopefully that explanation was frank enough for her.
“Taking care of children is exceptionally hard work. I know because I raised two of my own.”
Reese smiled. “I’ve never been married, but I’m the oldest in the family of six children and did a lot of babysitting over the years. I was fourteen when my youngest sister was born. My mother had to stay in bed, so I helped with the baby. It was like playing house. My sister was adorable and I loved it. But,” she said as she sighed, “that was twelve years ago. Still, taking care of children is like learning to tie your shoes, don’t you think? Once you’ve figured it out, you never forget.”
The other woman eyed her shrewdly while she nodded. “I agree.”
“How many children do they have?” Please don’t let the number be more than three. Although Reese wouldn’t turn it down if the money was good enough.
“Mr. Wainwright is a widower with a ten-week-old baby boy named Jamie.”
The news concerning the circumstances came as a sobering revelation to Reese. She’d assumed she might end up working for a couple with several children, that is if she were ever offered a job. “Then he’s still grieving for his wife.” She shook her head. “How sad for him and his little boy, who’ll never know his mother.”
Reese got a swelling in her throat just thinking of her own wonderful mom still remarkably young and vital, probably the same age as Mrs. Tribe.
“It’s a tragic loss for both of them. Mr. Wainwright has arranged for a nanny who’s been with another family to start working for him, but she can’t come until September. Because you only wanted summer work, that’s one of the reasons I was interested in your application.”
One of the reasons? She’d aroused Reese’s curiosity. “What were the others?”
“You didn’t name an unrealistic salary. Finally, one of your professors at Wharton told me you’ve been on full academic scholarship there. Good for you. An opportunity like that only comes to a very elite group of graduate students. It means you’re going to have a brilliant career in business one day.”
To run her own brokerage firm was Reese’s goal for the future. “That’s my dream.”
The dream that had torn her and Jeremy apart.
Jeremy had been fine about her finishing up her undergraduate work at the University of Nebraska, but the scholarship to Wharton had meant a big move to Pennsylvania. The insinuation that she was too ambitious led to the core of the problem eating at him. Jeremy hadn’t wanted a future-executive for a wife. In return Reese realized she’d had a lucky escape from a future-controlling-husband. Their breakup had been painful at the time, but the hurt was going away. She didn’t want him back. Therein lay the proof.
Mrs. Tribe sat back in her chair and studied Reese. “It was my dream, too, but I didn’t get the kind of grades I saw on your transcripts. Another of your professors told me he sees a touch of genius in you. I liked hearing that about you.”
Reese couldn’t imagine which professor that was. “You’ve made my day.”
“Likewise,” she murmured, sounding surprised by her own thoughts. “Provided you feel good about the situation after seeing the baby and discussing Mr. Wainwright’s expectations of you in that regard, I think you’ll do fine for the position. Of course the final decision will be up to him.”
Reese could hardly believe she’d gotten this far in the interview. “I don’t know how to thank you, Mrs. Tribe. I promise I won’t let him, or you, down. Do you have a picture of the baby?”
A frown marred her brow. “I don’t, but you’ll be meeting him and his father this afternoon. Where have you been staying since you left Philadelphia?”
“At the Chelsea Star Hotel on West 30th.”
“You did say you were available immediately?”
“Yes!” The dormitory bed cost her fifty dollars a night. She couldn’t afford to stay in New York after today.
“That’s good. If he decides to go with my recommendation and names a fee that’s satisfactory to you, then he’ll want you to start today.”
“What should I wear to the interview? Do I need some kind of uniform? This is completely new to me.”
“To both of us,” came her honest response. “Wear what you have on. If he has other suggestions, he’ll tell you.”
“Does he have a pet?”
“As far as I know he’s never mentioned one. Are you allergic?”
“No.