Chapter 2: The One-Night Girl

 

Five years later…

Life hadn't gone the way Diana expected after the divorce.

She'd learned the hard way that the world she used to move in was shallow to the core—the second you lost your status, the people you thought were your friends turned their backs on you. Izan made sure nobody hired her, made sure nobody so much as gave her a shift. He wanted her crawling back, and she wasn't about to let him humiliate her like that.

Her ex-husband had lied to everyone. Rewrote the whole story, claimed he'd caught her cheating with the driver. And just to finish her off, he swore she'd tried to rob him blind so she could run off with her lover. He'd forged evidence, bought off witnesses, made sure the divorce settlement left her with nothing—and it had been easy for him, thanks to her own mistake.

The night she'd slept with a stranger, she'd gotten pregnant. They'd run the DNA test, and the result was exactly what she'd feared: Izan wasn't her daughter's father.

Diana heard the pounding on the door of her tiny apartment and surfaced from her thoughts.

She didn't want to answer it. She knew exactly who it was—her landlady, come to collect the rent. She was curled up on a threadbare couch with her four-year-old.

"Mommy, someone's knocking," her daughter said, and Diana pressed a finger to her lips, shushing her.

She grabbed the blanket they'd been huddled under against the cold and pulled it over both their heads.

"This is a magic cave," she whispered, "and as long as we're inside it, nobody can find us. But we have to stay quiet, or the witch outside will find us." The knocking got more insistent. "Oh no, that witch is going to throw us out on the street," she wailed, and watched the exact moment her daughter got swept up in the game.

A mischievous grin broke across the little girl's face, and there was no stopping her.

She yanked the blanket off her head and shouted:

"Witch, you'll never find us, we have magic! We're forest fairies!"

Diana clapped a hand over her face and covered her eyes.

Well. Now her landlady knew for sure they were home.

"You'll be sleeping in the forest tonight if your deadbeat mother doesn't open this door! I'm calling to have you both evicted right now!"

"No! I'm coming!" Diana shouted, springing up off the couch.

She ran to the door and threw it open. Her landlady stood on the other side, eyes narrowed, arms crossed, furious.

"You owe me three months' rent. I think I've been more than patient."

"Please, just give me a few more days, I'll find a job," Diana begged. "If not for me, then for her."

It was a low blow, but her landlady adored the kid, and Diana wasn't above using that.

"I'll wait, because I know you quit that disgusting den of sin and you're trying to do right by yourself. But if you go back to shaking your tail at that place, I don't care if you pay me double, I won't have you here." She held out a slip of paper, and Diana took it. "My niece told me they're hiring a receptionist where she works. That's the address. I told her to put in a good word for you."

Diana pressed the paper to her chest and bit down on her bottom lip to keep from crying.

"She's a good witch," she whispered.

"What was that?" the old woman barked, jamming her hearing aid deeper into her ear.

"I said you're a very kind woman. I'll be there first thing tomorrow."

"You'd better be," her landlady grumbled, looking her up and down. "My niece says they have on-site daycare for employees, so dress decent. And if you don't land this job, I'm calling social services."

"No, don't you dare!" Diana shouted, clutching the paper. "I'm not letting this one slip away."

She watched her landlady march off, shut the door, and let her back slide down against it.

"Mommy, did you beat the mean witch?" her daughter asked.

"For now," Diana sighed. A second later the lightbulb flickered and died. "Of course," she muttered. They'd cut the power.

Could anything else possibly go wrong? She needed a miracle.

***

"I quit!" The nanny's scream echoed through the entire house.

Alexander had just walked out of a board meeting and driven home like a maniac. His housekeeper had called and told him it was an emergency.

The nanny stumbled into the house caked head to toe in mud. The only part of her face still visible were her eyes, and they were staring at him like she'd lost her mind.

She wiped a glob of the stuff off her upper lip and screeched again.

"Are you listening to me?! I never want to lay eyes on those devil children again as long as I live."

Alexander tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling, and let his arms drop to his sides in total surrender.

"I'll triple your salary. Just don't quit." When she got closer, the smell hit him full in the face. "That's not mud, is it?"

"No, Mr. Turner. It is not mud," the nanny hissed. "It's horse manure."

His sons appeared behind her, still in their riding gear, hands filthy. Not a shred of remorse on either face.

Alexander had thought a sport that wore them out would be a great idea, something to burn off all that endless energy they seemed to run on. Both boys loved animals, so he'd bought them each a horse and hired an instructor.

He'd lost count of how many nannies had cycled through this house since his wife died.

They all quit eventually.

"Nathan! Gabriel!" He barked their names even though they were standing right in front of him. "Why?"

"We didn't like her," said the older one—seven years old and, without question, the mastermind behind every disaster that happened in this house.

"Yeah, we didn't like her," his little brother agreed. "We don't want nannies. We want Mom back."

Ever since his wife's death, his boys' behavior had only gotten worse, and he had no idea what to do about it anymore.

"Gabriel, Mom can't come back. We've talked about this," he said gently. "And I need you two to stop trying to run off every nanny I hire, because nobody wants this job anymore."

"Then get married and bring us a new mom," his older son argued.

"Remember Tiffany?"

"A mom we actually like. Not a mean mom," they said in perfect, unnerving unison.

Alexander sighed, sent them off to shower, and told them they were grounded. Once they'd gone, he called his assistant.

"I need a new nanny," he said the second she picked up. "It's urgent."

"Nobody wants to be your kids' nanny anymore, Mr. Turner."

"Triple the pay, and send me every woman who shows up for the receptionist interview tomorrow. Maybe one of them will pull off a miracle."

***

Diana arrived at the interview address a half hour early.

She'd had to bring her daughter along—there'd been no one to leave her with.

She walked into the building and up to the front desk.

"Hi, good morning, I'm here for the receptionist interview." The woman glanced at her, then at the little girl.

"Oh, you're my aunt's tenant. She called me again this morning to remind me you were coming. You're early, but if you want, I can show you where the daycare is and you can head to your interview after. I put you first on the list."

Diana thanked her, and they walked toward the daycare together. Before they got there, the woman's phone rang, and she apologized.

"I've got to get back to the front desk, they need me. But you can wait in the daycare with your daughter. The nannies should be showing up in about ten minutes, and after that, just head that way and ask for Mr. Turner. Sorry to leave you on your own, but I really can't stay."

"Don't worry about it, I appreciate it so much, you've already done more than enough," Diana told her, and followed her directions.

Walking into the daycare, she spotted a man with his back to her. He was tall, dressed like an executive, talking to two boys a bit older than her daughter.

Diana figured he must be one of the employees taking advantage of the daycare, just like she was about to.

"Good morning," she called out so he'd hear her, but he barely registered it—her daughter was already tugging at her arm, desperate for attention.

"Mommy, look, there's a castle! Can I go play?"

Diana looked around and saw a room full of toys meant to keep kids entertained.

Somewhere in that sweep of the room, she caught the man looking at her, but she ignored it. She was sick and tired of men looking at her like a piece of meat—she'd had more than enough of that from her old job as a dancer.

"I think that's fine, but let's wait until the nannies get here so they can give you the okay, all right?"

"Okay, Mommy."

***

Alexander was in the middle of one final lecture for his sons before heading up to his office. He was telling them that if they didn't behave today—if one more of the company nannies walked out—they'd be grounded for a full month.

He'd been told a thousand times he was too soft on his kids, but they were all he had left of his beloved wife. And they needed a mother figure.

That was when a woman walked in with her daughter.

He was struck by how calm and well-mannered the little girl was. She eyed every toy in the room like she was dying to get her hands on them, but she didn't touch a thing without checking with her mother first.

When the woman told her daughter to wait, the two of them headed for a couple of chairs and sat down.

He couldn't help but notice the sway of her hips as she walked—until he caught his sons staring straight at him and quit looking.

"She's pretty, Daddy," his older son whispered.

Alexander cleared his throat. "I don't know what you're talking about." Curiosity got the better of him, and he checked his watch as he walked over to her. He needed the nannies to show up already—he couldn't leave his boys unsupervised—but as long as he was here, he might as well make use of the time.

He assumed she was one of the candidates for the receptionist job, but he was already planning to interview her for something else entirely: nanny to his sons. If her daughter was this well-behaved, maybe this woman could work the same miracle for his boys.

"Mommy, will you tell me again how the fairy sprinkled magic dust on your tummy and that's how I grew inside it?" he heard the little girl ask, her sweet little voice sending a wave of tenderness through him.

He'd always wanted a daughter.

"Hi, I haven't seen you here before—are you here for the receptionist interview?" he asked once he was standing in front of them.

The woman looked up at him, and shot out of her chair like it had a spring loaded underneath her.

"No way," she murmured, glancing at her daughter and then back at him. "The hot guy."

"The one-night girl," he answered—and froze, seeing her in the daylight for the first time, without mascara running down her cheeks from all that crying.