Chapter 2

 

Ryan

 

I closed the door to my office and plopped into my plush leather chair, feeling all the frustration and fatigue bearing down on me. I rubbed my tired eyes and threw my head back against the headrest. I am so sick of this nonsense.

 

“That bad, huh?” Mark’s voice broke through my thoughts. 

“What are you doing in my office? I gave you access for an emergency only, not to wander about at will,” I growled.

 

Mark pouted and said, “Aww! Come on, dude. I was bored and figured you would need some company after getting that call from Liam’s school. What happened?” I reluctantly recounted the events from earlier.

 

Three hours ago, I was preparing for an important meeting with investors when my phone chimed, displaying Principal Dan’s number on the screen. Panic surged through me, and I couldn’t help but wonder, ‘Is Liam okay?’ 

 

“Hello. Principal Dan, here. Am I talking to Mr. Crawford?” Principal Dan’s voice sounded strained.

 

“Yes. Hello, Principal Dan. This is Ryan Crawford. Is Liam all right?” I got straight to the point, my concern palpable.

 

He responded in a chipped voice, “Yes, sir, he is OK, but you need to come to the school as soon as possible.”

 

“Why?” I asked, my heart pounding.

 

“It would be better if we talked about it in my office. How quickly can you come?” he asked.

 

“I will be there in 20 minutes,” I replied before hanging up the phone. I quickly informed Mark, my business partner and self-proclaimed best friend, that I had to rush to Liam’s school, leaving him to handle the investors.

 

I entered Liam’s school. He must have gotten into some sort of trouble because I have been called in a few times now. But never at such a high level of urgency. As I stepped into the office, the assistant looked at me with lust. I was tempted to give her a piece of my mind, but I was pressed for time.

 

“I need to see Principal Dan. Please let him know that Ryan Crawford is here,” I stated, trying to maintain my composure.

 

“Oh, Mr. Crawford, I know who you are. I will let him know. Please, take a seat,” she said, fluttering her fake lashes and gesturing to an adjacent chair.

 

“I am fine where I am,” I said as she dashed towards the principal’s cabin. She returned a few moments later and said, “You may enter now, sir.”

 

The first thing I noticed was my son, Liam, sitting in the corner, accompanied by a ferocious teacher. I’m puzzled.

 

The principal said, “Mr. Crawford, please have a seat.”

 

I said, “Thank you,” and sat down. “What’s wrong, Principal Dan?” I asked.

 

“Mr. Crawford, we have yet another complaint about Laim. He skipped class this morning and entered the chemistry lab, where he combined various hazardous chemicals. If not for Mr. Allison stopping him before he could do it, he may have sparked a fire or, worse yet, hurt himself,” Principal Dan explained.

 

I glanced at my son, feeling a surge of anger. He sat there, huddled and guilty, his hand clutching his chest and head bowed, avoiding my eyes.

 

“This is his third and final warning, sir. After that, I’m afraid I’ll have to take action and expel him from school,” Principal Dan stated, his voice tinged with anger.

 

My head snapped around, and I exclaimed, “What? Expelled? Are you forgetting, Principal Dan, that I am the biggest benefactor to this school? And why were the chemicals kept carelessly so that a kindergartener could reach them?”

 

“Mr. Crawford," he said, gulping, "I understand your concerns, but you must examine Liam’s behavior. As for the chemicals, they were there for high school students’ classes. I hope you can understand that I’m trying, but this month has seen a tenfold increase in the number of complaints against Liam,” Principal Dan added hesitantly.

 

I said while gritting my teeth, “I understand. I’ll speak with him. Can my son come home with me?”

 

“Yes. His classes for today are over. I appreciate you coming. But we cannot keep letting his mischief get out of hand. We have to take action next time, I am afraid,” Principal Dan replied.

 

I nodded and walked out of the office with Liam, feeling a mix of anger and concern. I climbed into my car and instructed my driver to take us home.

 

Liam murmured, “Daddy.”

 

“Not now. I’ll deal with you at home.” I snapped, losing my cool. It hurt to see the tears in his eyes, but he needed stricter discipline. He's getting worse. I dropped him off at home and arrived at the office. I headed straight to my desk.

 

I scowled at Mark as he laughed aloud. “Is this funny? My child is about to be expelled from school, and you are laughing, dumbass!”

 

“What exactly do you expect me to do, Ryan?” he chuckled. “I’m an only child. I have no relatives, not even cousins. Hell, I’ve never held a baby before, Liam. And I held him twice. I can’t suggest anything about that. All I can do is laugh,” he said.

 

I massaged my eyes once more and asked, “What should I do? That kid is becoming more troublesome by the day.”

 

“How about you hire a nanny or a tutor who can discipline the child?” he asked.

 

“I tried, man,” I sighed. “No nanny is capable. Many of them do not survive one day with Liam. And I am left with Liam, being alone at our home at the end of the day. I am busy at the office and sometimes need to pull all-nighters. Liam needs constant care. Mrs. Veil, my housekeeper, is getting old, and she cannot handle doing all the housework and looking after Liam anymore.”

 

“So, hire a live-in nanny. We are now looking for a tutor and a nanny or tutnanny. As a result, we narrowed our search radius to a person who could do both for Liam. Don’t worry, I’ll set up some interviews. I have some pull in this city, or should I say, in this country. I don’t want my godson expelled,” he smirked.

 

“What the fuck is a tutnanny?” I asked, ignoring his overconfident fuckry.

 

He rolled his eyes and replied, “A tutor who is also a nanny is called a tutnanny. Keep up, grandpa!”

 

I scowled, “If hiring a new nanny/tutor doesn’t work, I’ll have to send him to boarding school,” I mumbled. I knew it was a painful decision, but I had no other choice.

 

“No, let’s do the interview first,” Mark suggested. Did he just panic a little?

 

Confused, I nod and sigh. As Mark hurried out of my office, I continued working. I don’t have high hopes of finding someone like that. I don’t want my son to live without a family at such a young age, but I don’t want him to be a spoiled brat either.

 

When I arrived home at midnight after a long day of back-to-back meetings, the impending interviews still consumed my thoughts. Hopefully, a good nanny can help my son.

 

After opening the door, I walked straight to Liam’s bedroom. He was soundly sleeping in his car bed, toys were scattered everywhere, and books were piled on the floor. The room looked like it had been hit by a hurricane. I sighed and began tidying up the room. 

 

I noticed dry tear traces on my son’s face, and a sudden wave of remorse washed over me, but I was at a loss for how to handle the situation. I am not good at this; I know. I gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead after carefully tucking him in, murmuring, “I’m sorry, son,” before leaving the room and tenderly closing the door.

 

“You can leave now, Jim,” I told the guard, who had been looking after Liam until my return. He nodded and walked out, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I sighed and sat with my head in my hands, hoping that Mark would find someone to look after Liam, sparing him from the prospect of being sent to a boarding school. Truthfully, I don't want him to go as well.

 

 

Two weeks later...

 

Mark had managed to schedule interviews with several potential tutors/nannies for Liam today. I do not know how he accomplished this in such a short period, but I am grateful for it. 

 

The intercom rang. “Mr. Crawford, Melissa Smith is here for the interview. Should I send her in?” Caine, my assistant, inquired. I picked up Melissa’s resume from the stack in front of me. Seems okay. 

 

“Hm, send her in,” I replied, ending the conversation. I muttered to myself, “Here goes nothing.” 

I heard a soft knock at the door, and I invited the candidate inside.  

A tall, slender blonde entered, dressed in a tight skirt and an even tighter shirt, paired with high heels. She sat down to give me a seductive smile and a clear glimpse of her chest, making it clear she wanted to emphasize her physical attributes. Yes, it is pointless to interview her.

 

“Hello, sir. My name is...” She began introducing herself, but I interrupted her sharply, saying, “No need. You’ve been rejected. Out!”

 

“But, sir, I-I was...,” she stammered. I scowled at her and repeated, “I do not want a flirt as my son’s nanny. Now out.” Her face contorted in anger, and she stormed out of my office, displaying arrogance. Yeah, good riddance.

 

“That’s why I’ve been raising my son alone for so long. Most women are gold diggers or floozies.” I huffed.

 

The next candidate fell short because she couldn’t grasp the complexities of dealing with a child’s behavior. The next one was a snob who was full of himself, thinking he was entitled to this job. All nugatory idiots. I lost hope of finding a suitable nanny/tutor for my son after interviewing five people. Now, it was time to meet the last candidate of the day. 

 

A soft knock came on the door, and my heart skipped a beat as the blonde with the ponytail and a not-so-formal red top and black jeans entered. Her presence took me by surprise, and I couldn’t help but notice her exceptionally beautiful and angelic face. Not that over-the-top beauty, but something serene. 

 

What the hell? What’s the matter with me? Serene? Seriously!

 

“Mr. Crawford, good afternoon. My name is Amy Castello,” she greeted me with a smile and a silky-smooth voice that momentarily caught my attention. A silky smooth voice? Am I being pretentious, or what? “Umm... Mr. Crawford?” Her voice interrupted my thoughts. When I looked up, her brows were furrowed and her lips were pouty.

 

I cleared my throat, focusing on the interview, “Ms. Castello, please have a seat.” Before we could proceed, my office door swung open, and Mark entered with an unusual, goofy smile on his face. I shot him a disapproving glare for his unnecessary interruption.

 

“Sorry for the delay. Let’s get back to the interview,” Mark said while looking at Amy and winking at her.

 

“Mark, what are you doing here?” I inquired, a bit confused by his presence here.

 

“How can I leave such a significant decision on your shoulders alone? Liam is my godson,” he said dramatically.

 

He turned to the confused woman sitting on the chair. “Hello. Amy, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” he said, smirking at her.

 

Now I understand his sudden interest in interviewing the nanny for my son. What baffled me was the unexpected feeling of jealousy that washed over me as I watched him flirt with Amy.