Nanny Bil-aries
Elena Castillo, the other bartender on my shift, asks, polishing a wine glass with a practiced hand.
“Things are fine. I’m just a governess, nothing too terribly exciting. Lots of thumb action with the tempera paint and lots of structured play, mostly,” I reply flatly.
She whistles. “I can’t believe you’re wasting such an opportunity.”
I laugh. “Would you stop this, Elena?
She groans, leaning over the counter. “I'm serious! Can't believe you. The man is richer than God and owns half the high quality newspapers in the country. If you marry him, you are set for life and never have to struggle with funding your studio again."
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