Evangeline Nanny Mcphee Novels & Stories

It worked because as I made the suggestion, their beaming smiles returned to their faces. "Now that is settled," Mia said turning to the woman at the counter making cupcakes. She had not said a word since I walked in, but she offered a small smile every time I caught her gaze. "Emma, this is Chirs, the new nanny for the kids." she gestured to me. "Nice to meet you, Chris," she said with a shy smile. "I'm the head housekeeper and the house manager here. If you need anything, please feel free to let me know."

And it wasn’t just Ivy she was wrapping around her finger. She moved like a secret. Spoke without a voice. Seduced without a single touch. He needed control back. He turned, storming down the stairs and through the hall until he reached the surveillance room. “Delete all footage from the nanny’s wing,” he snapped. “Sir?” the technician blinked. “You heard me.” “Of course.” As he walked away, his hand clenched into a fist. No more watching. If he wanted to know her secrets, he’d have to find another way.

Tee sighs, moving away from the door. He’s tense still, his jaw locking even he whispers, “Ray… What job did you get that’s enough for both rent and Gramma’s bills in such short time?” It’s my turn to sigh. I fully face him now. “I’m a nanny for some rich guy in this town. His name is Alan King, and I’m just his nanny… nothing more.” My voice definitely cracks when I say the last two words. I quickly turn to the mirror, hoping Tee didn’t notice. My palms are a bit sweaty when I use the brush again. I pause to wipe my clammy hands against my pants.

Judging by her expression, she's just as flabbergasted as I am. I take the moment of silence as we both realize who the other person is to really look at her for the first time. I can tell she must be nearly 15 years younger than me, probably in her mid-twenties, although “mid” was probably pushing it a bit; my contract with the agency specified that Sophie’s nanny must be over the age of 21, as I may have need of her to accompany her while she is attending a function with me that serves alcohol, but I’d be surprised if she was older than 25. She has a thin, tight body, and seems nervous. She also has long dark brown hair and a bold set of features that are striking, if not as conventionally

And I sure as hell didn’t want her to hear me talking about her breasts. Or the fact that I had been leering at them. She would think I was a pervert and run away. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Camille hissed. “You ARE fucking the nanny!” “No, I’m not! Eileen isn’t like that. She is sweet and smart, and she'd never just have a fling with someone.” Camille rolled her eyes. “Well, there has to be something wrong with her. She is letting someone else’s baby ruin her body. Does she love money that much?”

If her connection to them is revealed? I shivered at that thought. I still had a lot on my plate regarding Keren and her attachment to Miss Stewart. All I had done was speak rudely to her Nanny, and she’d simply shut me out. What would happen if her Nanny leaves? Would she shut herself in and refuse to eat? The sound of my cellphone ringing broke the train of my thoughts. And after glancing at the caller’s ID. I picked it up. “Hello, Nanny.” I breathed, pushing my plush office chair backwards.

I considered ignoring it, but something told me I shouldn’t. I reached for it with a trembling hand and saw the name flash across the screen. Nathan. I hesitated then I answered. “Hello?” “Evangeline,” his voice snapped immediately, full of anger. “How could you? How could you cut off everything? I thought you were joking when you said it, but you really meant it. You... you actually did it. All the bank accounts, the monthly allowances, the utilities—you even stopped the groceries for Noah, how can you be so wicked?”

The woman who'd appeared in my life just as everything started going wrong. "Sir?" Santino pressed. My mind raced. The timing was too convenient. A new nanny, hired just before the attacks began. Someone with access to my home, my daughter, my routines. Someone who could have overheard phone calls, seen documents, and learned my weaknesses. But then I thought about the way she held Aria. The gentleness in her touch. The tears in her eyes when she'd talked about losing someone. That couldn't be faked. Could it?