Free The Billionaire's Nanny: A BWWM Romantic Comedy by Mia Caldwell

you to come or did I tell you not to bother, I forget.” says Vanessa, cocking an eyebrow at her friend.
    “Oh, you always say don’t bother, Miss Self Sufficient. I just imagined you trying to drag a couch down the stairs on your own.”
    “Well, I’m glad I had you to keep Bootsy from sloshing around, anyway.” She sees my look of confusion and adds, “Bootsy Collins is my betta fish. He lives under the plant.”
    When the elevator doors open, I lock it into place and pick up a box. “Let’s get you to your chambers.” I lead them to the room beside the nursery, the room where Vanessa stayed the night to keep an eye on Maeve. It takes the three of us only two trips each to get all of her belongings into the room.
    Reluctantly, I say, “I guess I should get back to work. Just text if you need anything.”
    “I’ll walk you back to the elevator, make sure I didn’t drop anything,” says Vanessa. It’s clearly a ruse.
    Once in the hallway, away from the bedroom door, I turn to her. “What’s up?”
    She smiles and I see that dimple. "Yeah, I got to thinking…You say you saw Maeve choke on the security camera. Um, where else are they? I mean, it’s your right to watch your house, but I feel like I have a right to know where I’m being watched." Hurriedly, she adds, “Not that I’m going to steal the china or anything, I just want to know where I shouldn’t…pick my nose.”
    I’ve felt guilty about spying on her, so getting called on it makes me blush, I’m sure. But I can answer truthfully, “Maeve’s crib, playroom rug, north end of each hallway, front door, back door, front gate. That’s it.” She looks relieved. “So be sure to do any nose picking while facing away from the north end.”
    “Will do, good advice. Thanks for your help, Corbin. Both with unloading the car and, um, financially. This helps a lot.”
    “My pleasure.” And it is.
    As I head to the stairs, I hear her say, “Let’s go see Maeve, anyway. We can unpack later.” She seems to genuinely care for her.
    Back in my office, I see them on the rug with her, pushing buttons on a plastic box. Each time a door flips open to reveal a farm animal, Maeve squeals in delight. It’s pretty cute. For a moment, I think I should go up there, join in the fun, but no. Better to do the job, sort the giraffes from the grafts. I click back to the spreadsheet.
    Just as my eyes are about to glaze over, my phone buzzes with a message from Vanessa.
    V: Going to take Asia back to town so she can go home. Should I pick up take out? I know a place…
    Great , I text back, that’s a good idea. see you soon.
    I stare at my stilted message. She must think I’m such a stick in the mud.
    Man, if my college self could see me now. He’d definitely pass me a joint and tell me to chill out. And I’d tell him to get a haircut and a job. How quickly we become our parents, right? I could do worse, certainly, my dad is a pretty great guy. College Corbin didn’t think so, of course. He thought Edward Pierce was a serious buzz kill, all up in my grill about grades ‘n’ shit.
    It’s easy, when you’re the youngest sibling, to feel like no one cares what you’re doing because all the cool stuff has already been done–and probably better–by another kid. So I’d let my sisters be the Smart One and the Driven One and the Artist, and I was left with the Fuckup. I was really good at it. At boarding school, I got into trouble for smoking weed and got kicked off the lacrosse team–which I hated–freeing up yet more time for smoking weed.
    In what I told myself was an act of rebellion, I didn’t even apply to my father’s alma mater, Harvard. In truth, he had to pull strings to get me into Dartmouth. It would have taken a serious donation to get me into Harvard. Dartmouth was willing to lower its standards in exchange for a new locker room in the gym. I did not take them by storm.
    When Dad had a pretty serious heart attack my junior year of college, I