Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
It wasn’t a baby thing, though. I loved the toddler years just as much, and while I don’t have as close a hand in the boys’ upbringing now since they’re twelve and fourteen and completely self-sufficient (which is how our parents raised all of us), I get a kick out of watching them go through hormones and puberty and crushes on girls, dealing with acne and outgrowing their clothes every three months. What’s best about that though, is they come to me for advice, and we can talk about anything.
At any rate, when it came time for me to graduate high school, I had no interest in going off to college. I’m a reasonably smart girl, although not close to genius the way my mom is, or dedicated to knowledge the way Brian and Tim are. I was more the entrepreneur and my dad encouraged me to find my own path, even if it wasn’t going to college.
I took my first nanny job when I was nineteen after a year of waitressing at a downtown steakhouse. I wasn’t in that job for more than two days before I knew I’d found my calling.
The last four years with the Hamberlys have been a dream and I was devastated when they both got transferred to London with Norcross Holdings. They asked me to come along and even offered an insane salary increase because they love me as much as I love them. Let’s not even talk about the emotional attachment between me and their kids.
But in the end, I couldn’t bear to leave my family. My parents and brothers—the ones at home and those who have flown the coop—are my life, and I can’t imagine ever leaving Pittsburgh as long as they’re here. Brian and Tim both have jobs in the city and are married, although I haven’t been graced with nieces or nephews yet.
It’s my family I’m thinking of and our monthly family dinner tomorrow as I walk up to the front door of Foster McInnis’s house. I’d have every right to be irritated that I’m spending hours out of my day in what I think is futility, but I don’t mind doing this favor the Hamberlys asked of me. My mind is pretty much set on accepting a job offer from a couple with a new baby, and while the salary isn’t exactly what I’ve been making, the hours aren’t as tedious. I figure, however, I can hear what Mr. McInnis has to say and maybe even offer him some help finding the perfect person for him.
I ring the doorbell, pocketing my car keys, and when the door swings open, I’m not prepared for the stunning man standing before me. It never once occurred to me that he would be handsome, not that it has any bearing on anything, but he’s so good-looking, I’m momentarily speechless. His dark hair is longish on top, shorter on the sides, and looks like it was styled only by a quick running of his fingers through it. His strong jaw is covered with thick stubble but it’s his light hazel eyes fringed in dark lashes that hit me with a case of the stupids.
“You must be Mary Elizabeth,” he says, offering a hand. “I’m Foster McInnis.”
I accept the handshake. “Yes, hi. But everyone calls me Mazzy.”
Tilting his head as if to consider my name, he grins. “I like that. Come on in.”
I step over the threshold and look around at the large open foyer filled with light, plants and framed landscape art. “You’ve got a beautiful home, Mr. McInnis.”
“Foster, please,” he says gruffly, and leads me into the kitchen. “Mr. McInnis makes me feel old.”
He heads to the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of water, glancing over his shoulder at me. “Would you like something to drink? I’ve got water, and well… just water, or I can make you coffee or tea.”
“I’m good,” I reply and take a seat at the large island done in white granite with black veins, flecked with silver. The entire kitchen is white except for the backsplash, which is a wall of charcoal-gray subway tile.
Foster moves around the island and takes the chair next to me. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I was so relieved when Brienne Norcross had a personal recommendation for a nanny for me, but I have a few questions for you.”
“Actually,” I say, cutting in, “I think I need to be up front with you that I interviewed for a job yesterday that I’m strongly considering. In fact, not just strongly considering. I’ve decided to accept it, but I have to work out a few scheduling details with them.”
“But you haven’t officially accepted?” he prompts.
“No, but I guess I just need to be clear. It’s a good job and I’m going to.”