Alien Architect Needs a Nanny (Alien Nanny Agency 1)

“Oh,” the girl said suddenly.

“Did she reappear?” Emilia asked.

“No,” the girl whispered. “But I turned around to get the chocolate stations and now the bowl of salt crisps is floating back to the couch.”

“Excellent,” Emilia told her.

“I’ve gotta go,” the girl said. “I really want to get back to her.”

“Good,” Emilia said. “Just remember, do not make a big deal about it. And the next time you get a free moment, read your manual and do a data search on Bergalians. This could have been avoided by following Tenet number six.”

“Number six?” the girl echoed, as if Emilia were speaking in code.

“Be well-informed,” Emilia quoted.

“Oh, right,” the girl acknowledged. “To be honest, I didn’t even have time to read that whole book. I kind of landed this gig in a hurry. But I’ll try to do better. Thanks a lot for helping me.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Emilia told her sincerely. She really did like her job. Even now. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

There was a lot of giggling in the background.

“Sorry, Jeremy Xaxan just took his shirt off,” the girl whispered happily. “We’re good.”

“Okay, then, take care,” Emilia said, signing off.

She sat back in her chair and exhaled.

“Wow, you’re so good,” her desk-mate Janice said admiringly. “Almost as good as Pralexx.”

That was high praise. Pralexx was one of the twenty-seven highly experienced nannies employed by the Alien Nanny Agency. Their expertise put the Alien Nanny Agency on the map as the go-to agency for high-end clientele who wanted elite care for their young children.

The nannies had all worked with families among the same social circles for years. They supported each other with a monthly meeting and book club, during which they traded advice and read child development books by experts all over the galaxy.

Every summer they had a recipe contest for the best way to get nutrients into a fussy eater. There was their infamous Secret Hearth Day Beast gift exchange, where all gifts received were promptly donated to the local food trust. And they all participated in a weekly sector lotto pool.

Fortunately for the nannies, but unfortunately for the agency and their clientele, their lotto pool had finally paid off.

And they had won big.

All twenty-seven nannies had promptly quit with little or no notice, leaving the agency to hold cattle-call style hiring parties, and train inexperienced young nannies not only to care for their new charges, but how to adjust to living in the opulent manner of their charges’ families.

“No one will ever be as good as Pralexx,” Emilia said wistfully, thinking of the self-assured woman with the pale tentacles on her head waving comfortingly as she programmed knitting patterns into her bracelet and talked shop.

“Hey maybe one of these new ones will get there,” Janice said. “They have to start somewhere, and you’re pointing them all in the right direction.”

“Emilia Robbins,” the speaker above their workstation vibrated with the forcefulness of their boss’s rich contralto. “See me in my office.”

Janice’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline and she turned back to her hologram screen with uncharacteristic swiftness.

A visit to the boss’s office clearly wasn’t something she wanted any part of.

Emilia didn’t exactly blame her.