The Nanny and the Playboy

“You’re not going to argue?” Robert asked. “Demand to know why?”

“I know why I’m leaving. There’s no need to bring it up. You want me gone, fine.” His latest wife wanted her gone.

Three days ago, Catherine had watched Robert’s youngest daughter Britney launch herself into Temperance’s arms and show her the new box that she’d made along with spelling out words they’d been practicing. When Catherine had tried to get a hug, Britney had pulled away and frowned at her.

From that moment on Catherine had made Temperance’s life difficult. New rules had come into effect that meant Temperance had to stay away from the kids for a period of time. They were stupid rules, but she had to remember that the Thompsons were her employers, so she didn’t argue.

She did her job to the best of her abilities, even if she was spewing hateful words in the back of her mind.

Catherine had hated her because as far as the other woman was concerned, Temperance was too fat for anyone to like. In fact, when she first met Robert’s latest girlfriend, Catherine had even tried to apologize for the kids’ behavior using the excuse that they could be cruel. There had even been a hint that Temperance should go on a diet.

The image of the Thompsons had to be flawless.

A size eighteen nanny didn’t fit with the image the great Catherine wanted to showcase to the world.

The kids hadn’t called her fat, nor had they treated her like dirt.

She’d been with the kids several months before Catherine finally arrived on the scene, but it looked like she was gone again.

Not that she blamed Robert or the family. Nannies were always replaceable. If she didn’t love kids so much, she’d have gotten a different job years ago.

Children were something she loved, though. She didn’t need a home of her own, or time to herself. When the kids were asleep she read, waiting for them to need her again. This had been her life now since she was eighteen years old and she was asked to babysit.

Getting to her feet, Temperance didn’t give Robert another look. If she was honest with herself, she was pissed that she had once again allowed herself to feel for a bunch of kids that were not her own.

Within the hour she’d packed her few belongings and headed toward the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry it had to be this way,” Catherine said, leaning against the doorframe. “Kids these days. They only need two parents.”

Robert stood a little behind her.

Temperance saw the gloating look on Catherine’s face. The other woman truly believed she’d won a contest or something. Whatever.

Temperance walked toward the kitchen, removed four lists from the refrigerator, along with two files of her own.

Placing them onto the counter, she looked at both parents.

“What’s this?” Robert asked.

“This is the current schedule for each of your four children. It’s tight, but providing you know where to be and when, you can get each of them to their play date, event, or hobby. This is the folder that has marked out all of their doctor, dentist, student, and teenager-slash-child obligations.” She placed them all down on the counter. There were over a hundred pages.

Robert looked at Catherine. “You are aware of this.”

“I’m sure it’ll be easy to take over.”

“Good. You can handle it.” He pushed all of the paperwork toward his wife. “After all, this was your decision.”

Temperance didn’t stick around. She always made files, notes, and prepared everything to organize for the following year. Working with kids, she made sure organization was key to every single job, no matter how long she’d be employed.

Climbing into her car, she headed toward the apartment she shared in the city. She rarely ever went home, but she’d learned long ago to always be prepared for moments like these.

If Robert and Catherine thought they could do a better job than she did, they could have at it.

“Stupid fucking rich people. They think they can do everything. Ha!” She burst out laughing recalling the horror on Catherine’s face and what the selfish bitch had to do.

Children were not like people that would amuse themselves.

She hoped the kids were okay, but she secretly hoped they gave Catherine hell.

So many people thought being a nanny was easy. She had a newsflash for a lot of them … it wasn’t. Being a nanny was hard fucking work. They were long days spent getting to know different children. Their ages ranged from two to eighteen. Then of course you had the nice kids, the spoiled brats, or the bastards that hated you for being a glorified babysitter.

The hours were long. The moment one child decided that four in the morning was a good day, you were pretty much up, and that was the start of your day.

She didn’t hate kids, though.