Dr. Stud

Is that a smirk she is giving me? Is that a sexual innuendo?

“Yes, definitely… I’m interested in the position,” she affirms. It is the first time I have heard her voice, and it’s wonderful. A little breathy, a little husky. Not like a smoker’s voice, but something knowing and deep. It seems strange that voice comes out of this delicate, elfish beauty.

But she puts her hands on her hips and shifts her weight to one side, and I can see there’s more to her than that. She is not just a pixie. She is strong. I wonder if she lifts weights or trains in gymnastics or dance or something like that. Maybe a ballerina? I’m not sure we’ve ever had a ballerina.

“Sophia is four months old. How much experience do you have with infants?”

She smiles more broadly. “How much experience do you have with infants?” she challenges me.

At first I want to scoff, but she’s got a point. Obviously she has figured out that if we are looking for a nanny, we expect our

hands-on time to be limited to what I can handle.

“We are not all here at the same time. Not in Chicago,” I say by way of explanation. It’s a little evasive, but it seems to be working. “But we all spend time with her. You’ll need to make sure that she is available for us, as our schedules permit. Is that acceptable?”

She shrugs. “Certainly. You’re the boss. Er, bosses. There are how many of you, exactly?”

I’m surprised that August didn’t explain this to her. Neither did Sully, apparently.

“Five,” I say carefully, watching her face for signs of alarm. “And you’re sure you’re comfortable? With all of us?”

Her mouth pops open briefly. She clamps it together again and holds herself a little taller. I can see her mind working it out.

“All of you?” she counters. “In what way?”

I almost feel like challenging Sully to a race in the pool was the wrong call. I should’ve challenged this woman. She’s a much better competitor. I can tell by the way she is sizing me up that she does understand what I’m saying, but she wants clarification for the record.

Or, she’s trying to frame me for sexual harassment.

But something about her makes me want to take the chance. I don’t want there to be any more misunderstandings. Nina seemed to understand, she certainly said she understood, but she never really did. She never looked at me the way this person is looking at me. Never like this.

“I’ll be frank,” I start again, clearing my throat. “We did not expect to need a new nanny. Our arrangement with Sophia’s mother was that she would be ours forever. Our arrangement with a replacement would have to be the same. She would have to be… ours. Forever.”

“You mean, sexually?”

She asks it innocently, but with that contradictory sultriness right underneath. It’s amazing to watch her be two things at once: innocent and worldly, impish and sexy, direct and indirect, virginal and completely slutty.

Oh my God, she’s licking her lower lip again.

“As a matter of fact, I do mean sexually. We have a lot to protect, as you can imagine. The fewer individual dalliances we have, the fewer chances there are for bad actors.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “Bad actors,” she repeats.

“Maybe not intentionally, maybe not at first,” I explain cautiously, “but sometimes people want to leave. They marry then divorce. They are hired and then fired. Or they quit. One of the worst things that could happen would be someone who could split the inheritance away from Sophia. That would be monumentally unfair to her. So we have to protect that. You understand?”

She nods slowly. “You want a nanny… and a concubine?”

I scan her face for clues. Is she disgusted? Not that I can tell. She has an opinion, but I can’t see exactly what it is. I know I do not want to play poker with this woman.

“That’s one way of putting it. You could just think of us as a harem,” I counter. “Probably more than your wildest dreams.”

“Oh, I think my wildest dreams would probably really surprise you,” she sighs wistfully. For just a second, her gaze goes distant as though she’s actually remembering a dream or two. And for just a second, I’m extremely curious about what’s playing in her mind’s eye.

“You want to tell me?” I ask her in a low voice.

“Is that part of the interview?”

“Perhaps,” I shrug.