A Baby for the Babysitter

But if talking leads to other activities…

“Okay, I’ll see you at around ten,” I tell her instead before grabbing my coat from the rack. Then without further ado, I let myself out and practically jump down the steps before bounding to the town car waiting at the curb

Holy shit, that was an unexpected turn of events, I muse to myself while entering the darkened vehicle. What were the chances?

But now, the curvy girl’s in my life and I can’t wait to get to know her better. In fact, the fundraiser ahead of me seems boring and ridiculous, and I’d love to skip it altogether. But I make myself stay the course. After all, there’s a beautiful woman waiting for me at the end of the night, and now, the entire evening will be a blur until I can see Marcy again.

6

Marcy

* * *

I peek into Vivi’s room to check on her. It’s almost ten o’clock, but I’ve made it a point to pop my head into her room a few times over the last hour or so, just in case. After all, you never know what kids are up to because they could be scaling the walls when they should be asleep.

But Vivi was tired after her bath, and when I look in, the soft yellow glow from her nightlight provides enough light for me to see the darling girl. She’s resting like a little angel, tucked into her canopy bed and squeezing a teddy bear. She’s somehow managed to push her covers all the way off the bed, so I scoop them back up and gently tuck them back around her small body. The little girl murmurs in her sleep but then goes still, letting out the cutest of small snorts.

I can’t help but envy her sweet slumber because tonight’s just been so crazy. It’s been a long evening, mostly because I’ve been on edge counting down the minutes until Jared is supposed to get home from his event. Fortunately, Vivi kept me entertained with different make-believe games, books, and ice cream. She also cooperated surprisingly well for a five year old when it was time to get ready for bed, and everything went smoothly.

Her good manners must be a testament to her dad, I think warmly. Or is it her mom who’s responsible?

Ugh. The gnawing feeling in my gut returns for the hundredth time tonight. I know it’s none of my business, but I have so many questions about his relationships and dating life in general. I mean, it wouldn’t have surprised me if Jared had said he was married. But it’s not my business to ask, nor is it my place to pass judgment. Hostesses exist for a man’s pleasure, and that’s pretty much the long and short of it.

So when Jared told me that there was no Mrs. Michaels, my relief had been immediate. It’s crazy because I know I only had sex with the guy one time, and we barely spoke ten words to each other that one time, but I felt a deep and unexpected connection to the billionaire. So even though it shouldn’t be like this, it was still as if a weight was lifted from my shoulders.

But what happened to his ex? I wonder immediately. I sigh loudly. The sound must disturb little Vivi, because she whimpers a bit in her sleep.

“Shh, shh,” I shush, stroking her black curls lightly. Vivi stirs once more and then goes still once more. With that, I tiptoe out of the room before I wake her up again, silently cursing myself for being so thoughtless. Then, I close her door with a light click, and continue tiptoeing until I’m downstairs and out of earshot.

I glance at my watch.

9:54.

Jared said that he’d be home at ten o’clock, but then again, he could be late. It’s hard to tell with all the traffic. Plus, I don’t even know what kind of event he’s at, so he might get held up.

“What should I do with myself?” I wonder aloud. My voice sounds eerily loud in the large house, and part of me wants to explore, to be honest. It’s so nosy, right? But I want to learn more about the handsome billionaire, so I head into the living room, figuring that if I am caught looking around, it won’t seem too weird in that particular room.

Stepping inside, I look around. It’s a sumptuous space with a fireplace, a stunning wooden mantelpiece, and tall floor to ceiling windows decorated with elegant ivory drapes. Tasteful furniture is scattered about and in the corner, a gorgeous decorative statue stands on a pedestal. I move in for a closer look and see that it’s a bejeweled tiger figurine, small but elegant. Wow. The eyes look to be made of amber, and I wonder idly how much it costs. This could be an antique, definitely, judging from the patina on the tiger’s body.