Fearless In Love
Page 2
How had that affected Matt and Noah?
“One of Noah’s previous nannies had a boyfriend she constantly talked with on the phone when she should have been paying attention to my son. Will that be a problem for you?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend, or unlimited texting and minutes on my cell phone.” She couldn’t afford a smartphone, and she’d signed up for the cheapest service plan she could get. “So you definitely won’t find me distracted by my phone.”
“I’m glad to hear that. How many children do you currently babysit?”
Interesting that he wanted to know more about her actual experience with children rather than what she’d taken in school, but she knew that book smarts weren’t always the same as hands-on learning. “Six, but only part time for each. One is my best friend’s little boy. She’s a single mom, and I help out with Jorge.” Ari gave it the Spanish pronunciation: Hor-hay. She loved Jorge and didn’t charge Rosie. “I also work for four women in the South Bay who aren’t working moms, taking care of their kids when they’ve got errands or appointments. I wouldn’t be leaving them in the lurch if I came to work for you.” She didn’t want him to think she’d dump him if a better opportunity came along. “I’ve got friends who would love to work for them. I’d just have to make arrangements.” It would be difficult leaving the kids, but she needed the full-time job. Both Daniel and the moms understood that, though it was harder for the kids to accept. “They all said they’d give you references.”
“I’d like to speak with them.”
She fished in her bag for the list. “Here you go.” Their hands brushed, and she went warm all over.
As he looked over the names, numbers, and addresses, she noted that he had sun lines at his eyes, and she wondered if he swam with Noah in the huge kidney-shaped pool she’d seen through the French doors. Or maybe they spent time in the playground out back, with its swings, slides, monkey bars, and huge sandbox.
He was rich. He could give his son anything that was for sale. But she hoped he gave his son time too.
Looking back up at her, he asked, “How long have you been babysitting?”
“Since I was sixteen.” Not counting the foster homes where she’d taken care of the younger kids.
“And you’re twenty-four now?” He frowned slightly as he said her age, but before she became worried, he said, “Eight years is good experience.”
She smiled, then dove in with her own question. “What would my duties be?”
“You would get Noah up in the morning, take him to school. He started kindergarten this year, and he’s attending a private school in Almaden Valley.”
That was twenty-five minutes away. She thought about the morning commute traffic and how brutal it was as more companies moved into Silicon Valley.
As if he could see the thought bubble over her head, he said, “My driver Doreen would drive you when you take Noah out.” Matt Tremont and his son lived a life she’d seen only on TV, with private drivers and mansions. “You would also be responsible for his nutrition. I have a cook, but I’d want you to make sure he’s eating healthy.”
Nutrition had been part of her education. “No treats?”
He smiled for the first time. And she stopped breathing.
Literally stopped.
No one should be allowed that much gorgeousness. She would see that smile in her dreams.
“Treats were my favorite thing as a kid. Probably because I didn’t get many.” He said it with a laugh, but she wasn’t sure she bought the way he tried to play off his difficult childhood with a smile. Ari hadn’t grown up with much either—and she’d also learned how to smile through it. “In any case,” he continued, “treats are fine every now and then, but I don’t want him gorging on candy and soda.” With that, he went on with her duties. “He’s only in school in the morning, so I would want you to devise lesson plans for the afternoon. Trips to the zoo and other activities that teach him would be great. He’s learning to swim, and I’d want you to continue, as long as he’s got his water wings on.”
A commotion in the hall drowned out the rest of Matt’s list—a young voice, the stomp of running feet. For a little boy, Noah Tremont made big noise, which she loved.
He flew around the corner, sliding on the hardwood floor until his toes hit the rug. “Daddy, Daddy, you gotta see!” A moment later, he saw Ari. “I know you.”
“We met a month ago at the house your daddy was building with his friends.”
Noah had a mop of hair as dark as his father’s and cheeks that hadn’t lost their baby roundness yet. He ran around the coffee table and flung himself at her on the sofa, grabbing her hand. “You gotta see too.”
“Noah,” Matt interrupted. “We’re in a meeting.”
A harried older woman appeared in the doorway, wisps of hair flying out of a bun that had probably been neat that morning. This must be the temp Matt said he’d brought in while he was searching for a full-time nanny. “Mr. Tremont, I’m sorry. Noah, come here.” Her voice was more tired than annoyed.
But Noah was too excited to listen. Ari plucked him up and set him on her lap, a wriggling bundle of boundless energy. He was adorable. She wanted to spend her days with someone so happy and sweet, take him to the zoo, chase butterflies, teach him the names of birds.
“You know”—she gave Noah the biggest smile—“it’s nice to let people finish what they’re saying. So as soon as your dad’s done talking, then you can show us whatever you want.”
“It’s my new Lego set Jeremy gave me!” He couldn’t stop bouncing. Ari remembered Jeremy from the day at the youth home, a sweet young man—a brother of one of the other Mavericks, maybe?
“All righty then. We’ll finish up, then you can show us your Lego.” She gave Noah a solemn look. “I’m a Lego master, by the way.”
“Cool, me too!” He nodded vigorously, his curls bouncing. Then he stopped and bit his lip, and she was struck by how much of a mini-Matt he was. “I forgot your name.”
“It’s Ari.”
He beamed at her. Yup, the kid version of his dad’s smile. “I like your name.” With that, he hopped off her lap.
“One of Noah’s previous nannies had a boyfriend she constantly talked with on the phone when she should have been paying attention to my son. Will that be a problem for you?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend, or unlimited texting and minutes on my cell phone.” She couldn’t afford a smartphone, and she’d signed up for the cheapest service plan she could get. “So you definitely won’t find me distracted by my phone.”
“I’m glad to hear that. How many children do you currently babysit?”
Interesting that he wanted to know more about her actual experience with children rather than what she’d taken in school, but she knew that book smarts weren’t always the same as hands-on learning. “Six, but only part time for each. One is my best friend’s little boy. She’s a single mom, and I help out with Jorge.” Ari gave it the Spanish pronunciation: Hor-hay. She loved Jorge and didn’t charge Rosie. “I also work for four women in the South Bay who aren’t working moms, taking care of their kids when they’ve got errands or appointments. I wouldn’t be leaving them in the lurch if I came to work for you.” She didn’t want him to think she’d dump him if a better opportunity came along. “I’ve got friends who would love to work for them. I’d just have to make arrangements.” It would be difficult leaving the kids, but she needed the full-time job. Both Daniel and the moms understood that, though it was harder for the kids to accept. “They all said they’d give you references.”
“I’d like to speak with them.”
She fished in her bag for the list. “Here you go.” Their hands brushed, and she went warm all over.
As he looked over the names, numbers, and addresses, she noted that he had sun lines at his eyes, and she wondered if he swam with Noah in the huge kidney-shaped pool she’d seen through the French doors. Or maybe they spent time in the playground out back, with its swings, slides, monkey bars, and huge sandbox.
He was rich. He could give his son anything that was for sale. But she hoped he gave his son time too.
Looking back up at her, he asked, “How long have you been babysitting?”
“Since I was sixteen.” Not counting the foster homes where she’d taken care of the younger kids.
“And you’re twenty-four now?” He frowned slightly as he said her age, but before she became worried, he said, “Eight years is good experience.”
She smiled, then dove in with her own question. “What would my duties be?”
“You would get Noah up in the morning, take him to school. He started kindergarten this year, and he’s attending a private school in Almaden Valley.”
That was twenty-five minutes away. She thought about the morning commute traffic and how brutal it was as more companies moved into Silicon Valley.
As if he could see the thought bubble over her head, he said, “My driver Doreen would drive you when you take Noah out.” Matt Tremont and his son lived a life she’d seen only on TV, with private drivers and mansions. “You would also be responsible for his nutrition. I have a cook, but I’d want you to make sure he’s eating healthy.”
Nutrition had been part of her education. “No treats?”
He smiled for the first time. And she stopped breathing.
Literally stopped.
No one should be allowed that much gorgeousness. She would see that smile in her dreams.
“Treats were my favorite thing as a kid. Probably because I didn’t get many.” He said it with a laugh, but she wasn’t sure she bought the way he tried to play off his difficult childhood with a smile. Ari hadn’t grown up with much either—and she’d also learned how to smile through it. “In any case,” he continued, “treats are fine every now and then, but I don’t want him gorging on candy and soda.” With that, he went on with her duties. “He’s only in school in the morning, so I would want you to devise lesson plans for the afternoon. Trips to the zoo and other activities that teach him would be great. He’s learning to swim, and I’d want you to continue, as long as he’s got his water wings on.”
A commotion in the hall drowned out the rest of Matt’s list—a young voice, the stomp of running feet. For a little boy, Noah Tremont made big noise, which she loved.
He flew around the corner, sliding on the hardwood floor until his toes hit the rug. “Daddy, Daddy, you gotta see!” A moment later, he saw Ari. “I know you.”
“We met a month ago at the house your daddy was building with his friends.”
Noah had a mop of hair as dark as his father’s and cheeks that hadn’t lost their baby roundness yet. He ran around the coffee table and flung himself at her on the sofa, grabbing her hand. “You gotta see too.”
“Noah,” Matt interrupted. “We’re in a meeting.”
A harried older woman appeared in the doorway, wisps of hair flying out of a bun that had probably been neat that morning. This must be the temp Matt said he’d brought in while he was searching for a full-time nanny. “Mr. Tremont, I’m sorry. Noah, come here.” Her voice was more tired than annoyed.
But Noah was too excited to listen. Ari plucked him up and set him on her lap, a wriggling bundle of boundless energy. He was adorable. She wanted to spend her days with someone so happy and sweet, take him to the zoo, chase butterflies, teach him the names of birds.
“You know”—she gave Noah the biggest smile—“it’s nice to let people finish what they’re saying. So as soon as your dad’s done talking, then you can show us whatever you want.”
“It’s my new Lego set Jeremy gave me!” He couldn’t stop bouncing. Ari remembered Jeremy from the day at the youth home, a sweet young man—a brother of one of the other Mavericks, maybe?
“All righty then. We’ll finish up, then you can show us your Lego.” She gave Noah a solemn look. “I’m a Lego master, by the way.”
“Cool, me too!” He nodded vigorously, his curls bouncing. Then he stopped and bit his lip, and she was struck by how much of a mini-Matt he was. “I forgot your name.”
“It’s Ari.”
He beamed at her. Yup, the kid version of his dad’s smile. “I like your name.” With that, he hopped off her lap.
