Mr. Everything: A Billionaire and the Nanny Romance

“Don’t mock me, boy.” He points a finger at me. “You wouldn’t be where you are now if not for my money or my name.”

“Maybe, but now it’s my money and my name and my troubles are my own.”

“Do you really think we want to worry about your problems?” Lloyd asks, approaching the desk. “Do you think we want our business partners to bring up your failures?”

“I’m sure it makes for interesting conversations,” I say, unfazed.

I’m bored, actually. I can’t remember how many times we’ve had this conversation.

“You will divorce that woman, and we will say that the newspaper made a mistake,” my father says, his expression stern.

I shake my head. “I’m sorry, but no.”

“She’s a nobody!”

“So why is everyone worried so much about her?” I place my hands on my desk. “What can she do to you, huh? What has she ever done to you?”

“She can ruin you and all of us,” my father points out. “What if she runs away with all your money? Haven’t you thought of that?”

“Thank you for your concern but she won’t,” I assure him.

“Please tell me you had her sign a pre-nup,” Lloyd says, one hand on his hip.

“Yes, I did.”

“It doesn’t matter,” my father says. “She’s not fit to be a Brewster!”

“Then we’re both alike.”

My father just shakes his head. Lloyd looks like he wants to say something but suddenly, the door opens and my mother and sister enter.

Great. More family.

“Look what that bitch’s dog did to me.” Helena gestures to the muddy paw prints on the front of her jumpsuit.

I try not to laugh. “Well, first of all, that bitch is my wife. Second, the dog isn’t hers. It’s David’s.”

“David should come with me,” my mother says. “That woman is not fit to be his mother.”

I sigh. “Mother, please calm down. David isn’t going anywhere. He’s my son and Sabrina – that’s her name, please call her that – isn’t going anywhere, either. She’s my wife now. She’s indispensable.”

Helena narrows her eyes. “But she said she’s not pregnant. Is she really that good in bed?”

I stand up, going to her. “You may be married now and you may have kids now but you haven’t changed. You’re still as spiteful as ever.”

“And you’re a fool.”

“Fine. I’ll answer. She is amazing in bed. Now, can you say the same for yourself?”

She snarls. “Fuck you.”

“Stop it,” my father says, getting up with the help of his cane. “We’re leaving. We shouldn’t have come.”

“Why did you?” I ask, putting my hands in my pockets.

“How dare you not invite us to your wedding?” my mother says.

“But the last time I invited you, you didn’t come. So, I thought, why bother?”

“We came because we wanted to see with our own eyes if you’ve really made a fool of yourself again,” Lloyd says as he helps my mother. “We hoped it was not the case. We hoped to save you but now, we see it’s hopeless.”

“You don’t have to save me, older brother,” I tell him. “I’m not in trouble. I just married a wonderful woman. I think our marriage may last even longer than your first one did.”

His jaw clenches.

“Why, oh why, did I have a son like you?” my father says as he leaves the room. “I told you, Jackie, we should have just stuck with two children.”

“Well, it wasn’t my fault you insisted on fucking me when I said it was risky,” she says.

I slap my forehead. Really?

“Come on,” I tell them. “Every family needs a black sheep, right?”

They don’t answer, leaving. As soon as they’re gone, I go back to my chair, swiveling it to face the window and sitting back, sighing.

What a morning and what a family. I’m glad I don’t live with them anymore. I’m glad I have David and Sabrina now.

Sabrina.

I stand up. Maybe I should go and talk to her.





***

I find her in one of the guest bedrooms, reading a book.

“Are they gone?” she asks when she sees me.

I chuckle, handing her one of the mugs of coffee in my hand. “Is that what you’re doing here? Hiding?”

“I’m not hiding,” she argues, putting her book down so she can take the mug with both hands. “I just didn’t want to see them. There’s a difference.”

“I see.”

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude or anything. They are your family. It’s just…”

“Hey.” I put my hand over one of hers as I sit on the bed beside her. “You don’t have to explain a thing. I know how they are. Each time I think I’ve forgotten, they remind me.”

“Have they always been like that?” she asks.

“Mean? Thinking that they are the only ones who are perfect? Yes.” I nod. “They’ve always looked down on me.”

“Well, if they look down on you, then what’s the hope for the rest of us?”

I chuckle, squeezing her hand. “Don’t mind them. Anyway, they’re not the ones you married. I am.”

“I feel guilty, though. I did marry you for your…”

I press a finger to her lips. “We both thought it was best for us to marry and so we did. Let that be the end of it.”

“But…”

“Do you want to kiss me again? Because I want to kiss you.”

She smiles. “You’re right. I shouldn’t pay attention to them. I just told myself I’m not going to let fear run my life.”

“That’s good.”

“But you can still kiss me if you want.”

I do that, placing my hand on the back of her neck and pressing my lips to hers, slipping my tongue in between to taste her. As I do, I feel a jolt of heat go through my body.

Damn. I want to fuck her again. Right now.

But I can’t stay long or Tess will kill me.

Sabrina pulls away, smiling before she takes a sip of her coffee. “Did Helena tell you what Zombie did?”

“She showed me.”

She chuckles.

“I thought it was funny, too.”

“At first, I felt bad that I smelled like a dog since I just finished bathing Zombie but it wouldn’t have made a difference, would it?”

I shake my head. “You could smell like Chanel no.5 and Helena would still have turned her plastic nose up at you.”

“Plastic?”

“Honestly, I can’t remember how many surgeries she’s had done to her face. For sure, she wasn’t always that pretty. Why, she had so much acne when she was a teenager and she had crooked teeth, too.”

Sabrina laughs.

I sip my coffee and as I do, I glance at the book she’s reading. What catches my attention, though, is the pen and paper beneath it.

“Are you writing something?” I ask her.

“A song,” she confesses. “Lately, I’ve been feeling so many different emotions and experiencing new things that I think make good lyrics for a song.”

“Wow.”

“It’s just lyrics, though. I can’t write a song without a guitar.”

“Then I’ll buy you one. Just look for one online and use my card.”

“What?” She gives me a look of disbelief.

I nod. “Consider it a wedding present.”

Sabrina gives a radiant smile. “Thank you. I’d love to play the guitar again.”

“And I’d love to hear you play. Maybe you can teach David, too, if he likes.”

She nods, taking another sip of her coffee. “I plan to talk to him when he comes home later. Wish me luck?”

I hold her hand. “I know everything will be all right.”





Music


Sabrina

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