I Hate, I Bake, and I Don’t Date! by Alina Jacobs

11

Beck

“It looks like your one o’clock is here,” Cressida said, sticking her head into the room. Then she yelped when Tess pushed past her into my office and slammed the door in Cressida’s face.

“You cannot hire Miss Trunchbull,” she said, pacing around in front of my desk. “She’s vile and mean and all about discipline. The girls don’t like her, and she clearly doesn’t like them.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” I said. I had barely crossed anything off my to-do list today and did not want to have yet another conversation about the nanny situation. I was glad my sisters were back—I just hadn’t planned on being the one to take care of them.

After having an argument with Walker and Owen about salvaging the Mark Holbrook contract or just letting it die, with Owen and Walker advocating for a Hail Mary save, I had spent more unplanned hours trying to put together some semblance of a proposal that would show AstraDrone we were serious about their contract.

“Miss Trunchbull, shit, Ms. Larkin has excellent credentials and decades of experience,” I reminded Tess.

The door opened, banging against the far wall as a very large woman stomped into my office.

“Mr. Svensson,” the nanny boomed. She crossed the room and grabbed my hand in a vice grip. “I don’t like to dillydally. One thing you should know about me is that I am punctual. One o’clock means 12:55 and not a minute later.”

“I do appreciate the punctuality.” I gestured to a seat.

“Is she going to stay here?” Miss Trunchbull asked. Shit! Ms. Larkin. I was going to screw that up. Dammit, Tess. She never should have started calling the nanny that nickname. One more reason I should have let her stay fired.

“I’m his assistant,” Tess said, jaw set stubbornly, “and I’m here to take notes. He’ll want to compare you against the other nannies he’s interviewing.”

“I don’t consider myself a nanny. I’m a governess,” the older woman said, sitting down heavily in the seat across from me. “I consider it my duty to take whiney, spoiled children and turn them into contributing members of society. It’s shameful the way people parent or, rather, don’t these days. In my day, we used to lock children in a closet when they misbehaved.”

She laughed. “Can’t do that anymore, eh? Though if you don’t say anything, I won’t. Those girls of yours, Mr. Svensson—they’re too loud and spirited. But don’t you worry. I’ll break them.”

It was too much. My father and mother had always subscribed to the school of thought that children were something you bent to your will until they were eventually broken into compliant little robots.

I stood up, buttoning my suit jacket.

“Thank you, Miss Trunchbull. Unfortunately, we have quite run out of time.”

Fuck!

Tess let out a loud laugh then clapped both hands over her mouth.

Fuck, fuck!

The nanny stood up. “What did you say?” She tilted her head and peered at me, looking less like a nanny and more like a bird of prey.

No sudden movements…

“It was very nice to meet you, Ms. Larkin. Tess will show you out.”

My phone rang at that moment, and Tess jumped up to open the door.

“We’ll be in touch.”

I answered the phone. “Holy shit,” I said to my brother who was on the other line. “I think you’re my favorite person in the world right now.”

“That’s awesome,” Mike said. Then he paused.

“What’s up?” I prodded

“You never liked your condo much, right?”

I wasin shock when I walked down to the Sparrow and Thyme cafe.

“I was going to bring your tea up,” Tess said. “I had to restart the whole convoluted process.”

I sat down at one of the tables. The girls ran over to me.

“We didn’t do it,” they clamored.

“I know you didn’t,” I said, staring off into space.

“Ohh.” Enola looked at my phone and the video of the water pouring into my condo. “Ophelia shouldn’t be allowed to take a bath by herself. She’s been obsessed with Titanic and is always trying to flood the place.”

She handed the phone back to me matter-of-factly.

“Sorry about your TV. That doesn’t look like it’s going to be salvageable. I hope the nanny Mike hired had insurance.”

“We’re moving anyway,” I said.

Tess set the tea down in front of me.

She and the girls looked at me expectantly as I sipped it.

“So what did you think of the nanny?” Tess prompted.

“The governess, you mean?” I said dryly.

Annie and Enola, wearing little matching aprons, shifted on their feet.

“She’s terrible.” I grimaced. “There’s no way I’m hiring her, especially not after I accidentally called her Miss Trunchbull.”

Tess let out another peal of laughter.

“It’s all your fault,” I reminded her.

“I know, and I’m sorry!” She reached out and stroked her hand over my head, her thumb brushing my temple. Her touch made my scalp tingle.

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” Tess admitted. “She’s totally awful. We’ll find you a better nanny, girls.”

“Actually,” I said, sipping my tea. “I don’t think we’re going to go the nanny route. Considering how poorly that worked out for Mike, maybe we’ll just handle things internally.”

Enola and Annie jumped up and down and hugged me.

Tess gave me a soft look, like she was seeing me for the first time.

“We’re going to stay with you!” Annie said happily.

“You’re going to school, and Tess will watch you after,” I corrected. “The private school has lots of after-school programs, like horseback riding and fencing.”

“But we want to stay with you all day!” my sisters begged.

“You’ll have fun in school,” Tess told them. “And I’m going to make you a super tasty lunch!”