The Manny Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Manny

  A.T. Brennan

  Published by Mandie Mills, 2018.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dedication and Acknowledgements

  Coming Soon/Now Available

  Copyright

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Cover Artist: A.T. Brennan

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events, or locales or persons, living or dead are entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  For questions and comments about this book, please contact the author at

  [email protected]

  Copyright A.T Brennan © 2017

  All rights reserved.

  Chapter One

  Cameron Adams shielded his aqua eyes from the glaring California sun as he stared up at the house in front of him. He glanced down at the address he’d scribbled on the scrap of paper clutched in his other hand: 2236 Riviera Way. This was the house. This was where he was going to be working. He shoved the paper in his pocket and pulled in a deep breath as he started up the long walkway.

  The house was actually more of a mansion if he wanted to get technical. It was at least four times as big as the house he’d grown up in and sat on a very large plot of land. The lawn was perfectly tended, and the front garden was lush and blooming, even the bushes were trimmed into neat geometric shapes.

  The detached two-car garage looked brand new, the driveway had been recently tarred, and he was reminded of onyx as the sun shone down on the gleaming surface. He could see an older model hatchback wagon parked behind a very new, very shiny and very small silver convertible sports car. There was also a burgundy compact SUV in the driveway.

  The house was beautiful. It was well cared for, and the owners obviously had money, but it looked as though it belonged to a corporate couple or a wealthy retired couple. It didn’t look like a house with children living in it.

  Cameron walked up the steps and stared at the ornate lion’s head door knocker in the center of the oversized door as he fought back a laugh. The lion kind of looked like it was yawning at him. Instead of using the knocker he pushed the doorbell and wasn’t at all surprised to hear a designer doorbell.

  After a moment the door opened, and again Cameron was sure that he was at the wrong house. The older, portly woman in front of him was wearing a brown dress with a white apron and had a dusting rag in her hand. Her graying brown hair was pulled back in a severe bun, but her brown eyes were warm and her face was rounded and mostly unlined despite her advanced age.

  “Can I help you?” she asked as she gave Cameron a friendly smile.

  “Hi,” he started almost cautiously, “my name is Cameron Adams. I’m from Domestic Support Services.”

  “Oh, come in come in.” The woman stepped back and ushered him inside. “We’ve been expecting you.”

  Cameron stepped inside the house and couldn’t help but stare as he looked around the front foyer. Everything was white and marble and gleaming. Hanging down from the second-floor ceiling over the staircase and the prominent focal point of the foyer, was the biggest and most elaborate crystal chandelier he’d ever seen.

  The house was beautiful. It was incredible and it was breathtaking, but again he was sure there had been some sort of mistake. This was the home of a couple; there was no way kids lived here.

  “I’m sorry,” he said to the woman. “I think there’s been some sort of mistake.”

  “What to do you mean?” she asked, a patient smile on her face.

  “I think the agency might have sent me to the wrong house. I’m not a housekeeper or a maid, although that is an offered service. I’m a nanny.”

  “Of course you are.” The woman smiled. “The children are just at school right now. Mr. Meyers is in his study. I’ll go and fetch him. I know he wants to ask you a few questions.”

  “Oh,” he said, stunned. “I’m sorry, it’s just that this house is so... pristine.”

  The woman smiled knowingly. “I’m Mrs. Latham, the Meyers’ housekeeper. I’m here three times a week from ten until two.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, still glancing around the house.

  “Why don’t you have a seat in the sitting room and I’ll send Mr. Meyers down to you. It might be a few minutes. He’s working, and when he gets into it, he loses track of time.” She pointed to the room to the right. “Just make yourself comfortable,” she added before hurrying up the stairs.

  Cautiously Cameron made his way to the room and stepped inside. He glanced around and shook his head. The carpet, silk furniture, marble fireplace, and lamps were all white. The tables were made of glass, and there were crystal figurines elegantly displayed in a mahogany cabinet against the wall. The only contrast in the entire room was the black baby grand piano in the corner, and as he looked around, he was sure that getting comfortable was not going to be an option. There was nothing comfortable about this house, and especially not in this room.

  What had he gotten himself into?

  AS CAMERON PERCHED carefully on the edge of the white silk sofa, he glanced down at his watch. He’d been waiting almost half an hour for Mr. Meyers to show up, and now he was worried that he was sitting in the wrong room. He knew the house was big, but it wasn’t that big.

  He studied the room, trying to pass the time. It was very clean, elegant and white, but it wasn’t comfortable. Everything matched and looked brand new, and expensive.

  If the rest of the house was anything like the foyer and the sitting room, he was positive that no child could ever be comfortable in this house.

  Cameron jumped as a man walked into the room and stared at him.

  He was nothing like the Mr. Meyers Cameron had expected. He’d expected an elegant man in a crisp suit, one who looked as though he woke up perfectly pressed and neatly groomed. For some reason, he’d also pictured him as older and blond.

  He had no idea
why blond, but in his head, his potential employer had been blond.

  Nathan Meyers was none of those things. He was tall, about six foot two if Cameron was to guess, and younger than he’d expected. He looked to be in his midthirties. His rich brown hair had a slight wave to it and was kept long but still neat, and he was lean and broad-shouldered. He seemed too big for the room and definitely too rugged. His skin had a slightly tanned look to it, and he was dressed in a rumpled white shirt and dark wash jeans. He was an incredibly handsome man, but the feature that caught Cameron’s attention were his eyes. They were the most striking shade of gray—not quite blue and not quite steel gray. They looked silver, if that was a possible eye color. There was an intelligence in his eyes, and a wariness that he wouldn’t have expected. Mr. Meyers was a little intimidating with his size and looks, but Cameron couldn’t tear his eyes away from him as he hovered in the doorway.

  Nathan was in a bad mood. He’d spent the better part of the day stuck on a particular chapter, and he was tired from yet another near-sleepless night. When Mrs. Latham had told him the new nanny had arrived he’d been tempted to tell her to send the girl away; she wouldn’t last anyway. After a bit of insisting, he’d saved his work and then spent the next ten minutes trying to find the info sheet and résumé the agency had sent him before giving up and making his way downstairs to meet with her.

  He’d hired twenty-three nannies in the past three years, and all twenty-three of them had quit within a few months. The longest any of them had stayed was twelve weeks, and that had been during the school year. This was the second last day of school, and then his kids would be home for just over two months. He expected to be interviewing at least three other nannies before they went back to class.

  The person sitting on his couch was not what he’d expected. Not only was he not a girl, he was also handsome.

  He was young, although Nathan couldn’t quite place his age. If he’d had to guess, he’d say early twenties. His sandy brown hair was on the longer side and slightly shaggy, but it suited him without making him look unkempt or ratty. His eyes were the most incredible shade of blue-green Nathan had ever seen. They were bright, clear, and the color of the ocean on a calm day. His expression was friendly, but his eyes were reserved. Nathan could see he was wary of him, and that intrigued him.

  When the young man stood up to shake his hand, Nathan’s eyes were drawn to his torso. His waist was slender, his body was thin, but he had wide shoulders and a wiry build.

  He also had one of the best bubble butts Nathan had ever seen pulling at the material of his khaki shorts. He was hot, but young. Too young to approach, but he would look twice if he saw him at a bar.

  “Hi, I’m Cameron Adams,” the younger man said as he shook Nathan’s hand. His grip was firm, and his hand was warm.

  “Nathan Meyers.” He motioned for him to sit back down on the couch and then folded himself into the armchair across from him. He felt too big for the delicate chair, but it was the only other chair in the room, so he had to sit in it.

  “You’re not what I was expecting,” Nathan said honestly as he looked at his new nanny.

  “I get that a lot.” Cameron gave him a tight smile. “Do you have a problem having a male nanny?”

  “No, I just wasn’t expecting it. Anyway, I just have a few questions for you,” Nathan said as he crossed his legs and rested his ankle on his knee. This chair really hadn’t been made for comfort.

  “Of course.”

  “So you’ve been with the agency for two years now?”

  “That’s right.” he nodded.

  “You don’t have a lot of long-term employment listed. Any reason for that?” Nathan asked as he glanced down at the paper in front of him.

  “Most people aren’t looking for full-time help unless it’s over the summer or a holiday. Add that to my being male and gay, and that limits my opportunities.”

  “You’re gay?” Nathan asked, surprised at how open Cameron was. He’d come out in his late teens and was comfortable with his sexuality, but it wasn’t something he announced within the first three minutes of a conversation.

  “Yes, is that a problem?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? Because I’m not going to stay in a position where I’m being questioned or watched because of some bias you might harbor—“

  “It’s not a problem. If it were, I never would have married my husband.” Nathan was taken aback by Cameron’s speech. He had balls, Nathan had to give him that.

  “Your husband... you’re..?”

  “How about we agree that your sexuality is not going to be an issue and move on?”

  “Sure, sorry.”

  “Do you mind if I ask what you were doing before you became a nanny?” Nathan asked, trying not to grin as Cameron blushed bright pink.

  “I worked in a daycare, running the summer and holiday camps and after-school programs for the older kids.”

  “You have your early childhood education license. Why haven’t you used it?”

  “I never found a school willing to hire me.”

  “But you’re a qualified teacher.”

  “I’m also male and gay. Two strikes against me right there.”

  “How many schools did you apply to?”

  “After the second interview, I figured out I’d made a mistake thinking I had a future in education.”

  “But—“

  “I’m not teaching, and this isn’t a school, so can we please focus on my job here?”

  “Of course.” Nathan shook his head. “Other than your time as a nanny and your education, what’s your experience with children?”

  “I have twelve nieces and nephews ranging in ages from nineteen to two.”

  “Twelve? Are you close with your siblings?”

  “Very.” He nodded.

  “Wait,” Nathan cut in, he was having trouble with the math. “You said you have a niece or nephew who’s nineteen?”

  “Nephew, Nick.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-six.”

  “How many siblings do you have?”

  “Four older sisters. Much older sisters,” he added. “I’m the youngest by twelve years; the oldest is nineteen years older than I am.”

  “Oh.” Nathan paused. He really didn’t know what to say to that. “Well, your references couldn’t say enough good things about you, and you’re more than qualified.” He crumpled the papers he was still holding and shoved them in his pocket. “Can you swim?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “We have a pool,” Nathan said as he started to stand. “I’ll bring in your things, and Mrs. Latham can show you around the house.

  “Wait.” Cameron stopped him as Nathan was half in and half out of the chair. “I have a few questions of my own.”

  With an exaggerated sigh, Nathan sat back down.

  Ignoring him, Cameron pulled out a pad of paper and a pen from his pocket and flipped the small notebook open to a new page.

  “The agency didn’t tell me that much about the placement. I understand that there are three children?”

  “Logan’s ten, Daniel’s eight, and Kaitlyn is six.” He nodded.

  “Do any of them have any medical conditions, any allergies or anything that I’ll have to take into account or be prepared for?” he asked.

  Nathan was a little shocked. None of the other nannies had asked him questions. They’d preferred to talk to Mrs. Latham about everything, and he had to admit that he preferred it that way too.

  He sat back and tried to answer Cameron’s questions, trying not to let his frustration show as he kept asking him things Nathan didn’t have answers to.

  After nearly twenty minutes, Nathan was starting to become impatient. Cameron had asked all about the house rules, their schedules, likes, dislikes and what was expected of him. Nathan had had a hard time answering most of the questions and had directed him to talk to Mrs. Latham.

  When Cameron was finally done,
Nathan stood up and moved to the French doors, telling him again that he would bring his bags up to his room while Mrs. Latham showed him around and answered any other questions he had. It had looked as though Cameron had more to say, but Nathan left the room, escaping while he could.

  CAMERON WASN’T IMPRESSED with Nathan Meyers. He’d been stumped by the simplest of questions, and he’d barely gotten any information out of the man. He didn’t even know what the house rules were, or anything about his kids beyond the fact that they were healthy and their names and ages.

  He’d taken the tour with Mrs. Latham and had gotten answers about the kids and his duties as a nanny. The house was way fancier than any he’d ever been in before. Outside of the formal sitting room, there was an informal one, a media room, dining room, a huge kitchen with a bonus room and the basement was actually a separate two-bedroom apartment that Mrs. Latham had called an in-law suite with a full bathroom, kitchen, dining and sitting room.

  The second floor was just as grand. Each of the kid’s rooms had connecting bathrooms, and there was also a spare room, a bathroom, and a library. The last part of the second floor was the master suite that consisted of the master bedroom, the master bathroom, and Mr. Meyers’ study. He’d been told three times that no one was allowed in any of those rooms except Mr. Meyers.

  Every room was perfect, matching and shiny. Even the kid’s rooms looked like they’d been staged for a magazine shoot and not like actual kids lived in them. It was a bit surreal.

  Once he went up the stairs to the third floor, he started to feel better about the job. It was the only part of the house that looked as though it was lived in.

  There was a huge playroom that any kid would feel comfortable in. There were tables and chairs, toys, games, small play structures, corkboards, and chalkboards. The room was divided in sections, and it was organized and well stocked, but he noticed right away that it seemed a little young for a ten- or an eight-year-old.

  There was a sectioned-off area that was split into a locked storage area and his living quarters. His room was small, plain and perfect. There was a double bed, a dresser, a bookshelf, and a small closet. The bathroom had a shower and tub combo, a toilet, a pedestal sink, and a small mirrored medicine cabinet. It was all he needed, and the bonus was it didn’t look as if it belonged in a museum.