The Millionaire Affair

By: Jessica Lemmon



He started to ask about Kimber’s credentials, then something Angel said earlier crawled out of his subconscious. “Wait, did you say ‘live-in’?”

“Of course.” He pictured her shrugging. “You’ll need someone to bathe Lyon and feed him dinner at night in case you need to work late at the office. And in the morning, you won’t want to wait for her to arrive. What if she catches a late train? Then your progress will be impeded.”

She was being a smartass, but she had a point. If Kimber were here with Lyon taking care of the day-to-day, Landon could focus on work and be home in time to play with Lyon or tuck him in. But a woman living in his penthouse? Not that his place was small. At six thousand square feet, it’d easily hold the three of them. Before Lissa had moved out following the video debacle, she and Landon could go hours without so much as running into one another. But living with a stranger?

“I don’t know, Ang. Has Kimber… done this sort of thing before?” Cared for the nephew of a bachelor workaholic millionaire whose fiancée dumped him for a D-list actor?

“Of course!”

He recalled Kimber’s unruly hair, braces, her affinity for Stephen King. Surely living with her wouldn’t be the same as living with Lissa. Kimber wasn’t his girlfriend, wasn’t his lover, wasn’t his anything. He’d pay her to do a job, she’d show up to do it, and then they could part ways and live their separate lives. Without exposing him to humiliating YouTube videos popping up online and on his employees’ smartphones.

“Admit it. I’m brilliant,” Angel said.

He smiled. “Never.”

“Admit it and I’ll ask her,” she sang.

“I could always give it one more day.” He was kidding, but he wouldn’t give in right away. Where was the fun in that?

A sound, suspiciously resembling a toy monster truck crashing through the new sixty-inch LED television, came from the direction of the bedroom. Followed by a penetrating silence and a quiet, Oops.

He trekked down the hall, mentally preparing himself for the electronic carnage he would likely encounter. Lyon poked his head out of the bedroom, shoulders down, eyes wide, a sickly expression on his face.

Landon managed a small, if not pained, smile for his rambunctious nephew, who looked everywhere but at him.

“Fine,” Landon told Angel as he put a supportive hand on Lyon’s little shoulder. “You’re brilliant.”

“Really?” she cooed.

“Really,” he admitted. He held his breath, peeked in the room, and confirmed that, yes, the LED had indeed met its demise. God rest its electronic soul.

On a heavy exhale, Landon said, “Ask her.”





CHAPTER TWO


Me? Babysit?” Kimber couldn’t say the word without laughing. But seriously. Her with a child? It was ridiculous.

Angel lifted a turquoise silk shirt and held it up to her chest. “Does this bring out my eyes?” She’d come into town for a meeting at Landon’s behest, and somewhere between the plane ride and a cab, managed to convince herself that Kimber—who had no experience with children whatsoever—should be in charge of her nephew.

Kimber took the top out of Angel’s hands and hung it back up. “You know it does.”

Angel rolled her eyes. “Anyway, it’s not babysitting. It’s a nanny position.”

“Oh, that’s so different.” She turned to walk away.

“It is!” Angel followed. “Nannies are sophisticated.”

And now her friend was reaching. Kimber plopped down onto the goldenrod, button-top ottoman at the rear of the store. Angel stood over her, hands on her narrow hips, the Downey look of determination lighting her blue eyes.

Kimber would have to give her a reason. Angel was terrier-with-a-chew-toy tenacious. And a little rabid when challenged. “I can’t leave Hobo Chic for an entire week.” Which was so not the issue. The issue was her… with a kid. A kid she didn’t know. That’s not the issue, either. It wasn’t. Not by a long shot.

Her friend elevated her arms and did a neat little turn. “You’re telling me none of your employees can handle this place while you’re gone? What do they do when you have a day off? What did they do when you came to visit me in Tennessee last month?”

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