Billionaire Mountain Man - Page 143

“Thanks,” I said.

“I’ll think about it. I’m going to check out some nanny jobs in the area first.”

“No problemo,” she said.

“What are you up to this afternoon ?” I asked.

“I’m working until two, and then I’m going home to take a nap. I’m exhausted from staying out at that show last night. Too bad you didn’t come.”

“You know metal bands aren’t my thing,” I said.

“They don’t have to be your thing to have a fun time. Besides, the musicians are super-hot.”

“I’m sure they are under all that eyeliner,” I said. “I’ll probably head home and do some job research. Want to come by the apartment later? We can do takeout and rent a movie?”

“Only if I get to pick the movie,” Sierra said.

“Sure.” Sierra preferred the horror genre, but I was sure I could convince her of something less gory.

“I’ll text you later,” Sierra said.

“See ya,” I said and headed out of the shop. As much as Sierra didn’t care about interrupting her work day, I knew the Baker brothers did. And if there was an off-chance I’d work there, I didn’t want to ruin my chances from the start. Though I hoped another long-term opportunity came up for me soon. I didn’t like jumping from job to job, especially when there was a child involved.

The rain had let up by the time I left Sierra to her work of organizing the latest shipment of records. I couldn’t believe the place was still in business with the invention of digital music. But from what Sierra told me about the clientele was that collectors were willing to pay a lot of money for the vintage records. And it helped that the Baker brothers inherited the building from their father who started the business.

Thinking of their family brought forward a flash of memories of mine, which I quickly pushed away. There was no need to think of the reason I’d left Australia, especially now when things were about to get more complicated after my recent unemployment.

I popped over to the local coffee shop around the corner and grabbed a coffee and an egg sandwich before heading home. I promised myself starting tomorrow that I would keep track of what I spent on unnecessary items. I could easily make food at home, but I enjoyed it more when someone made it for me.

The moment I got into my car, it started to rain again. I flipped on the wipers and pulled out of my spot. It was only halfway through April, and I was sick of the rain. And coupled with the cooler temperatures, going outside was not my favorite thing to do. At least with Ricky, if we needed to stay inside, his house was massive enough for us never to be bored.

Thinking of that blue-eyed little darling made tears spring to my eyes. Of course, I was happy that he was growing up and no longer needed someone to care for him as much, but not seeing his face each day was taking a toll on me.

When I got home, I raced across the lot to my building through torrents of rain. By the time I reached the door, the rain soaked through my brown paper bag and my coffee sloshed over the side of the cup from me jostling it.

I groaned and shoved my key into the front door, pushing through into the small lobby.

I took the two flights of stairs since the elevator had been out for over a week now. I was grateful I only lived on the second floor versus any of the higher levels.

Inside my studio apartment, I dropped the coffee and bag on the counter and kicked off my shoes while pulling off my jacket. Both of them left a puddle on my floor, but I was too hungry to bother with it at the moment.

I lifted the sandwich from the bag, the paper falling apart in my hand. I grabbed my coffee and the wrapped sandwich and flopped onto the couch, lifting my damp feet onto the coffee table. I flipped on the television to veg out for a little while. I turned on a recorded medical drama and got lost in the stories of the hot doctors and their many sexy affairs.

I allowed myself one episode before I got to work. I had the afternoon to get my resume out to as many nanny positions as I could. Even though it was Friday, I wanted potential families to have my information as soon as possible, even if they chose to wait until after the weekend to contact me. At least doing something productive toward another job would ease my mind more than sitting around twiddling my thumbs.

I went over to the kitchen table and sat down, opening my laptop. I didn’t have room in the apartment for a separate office, but since I lived alone, I wasn’t fighting anyone for space. Since my job didn’t require a home office, the kitchen table was good enough for the rare times I went onto the computer.

I pulled up a job website and typed “nanny” into the search bar along with my location details. The next page pulled up over a hundred results. I smiled. Finding a new job was going to be easy.

I grabbed the pad of paper I kept on the table along with a pen to jot down the information on prospective families.

The first position was looking for a nanny of four children, all of them under the age of five. I liked kids, but I was sure I wouldn’t be able to handle that, at least not without another pair of hands.

I went to the next one and from there on was a string of jobs that weren’t what I was looking for. Sure, they were all nanny positions, but many of them didn’t offer the pay I wanted, or there were too many kids. A few had age requirements for women above forty. I was sure they wouldn’t appreciate a twenty-six-year-old woman applying.

There were several I marked down, but by the end of the afternoon, I hadn’t applied to any of them. For some reason, I had a feeling I should hold off. Sierra’s words came into my mind about taking a break. As much as I wanted to get back to work, from my search, I knew there were plenty of jobs out there for a nanny. So what if I took a week off to get back to center again before jumping into another job? Most nanny positions were more than full time. I enjoyed working, but I did deserve a break.

I was very protective of my money, but I had enough in my savings to live on for several months. I wouldn’t push it to the end of my limits, but I could manage to take a little time for myself.

Tags: Claire Adams Billionaire Romance
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