The Nanny, The Billionaire, and His 6 Year Old Negotiator

The lobby smelled expensive. Not in a perfume-and-polish way. More like the kind of place where people never look at price tags. White marble floors stretched in every direction, and the elevators moved so quietly they barely seemed real. I glanced down at my thrift-store blazer and immediately regretted wearing it. The security guard's eyes lingered on me for a second too long. Great. I was twenty-three minutes late. Mom's chemotherapy appointment had started at nine. The interview was scheduled for ten. The bus got stuck in traffic. Life happened. And life didn't care about interviews. "Miss Carter?" The receptionist didn't bother standing. "Mr. Kade will see you now. Eightieth floor." Her expression turned sympathetic. "He doesn't like people being late." Of course, he didn't. The elevator ride felt longer than it probably was. When the doors opened, I stepped into complete silence. Not office silence. Rich people are silent. The kind where nobody slammed doors, nobody answered phones, and nobody laughed too loudly. The office at the end of the hallway had floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. A man stood in front of them with his back toward me. And a little boy sat on the corner of a massive desk. The boy wore a tiny suit. An actual suit. He was sipping from a juice box while drawing on a stack of papers. "You are late," he announced without looking up. A red crayon moved across the page. "Minus ten points." I blinked. The man turned around. Adrian Kade. Even I knew who he was. Thirty-four years old. CEO of Kade Capital. Financial magazines loved him. Business channels talked about him constantly. In person, he looked less like a billionaire and more like someone who hadn't smiled in years. "You are the nanny?" he asked. "I'm the nanny who can start immediately." I set my bag carefully on the floor. Something told me the leather chair in front of his desk probably cost more than my car. "It also said punctuality was important," he replied. I rubbed the back of my neck. "My mom's chemo appointment ran late." The words slipped out before I could stop them. Wonderful. Nothing screamed professional like oversharing during a job interview. I cleared my throat. "I can be punctual tomorrow." For a moment, nobody spoke. Then the boy looked up. Bright blue eyes. Far too intelligent. "Dad says excuses are expensive." "Dad sounds fun." The kid actually laughed. A tiny snort escaped him. The first real human sound in the room. Interesting. "Leo conducts the first interviews," Adrian said. "If Leo approves of you, then I ask questions." I stared. "You let a six-year-old interview employees?" "I'm six and a half," Leo corrected. He slid a sheet of paper across the desk. The title read: CONTRACT Written in giant red crayon. There were dinosaurs drawn around the edges. "Question one," he said seriously. "What's your name?" "Claire Carter." He scribbled something. "Question two. Do you cry during movies?" I hesitated. "Depends on the movie." "Wrong answer." "Question three. Credit score." I nearly choked. "My what?" "My dad checks everybody's." I looked at Adrian. He didn't deny it. That was somehow worse. Leo nodded thoughtfully. "Question four. Why do you want this job?" The answer came instantly. Because my mother's treatment bills were destroying us. Because my younger brother was sleeping on my couch. Because I hadn't slept properly in months. Because I was running out of options. Instead, I smiled. "Because I like kids." Leo immediately pointed his crayon at me. "Lie." I laughed despite myself. "Was it that obvious?" "Very." He made another note. Then he looked at his father. "Negative five points." "Can she still pass?" Adrian asked. Leo considered this carefully. "She's the only applicant who made me laugh." Apparently that counted. Adrian stepped closer to the desk. "The position isn't actually for Leo." I frowned. "What does that mean?" His expression didn't change. "I need a wife." For a second I wondered if I had misheard him. A wife? Not a nanny. Not an assistant. A wife. The room suddenly felt very warm. Leo kicked his legs. "Dad needs custody." The words came out casually, as if he were discussing the weather. "My grandma is trying to take me." I looked between father and son. Neither seemed to think this was a normal conversation. "The court wants stability," Adrian explained. "A family environment. Six months." "So..." Understanding hit me. Slowly. "No." His eyebrow lifted. "No?" "I came here for a job." "It is a job." My laugh sounded slightly hysterical. "Marriage is not a job." "It is when I'm paying two million dollars." Silence. Complete silence. My heart stopped. Two million dollars. Not twenty thousand. Not two hundred thousand. Two million. Enough to pay every hospital bill. Enough to save Mom's treatment. Enough to breathe again. I hated that my first reaction wasn't outrage. It was temptation. "What is the catch?" I asked quietly. "Leo." Adrian glanced toward his son. For the first time, something softened in his face. Just for a second. Then it vanished. "He doesn't trust many people." Leo climbed down from the desk and walked toward me. When he stopped, he looked impossibly small. Just a little boy. Not a tiny executive. Not a miniature lawyer. Just a kid. "Rule number one," he said. "You have to act like my mom at school." I swallowed. "Why?" "Because Mrs. Henderson gives extra cookies to moms." That answer hurt more than it should have. He held out the crayon contract. "Rule number two." I took the paper. "You have to marry Dad." I looked up. Adrian was watching me carefully. Not like a business person. Not like a billionaire. Like a father running out of options. And somehow that made it harder. I thought about Mom. About the overdue bills. About every door that had closed in my face. Leo reached for my hand. Then he grabbed his father's hand too. Before either of us could react, he shoved them together. His face lit up. "Now say it." "Say what?" I asked. "The TV part." Adrian sighed. The first hint of exhaustion I'd seen from him. Then he looked at me. "You are hired." His hand remained around mine. "And apparently," he added dryly, "my wife." Leo cheered. Somewhere along the way, he had produced a plastic Spider-Man ring. He shoved it onto my finger. It was several sizes too large. I stared at it. "It's too big." Leo grinned. Before Adrian could respond. "Don't worry." His smile widened. "You'll grow into it."