One Son got me a Billionaire

Causing a commotion

I froze.

What did he just call me? I looked at his father, who surprisingly wore a

calm, unreadable expression.

My gaze lingered on him for a while, trying to detect any reactions but none was forthcoming.

Poor boy. He was desperate for a mother.

His father lifted him up, then turned to me. I took it as a cue to leave. I stepped out but lingered in the hall, listening. Curious to what he would tell Max.

“Riele’s your nanny, not your mom,” he said.

I paused, So he knew my name while I had no idea his.

“But embedding the same genetic traits proves the relation between two people, right?” Max asked, leaving me surprised at how brilliant he actually was.

His father chuckled lightly for the first time, since I began working in this house.

“You’re not entirely wrong. What similar traits do you see in her?”

“We both have the same hair.”

“Just that?” his father asked. Raising a brow at his son's logic. “What else?”

“Alright, let me guess. Same eye color?” Max's father speculated amusedly.

Max nodded hysterically. “Yeah! That’s right, Dad.”

That explains why Max had scrutinized my face. I was touched by his words.

Seeing the two of them living alone, I couldn’t help but feel sad. Where was his mother?

Since I was a live-in Nanny, I couldn't leave to find ways to access my Email which left me in unrest, not until the next day which was weekend.

I finally managed to log in after going over to my best friend's and read through the rest of the message. The interview was scheduled for Monday.

Another problem. I was to drop Max off at school as usual. I began figuring out how and still make it in time.

“Girl, which is more important? It’s up to you to decide,” Brenda said, sipping her shake.

We’ve been friends since college, despite our different backgrounds. She came from a humble family in the distribution business, while mine was a sharp contrast.

“Nothing’s going to stop me from attending that interview. I just have to be careful until I get my salary,” I replied, determination laced in my tone.

“That’s a good plan.” Brenda replied, nodding her head in approval.

“The house your agent got for me allows installment payments, so that’s how we managed to move. I have to pay the second half next week, after I receive my salary,” I said.

“How were you able to pay the first half?” Brenda asked. “I hope you didn't go borrowing from those guys.” she asked knowingly.

Brenda never hesitated to help me in any way she could but I knew she had recently lost a huge amount of money into her obsession with trading online so I couldn't afford to ask her for money.

“It's the money I've saved up from those part time jobs I did in the past.” I said, my words far from the truth.

“Oh alright. Isn’t there anyone else who could take the child to school?”

“Nope,” I answered while I racked my brain.

“How come?” she asked with a hint of surprise.

“There’s only the chauffeur and two caretakers. Dropping him off at school is one of my responsibilities,” I explained.

“The man seems very cautious. He doesn’t let a lot of people around him,”

“As expected of a man of his status. They’re always guarded to prevent harm,” Brenda responded.

“He doesn’t have a family?” she asked.

“Of course he should. Maybe he just prefers to be alone,” I reasoned. Of course he should have a family. My thoughts wandered, why wasn't he living with them? and also why haven't one of them come visiting.

“We shouldn’t even stress about this. You could just call and say you’re sick and need to go to the hospital. Problem solved,” Brenda suggested.

“I never got his number,” I muttered, drumming lightly on the table.

At dawn on the day of the interview, I was knocking on Max’s father’s ornate carved door but there was no reply.

I grew slightly worried, he was a workaholic, always staying up late and rising early.

I hesitated for a few minutes before I twisted the knob. It made a slight sound as I quietly peeked in. The room reflected masculine taste. I entered quietly and closed the door without a sound.

The bed was unruffled. Could he have been away last night?

At the corner of my eye, a framed photo sat on his bedside table. A bubbly child, smiling widely, with a woman standing behind him.

Curiosity got the best out of me and I picked it up, studying the picture. Was this Max’s mom?

But looking at it more, the kid in the picture had dirty blonde hair. It only meant that was Max’s dad and that woman, being his mother.

I found it somewhat unbelievable. This lively, cheerful child in the frame was the same man who always appeared aloof.

“What are you doing here?”

I jolted, dropping the frame, but he caught it swiftly. His face loomed really close I could smell his cologne. I couldn’t move without dropping on the bed. The situation felt awkward.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were inside…” I apologized but quickly corrected myself or it would look like I had the motive to steal from him.

“I mean… I’m not feeling well and need to go to the hospital right now, but I have to take Max to school,” I added, coughing lightly for my excuse to be plausible.

He looked fixedly at me as if trying to read through it.

I would be the happiest woman alive if I got this job.

Trust me, It was suffocating to be anywhere near him, all the more reason I couldn’t afford to miss the interview.

I coughed again, more forcibly this time. He took two steps back.

“You may leave,” he said finally.

I faked a strained voice. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, sir,” and headed toward the door.

“Tell the driver to take you to the hospital. He knows where to go,” he suddenly said, and my steps halted.

“Oh, there’s no need for that, sir. I already have a fixed appointment at another hospital,” I replied and dashed out the door.

It didn't take me too much time to get prepared, I branched a shop and got changed into the corporate wear I brought along with me.

That was what I had to do in order not to arouse suspicion.

While waiting for an Uber, a boy approached me. His hair was damp, clothes ragged, and face smudged with dirt. He looked young.

“Have you got some change? I haven’t eaten since yesterday,” he begged.

The money I had was for transportation, but I couldn’t ignore him. I glanced at the time, the interview started in thirty minutes.

“Here,” I handed him a portion of what I had. It should cover a small meal.

His worn out face brightened as he stared at the money in his hands, moving away to get something to eat.

Then I rushed toward the nearest bus stop, unable to afford an Uber anymore.

I wanted to ask him what happened to his parents, but time wouldn’t allow it.

Panting, I was finally at Swales Corp entrance, fifteen minutes before my interview.

The lobby was busy yet solemn, the atmosphere, professional.

I smiled seemingly fulfilled. Who wouldn’t want a job here?

I was then directed to the interview venue and saw five other candidates. Immediately, my hope shrank by sixty percent. Nevertheless, was still happy.

“Good morning,” I greeted, plopping into a chair.

And after a while of maintaining composure admist nervousness, the interview didn't commence. Now it was past eight.

“Hi,” I said to a blonde lady seated next to me.

“Hi,” she replied.

“Do you know why the interview hasn’t begun? Did we miss the time?”

“Oh, it’s been shifted to two o’clock,” she answered.

“Two o’clock?” I exclaimed.

I was supposed to pick Max up from school by then. I became troubled again but decided the interview was more important. My future couldn’t be in nannying forever.

“Do you have somewhere else to be?” the lady asked, noticing my stressed look.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” I muttered.

By 2 p.m., the lady beside me was called in. I had phoned the driver earlier, telling him I was still at the hospital. That was the only option. Max wouldn't die if I don't pick him up just this once.

She hadn’t returned when I received a call from Max’s chauffeur.

“Hey Mr Audrey”

“Are you still at the hospital? Max has been refusing to come with me for the past thirty minutes. He insists you pick him up and is causing a commotion,” he informed.

“He’s causing a commotion?” I asked, alarmed.

Just then, a voice called from the interview room.

“Miss Riele Sheridan, please do come in,” the interviewer said.