How To Wife Your Nanny A Billionaire Single Dad Romantic Comedy- Melinda Minx Page 0,3

to Naomi. “Naomi is new here, why don’t we let her choose the first book we read?”

“Umm,” she said. “Can we read a Little Gobblegurt book?”

My jaw dropped. The Little Gobblegurt was the series of children’s books that I had written and illustrated. Just over five years ago I’d been lucky enough for a small publisher to pick up a book I’d done for fun, and for just under two years I’d released a new Gobblegurt book every few months. It was the best thing that had ever happened to me...and then Blackwinters Publishing bought out the little Indie Press that had been so good to me. They renegotiated my contract in a way that made it so I was making pennies on the dollar compared to what I’d made before. My brother told me to sue their ass in court, but I was broke by that point, and I knew I’d lose.

Now I carried a few of those Gobblegurt books around in my backpack every Tuesday and Thursday, pathetically hoping that a kid would actually ask to read one of them. I was too self-conscious to tell them I’d written a book and read it for them. I was afraid the parents would think I was full of myself or something for reading my own books. Besides, even if the kids all liked it and bought the book, 95% of the money would go to Blackwinters Publishing, and it wouldn’t even give me enough money to buy a coffee. Mr. Black would just see a few extra dollars trickle into the billions he already had. He wouldn’t even see it, I’m sure. It was just more money to pile into his vault full of it. A few more dollar bills to swim around in, just like Scrooge McDuck.

I’d carried those books around with me for over a year, ever since I started doing the Reading Hour, and Naomi was the first kid to ask to read them.

“We can,” I said, smiling at Naomi. “How about The Greedy Little Gobblegurt Doesn’t Want to Share?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

This was the last Gobblegurt book I wrote. The one that I wrote after Mr. Black screwed me over.

I’d always drawn the Gobblegurt to look like a mix between a Goomba from Super Mario and some kind of cute little goblin. In this final book I made him look a little bit meaner than usual.

I started reading. “Today was the greedy little Gobblegurt’s birthday, and—”

“Miss Lacey!” Dmitri shouted, “you forgot to say who wrote the book!”

I bit my lip and blushed. I always made a big point to read out the title and author name before we read a book. I had skipped over it just now because I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.

“This book is by Lacey Larsen,” I said, mumbling it quickly. “It was the little Gobblegurt’s birthday, and—”

“That’s the same name as you, Miss Lacey,” Toya said.

I laughed nervously, and I accidentally looked up at Noah, who was raising an eyebrow at me. God, I had the book in my backpack. What was he going to think about me if I carried my own failed children’s books around with me?

“Let’s keep reading,” I said.

“Are you Lacey Larsen?” The 7-year-old asked. “That book was in your backpack. Did you write a book, Miss Lacey?”

“Um, yeah,” I muttered.

I glanced quickly up at Noah, but he was on his phone now. I sighed relief. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

The younger kids didn’t seem to really notice much, but some of the older kids were telling me that it’s cool that I wrote a book, and they asked me if I drew all the pictures too.

Naomi stared up at me with wide eyes. “I love the Gobblegurt. You’re Miss Lacey Larsen?”

She looked starstruck, but I just nodded meekly to her. “Well, let’s read it then, okay?”

I read the book, and the kids all made me read another Gobblegurt book. I had two others with me, which I read out loud to them.

After I finished, a few parents came up to me and were very nice to me about the books. They wondered why I’d never read them, and asked where they could buy a copy.

As I looked up from talking to Toya’s mom, I saw Noah towering over me, a smug grin on his face. “You’re the Gobblegurt author. You’re Lacey Larsen.”

“Uh huh.”

“That’s Naomi’s favorite book. The Greedy Gobblegurt Doesn’t Want To Share. We’ve read our copy at home so many times