Mr. Hot Grinch - Lindsey Hart Page 0,2
struggle like everyone else.
I’ll live however I have to in order to be free because anything would beat being married to a man I don’t know, love, or trust. I know my parents have made most of my choices for me, but it was always okay with me. This? This is not okay. This is them trying to steal my freedom, and I’m never going to let that happen.
Sam will know what to do. She’s crazy pretty, and she’s extremely popular. Everyone loves Sam. She’s also wickedly smart, and she’ll know exactly what to do. The best part? I know she’ll never tell my parents. Once I’m settled, I’ll call and tell them I’m fine, I’m not coming back, and that if they try and interfere with my life, I’ll do something.
Maybe move across the sea to freaking Europe, never talk to them again, which would really hurt me because I do love them despite this massive lapse in judgment, or cause a lot of chaos for the company. I never thought I’d resort to blackmail, but it’s the most likely option at the moment. I know a few things about my family and the company that my dad wouldn’t like coming to light. They’d probably agree to leave me alone in exchange for my discretion. Honestly, if I wanted to make some quick money, I’d go to some magazine or newspaper and sell those secrets, or just mention this whole crazy thing. How my parents, well-loved and well-respected by everyone who meets them, tried to basically trade me in as part of a business deal. I’d be able to cash in on that one.
But I can’t.
I just can’t do it.
Not only would it humiliate and hurt them, and I don’t want to do either, it would only make things worse for me. And I guess the guy at the other end of this. Hairy or not—and his name was Maxwell Stone, which sounds very much like a good name for a warty troll with butt crack hair past needing a good trim—I don’t want to call him out. Maybe he’s nice. Maybe he has a good story. I can’t be so heartless that I’d hurt other people for cash. It’s not who I am, and it’s never who I’m going to be.
No matter how desperate and lost I am.
CHAPTER 2
Feeney
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Seriously? Me? A nanny?” We’re sitting in Sam’s expensive new SUV. Her family might be rich, but they’re pretty ‘normal.’ At least she gets to drive herself and doesn’t have to be chauffeured around the way some people do.
“You’re good with kids, so why not? And this one is normal. Not all rich and spoiled. Luke lives in Miami. I’ll drive you there, don’t worry.”
“Because! I’m not good with kids. I’m good with babies. And we really only have your sister’s baby to go on.”
“Caroline’s kid is a brat,” Sam good-naturedly says about her sister’s daughter.
“How can an eight-month-old baby be a brat?”
“She doesn’t let Caroline sleep. Ever. And she’s picky about nursing. Won’t take a bottle, so Caroline is tied to her constantly, and she also cries all the time.”
“I think most babies are like that.”
“Caroline’s been through two nannies because none of them can stand it.”
“I see.”
“But this kid isn’t a baby. He’s four, and he’s a nice kid. Luke’s a friend of the family. He’s had a really rough go of it after his wife died. It was really sudden. She got diagnosed with pancreatic cancer out of nowhere, and then she was gone four months later. Shade was only two when she died.”
“Shade? What kind of a name is Shade?”
“I know,” Sam laughs. “It might be weird, but he’s a nice kid.”
“So you keep saying. That usually means it’s not true. He’s probably a monster.”
Sam looks injured. “Do you think I’d suggest a job to you where you have to take care of a snotty-nosed, monstrous little brat when you need it most?”
“It’s not like I have anywhere else to go or any other options. You don’t know of anyone who needs a roommate, and I don’t have a job to afford a place of my own. I can’t stay with you. I also can’t let you set me up in an apartment and take money from you like that until I get a job. Anyway, it would be too obvious. My parents would find me right away too. They’d set up security in the building or probably pay someone