"Hello," Goldie said briefly to the three people in the office as she entered.
The man behind the desk was dressed in a suit, formal and darkly handsome. The couple sitting on the sofa holding hands were middle-aged and looked at her, equal parts hopeful and anxious.
"How did they look?" the woman asked. "Were you able to get any pictures you could show us?"
Goldie shook her head. "I'm sorry, Ms. Velasquez, it would've looked too suspicious, but I promise, after I move in, I'll have plenty of opportunities as their nanny to take photographs of them."
"It's criminal," the man declared. "We're their grandparents, we shouldn't be kept from them like this. Maggie wouldn't have wanted it."
"We know," the man behind the desk interjected smoothly. "That's why you hired us, right? Ms. Sorenson and I are going to take care of this for you, we give you our word."
Goldie, too, nodded. "He's definitely in trouble," she told them. "There's no way he can take care of them on his own, he needs me."
"He's a terrible man, Mr. Edwards, like we told you, a rock star, living a horrible lifestyle, and already dating some model, with our daughter not even six months gone," Sofia Velasquez said, pulling out a handkerchief and making the sign of the cross. "He's simply not an appropriate caregiver for our granddaughters."
"I don't think he's dating that woman, if it makes you feel any better," Goldie said. "He doesn't have the time." Goldie told them of the plan for her to move in the following morning. "So I'll be right there, ready to document anything he says or does that shows he's unfit to parent them, okay? Don't worry. And I'll be reporting to Mr. Edwards, every week."
The Velasquezes left shortly after, and Goldie let out a sigh of relief as she closed the door behind them.
"How did such a nice couple end up not being able to see their own grandchildren again?" she asked. "Edwards?"
He looked up from where he was making some notes on a legal pad. "How many times have I asked you to call me by my first name? Is it so hard to call me Griffin?"
Goldie remained silent.
He considered her question. "Hm? Oh. You know, the usual. They're devout Catholic, but forgot to raise their daughter to be, so she picked a guy who wasn't, then she lived in sin with him, which upset them, which upset her, and so on. They were against the surrogacy, yada yada yada, and the daughter died before they had a chance to make up, so now the guy, Ormonde, feels like he'd be going against his dead wife's wishes if he lets them see his daughters. Something like that."
He grinned and gestured at himself. "Enter moi, to solve the problem and earn beaucoup bucks while doing so."
"Kinda gross, don't you think?" Goldie said.
"Kinda lucrative," he retorted. "Which is what you should be thinking, since I sign your paycheck." He looked at her with a little more interest, giving her his full attention. "You up for a drink? Talk about all this some more?"
Goldie looked back. "What is there to talk about? I got the job, I'm in. I start gathering dirt tomorrow, and I'll send whatever I find your way."
Griffin rose from his desk, looking at her speculatively. "Come on, just a drink. You owe me one, remember?"
Goldie sighed again. "Dammit, Griff, we've been through this already. Why do we have to have the same conversation over and over? No thank you. To the drink and to anything else."
He was moving toward her, so Goldie simply left, closing the door and quickly exiting the outer office, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. She usually went to the gym or jogging every other day, so she was in pretty good shape, though she knew that was going to have to change after she moved into Jeff's place.
She considered this as she walked home to pack. How was she going to exercise? She enjoyed it, the discipline of it, how it made her feel, how it made her look.
She let herself in to the apartment she shared with two other girls, reflecting that she'd miss Marcie and Darlene, their pizza nights, margarita parties, the time they dyed each other's hair. They were being really cool about her moving out, letting her leave her furniture and absorbing her third of the rent for the two months left on the lease.
Both of them were nurses at the nearby medical center working the night shift, so she wouldn't see them before she left, which was both bad and good. She was sad that she wouldn't get one last night with them, but glad that she wouldn't have to lie anymore about what she would really be doing at Jeffrey's. They didn't understand how she'd gone from being a temp at Griff's law firm to being a nanny so quickly, and she didn't like not telling them the truth. Technically it wasn't even a lie; she'd actually quit her job at the firm and gotten hired at the nanny agency so it would all be legit if Jeffrey ever checked her out.
Goldie quickly packed her things, making a note to have a moving company pick up the boxes that weekend. It took her until close to three in the morning, so she didn't get much sleep, but she made it back to Jeff's by breakfast, as she'd promised.
Jeff let her into a quiet apartment, taking her pull case from her.
"They're still sleeping, so I'm enjoying a quiet cup of tea," he said to her with a smile. "And look, I even shaved in honor of your arrival."
Goldie smiled back. "Let me put my things in my room, and I'll join you."
"Do you drink tea, or coffee?"
"I'm a coffee drinker, if you have it."
"I'll put some on, then."
"Thanks."
She could smell the wonderful smell of French Roast as she was coming down the stairs, and felt fleeting guilt for lying to Jeff. From what she'd seen, he was a caring, doting, father, and a really nice guy to boot.
How was she supposed to do this?
"Do you take cream in your coffee?" he asked, as she entered the kitchen area.
"Just a little."
He handed her a creamer.
"Wow, this is nice, I usually pour it straight from the carton," Goldie quipped.
"Heathen," Jeff teased.
"Don't you mean 'uncouth American'?" Goldie laughed as she poured herself a cup of coffee and added cream. She took a sip and gave a sigh of satisfaction.
"No, at least you like real cream, and not that horrible hazelnut vanilla flavored stuff," Jeff answered.
He gestured with his mug toward a small balcony that opened to the outside, where there were two chairs and a small table and a view of the street.
"Can you hear the babies?"
"I can with this," Jeff answered, picking up a baby monitor.
They sat in comfortable silence, enjoying their drinks and the early morning hustle and bustle of SoHo below them.
"So Goldie, tell me about how you ended up here, as a nanny to a widower rock singer," Jeff said finally.
"Um, well, not much to tell, but okay," Goldie said, sipping her coffee. "Let's see. I'm from upstate, a little town called Old Forge. I have a brother named Grant who's three years older than me and is doing his residency in Boston."
"You're what, 23?"
Goldie nodded and continued. "I just graduated from Columbia with a degree in English, and wanted to take a year off to consider what I want to do, and I like kids, so this seemed like a good fit. I love animals, I play the harp, if you can believe it, I'm pretty good at swimming, and I can solve the Rubik's Cube." She shrugged and took another sip of her coffee. "That about covers me, I think." She gestured toward Jeff. "You're pretty famous, but what about you? You feel like telling me the unabridged Jeffrey Ormonde story?"
"The unabridged story? Oh, I don't know," Jeff said, setting his tea down on the table. "How do I know you won't sell it to the Sun or something?" Goldie could see the corners of his mouth twitching as he teased her. He ran his fingers through his loose curls, which somehow only made his hair look better.
"Well, let's see. I was born in Leeds, an only child, but we moved to London when I was quite young. My parents were upset that I chose not to go to uni, but they became much more understanding after I bought them a nice house." He smiled wryly. "I, too, love animals. I do not play the harp, though I play the piano fairly well, so I might do okay at it, since they are sort of related, I do believe. You've got one on me as far as the Rubik's Cube, can't make heads or tails of it, if I'm being honest. I think I have one in the house somewhere that's been scrambled all to hell since the day I got it, so I'll have to dig it out for you to fix. Let's see, what else?" He gazed at her out of dark brown eyes. "I'm father to the three most beautiful young ladies in the world, and my biggest dream at this point is to sleep for six hours uninterrupted."
Just then the monitor gurgled, and, as Jeff and Goldie looked at it, it gurgled again, then it laughed.
"Sounds like at least two of them are awake," Jeff commented, rising. "Shall we?"
Goldie nodded and they went inside, depositing their cups in the sink on their way up to the nursery.
"Hello, buttons," Jeff called as he entered. "Look who's back to stay, darlings? It's Goldie, yes it is."
Genie and Pippa were sitting up in their cribs, apparently having a conversation, blonde and brown heads tilted attentively in the other's direction. Jemma was still asleep on her tummy, blue eyes closed, curly head facing the wall.
"What do you do in this situation?" Goldie asked. "Do you just let her sleep?"
Jeff nodded. "Generally if one or two are awake, the other will wake up from the fuss within a few minutes."
They each grabbed a baby and took her to her dresser, the top of which was a changing table. While they changed her diaper and got her dressed, sure enough, Jemma rolled over and opened her eyes, smiling at the morning and her sisters.
"Here, you give me Genie, and I'll take them downstairs and get started on their breakfast while you get Jemma changed, how's that sound?" Jeff suggested.
Goldie nodded and handed Genie to her father.
Jemma's eyes grew large when she saw her father and sisters leave, but she willingly lifted her arms to Goldie and let her carry her to the changing table.
"Good morning, Jemma," Goldie said as she unbuttoned her pajamas, exposing her beautiful little pink body.
"Oh my goodness, look at those gorgeous baby thighs," Goldie gushed as she took off her diaper. She loved babies, especially when they were fat and clean. Jemma and her sisters were both, thankfully, not neglected in any way.
Again, she wondered how she was supposed to collect evidence that Jeffrey Ormonde was an unfit father, when he was so obviously anything but.
"Geckly blatt," Jemma said, bringing Goldie's attention back to the naked baby on the changing table.
"Sorry, Jem," Goldie said, quickly putting a clean diaper on her. She pulled on a clean romper, buttoning it up the front. "Let's go find daddy and your sisters and see what's on for breakfast, shall we?"
Jemma gurgled agreeably from Goldie's arms.