Home > Billionaire's Babysitter (A Man Who Knows What He Wants #20)

Billionaire's Babysitter (A Man Who Knows What He Wants #20)
Author: Flora Ferrari






The worst week of my life continues.


It was just last month that I proudly wore my cap and gown. I graduated from NYU’s prestigious Stern School of Business with a degree in finance. NYU is only sixteen minutes away from Wall Street, and it’s one of the top five universities in the country for my major. My grades were good. I had networked like crazy for four years, even bypassing on spring break in order to gain real world experience, whatever that means. I was sure I was going to get a good job right away.


The real world was a lot tougher than my professors led me to believe. Data and behavioral science computer programs were in vogue on Wall Street now. Why hire humans when they could just buy a couple of machines to crunch numbers round the clock?


I was up to my ears in student loan debt. Even with my scholarship, part-time job, internship, and living way outside the city and commuting in every day, it still wasn’t enough. The cost of education was rising and I had no job prospects in sight.


I moved back in with my dad in Los Angeles. It was embarrassing, but I had no other options. The headhunter I was working with in Irvine had lined up an interview for me at Pacific Investment Management Company, commonly known as PIMCO, in Newport Beach. Sounds great, right? Well, it is. That’s why nine hundred and twelve people showed up to interview for three spots. I was competing against graduates from Harvard, Stanford, and the like. The odds weren’t exactly in my favor.


Even if a miracle did occur and I got the job it would be months before I started. The hiring process at these big firms drags out forever. Round after round of interviews. Just when you think you’re about to finally get an offer you get that, “There’s one more person we need you to see.” Of course that’s often the senior level VIP whose son or daughter is competing against you for the job.


I turn the corner to the street I live on and prepare to give my dad the bad news. If the student loans weren’t bad enough, he maxed out his credit cards this last semester just to make sure I got my diploma on time. I love him so much and I could never thank him enough for what he did, but there’s one thank you I’m sure he wants more than any other…me to find a job.


But all I can think about now is taking a hot bath before I login to my monster account and start job hunting into the early morning hours again.


I take my foot off the pedal of my Honda Civic and prepare to turn into my driveway, except I can’t. Some jerk has parked his Maserati along the curb, but the front is a foot or two into our driveway. I’m not a good driver to start with, and there’s not much room to maneuver on our one-way street. To make matters worse Mister Moneybags probably won’t take too kindly to me scratching up his shiny new Italian sports car, and I sure can’t afford for my car insurance payments to go up if I ding him by accident.


I coast down the block until I see it, a tiny spot that takes me a solid three minutes to pull into. My bumper is sticking out a little, but it will have to do for now.


I grab my briefcase and get out of my car. I’m angry, frustrated, and in a hurry to get inside so I can draw that bath. I just finished my time of the month, but for some reason I’m still super emotional. I hope I can make it inside before the tears start to fall.


I step onto the sidewalk in my high heels and immediately I feel something hit me hard from the side. I’m falling fast and the next thing I know I’m face down in someone’s lawn eye to eye with the grass.


I grab for my forearm that I used to break my fall. It hurts, but it’s not broken. I open and close my eyes a few times quickly to shake the cobwebs loose. Lying next to me is a boy and his bike. He’s like a little rubber band, jumping to his feet and throwing his leg over the bar as he prepares to make a quick getaway.


No you don’t. Not today.


I lunge forward grabbing the back tire. All the anger of this past week causes a surge of adrenaline. Luckily he hasn’t started pedaling or my hand would be toast.


He jumps off the bike and takes off running.


That little shit!


I rip off the one heel that I’ve still got on and jump to my feet, taking off across the lawn after him.








“Let me call you right back,” I say, abruptly ending the call.


From the front porch my eyes catch a beautiful young woman darting across the front yards in the neighborhood until she’s reached mine. What the heck?


Suddenly she dives forward like a professional athlete. But it’s not a ball she comes up with, it’s Benjamin’s leg as she brings him to the ground with an expert tackle.


I drop my coffee before shoving open the screen door and closing the distance to them in a rush as I to try and figure out what’s going on.


She jumps to her feet and grabs him by the arm.


“Where do you think you’re going?” she says in a raised tone, but not a yell.


He looks down to the ground. He’s in trouble and he knows it.


“Where do you live?”


He turns his head sideways, further away from her glare.


“Where’s your helmet? You have to have a helmet in California if you’re under eighteen. You could have hurt yourself, or hurt me…worse than you did.”


His chin is touching his chest by this point. I can see he’s sorry, and as I look up at her I see she’s starting to feel bad for going off on him. He’s always been a rambunctious little guy. He needs to be more careful, for everyone’s sake. I think he got the message.


“Everything okay here?” I ask, coming to a stop just a couple feet from them.


She looks up at me, recognizing my presence for the first time. She was so focused on catching him she didn’t even see me running towards them.


“No!” she says. “I mean yes. It’s under control.”

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