I took a deep breath. Okay. I could do this, I'm only here to meet the children and go over the plans and schedule before I finally move in. I could be responsible. Polite. Charming. Totally competent. I was not going to trip over a stone, spill coffee on anyone, or-God forbid-hit anyone with a plank.
My nervousness made me forget I was limping.
I tried to remind myself that I had saved a child from being hit by a car just yesterday. Surely that counted for something.
As the gates opened, I noticed the driveway stretched farther than my entire college campus. The estate itself was huge-manicured hedges, fountains that probably required a small army to maintain, and a front door that could double as a castle gate.
I reminded myself to breathe.
"Good morning!" I called out as I approached the door, trying to sound cheerful but calm, professional. Not panicked. Not sweaty. Not like I had just wrestled traffic and survived.
A maid-I assumed-opened the door, eyebrows raised, clipboard in hand.
"You must be Miss Milton," she said, voice polite but tinged with curiosity.
"That's me," I said, offering a smile.
She glanced at my leg. Limp. Bandage. Slight bruise. Yep, they'd notice. "Right this way."
I followed her into the estate, the kind of building that made me want to whisper excuse me, may I live here? just to feel slightly less intrusive. The floors gleamed as though a team of angels polished them nightly. I tried not to imagine walking across it in my sneakers from earlier.
Then it happened.
A small, human-shaped missile came barreling down the hallway toward me.
"Miss! Miss!"
I turned, heart in my throat.
And collided with the source of panic-a small boy about six years old, arms flailing like he'd just discovered gravity and hated it.
"Oh no," I muttered.
"Don't worry!" I said instinctively to myself. "I've got this."
Because what else do you say when a six-year-old charges at you full speed?
And just like that, I realized... I had met Adam Walton, the youngest of the three children I was now responsible for helping educate. And judging by his grin, he already knew I was about to be thoroughly tested.
"You're Adam!" I said, crouching to his level. "Hi! Nice to meet you. I heard you're the fastest boy in the estate."
"Faster than Daddy!" he shouted, puffing out his chest. "I almost got hit by a car yesterday but she saved me!" he said to the maid.
I froze, remembering the incident of yesterday. The pain in my leg, the adrenaline, the panic. And now I was being hailed as a hero by a six-year-old who had apparently announced it to the entire staff over and over again.
"Uh..." I laughed nervously. "Yes. That was me. Hero. Slightly battered, but alive. We'll call it a win."
Adam's eyes sparkled. "You're my hero! I like you!"
I blinked. Okay. Not terrifying. Cute, maybe. But definitely, definitely chaotic.
And then I heard it: the soft shuffle of a much larger presence.
He was here.
Benjamin Walton.
I turned-and froze. There he stood,looking so beautifully framed by the doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Calm. Powerful. Handsome. Annoying. And terrifying, all at once.
"Adam," he said evenly, voice like polished marble.
Benjamin's lips twitched ever so slightly. Something like a smile-but not quite. Eyes narrowed, assessing. Judging. Calculating.
I swallowed. And said nothing. Because honestly, words seemed inadequate in front of someone like him.
Susan appeared at his side-Susan, I later learned that she's the Head manager, nanny, orchestrator of household sanity, whatever that is. She gave me a measured glance, one of those looks that silently says you're new and I'm suspicious, but we'll see.
Benjamin straightened. "Miss Milton, come with me. Let's discuss your responsibilities."
I followed, limping slightly, trying to look dignified. Which is a challenge when your leg is throbbing and your heart is doing weird things every time he glances at you.
---
The meeting was... informative.
Benjamin outlined his expectations with military precision. Homework, manners, schedules, tutoring sessions, extracurriculars. All of it. My notebook filled faster than my brain could process.
"And," he said finally, "I need someone I can trust around my children. Responsible, reliable, observant, proactive."
"Yes," I said quickly. "Totally. Absolutely. Usually. Today excepted."
He raised an eyebrow. "Today excepted?"
I flushed. "I mean... it's been... eventful so far."
He glanced at Adam, who gave me a thumbs-up. And then Benjamin's expression softened slightly. But just slightly. Enough to let me know he noticed I wasn't completely reckless.
We moved on to Elena and Alex, who were far more skeptical. Fourteen and ten, respectively, with opinions sharper than their father's briefcase collection. They studied me like a new species. I smiled. Too hard. Blinked. Limped. Waved. Hoping they would interpret my chaos as... charm.
Elena crossed her arms. "You saved him?," she said bluntly.
"Yes," I admitted. "But he's okay now. And we bonded over danger and adrenaline."
Alex's eyes lit up. "You saved Adam? Cool! Can you do magic too?"
"Magic?" I asked, trying to keep a straight face.
"Yes," he said seriously. "Like disappearing snacks. Or turning homework into fun."
I laughed. "I'll work on it."
Benjamin watched silently, his eyes occasionally flicking to me, the children, and back. There was judgment there, yes-but also... something softer. Concern, maybe. Approval, possibly. And definitely curiosity.
By the end of the first day, I had survived Adam's endless questions, Elena's sharp tongue, Alex's mischief, and Benjamin's inscrutable gaze.
I collapsed onto my bed later the moment I got back, exhausted. But alive. Heroism still intact. And somewhere deep inside, a small spark of something... hopeful.
I need all the strength and luck I can get to survive my first official day and moving in at the Walton's tomorrow.
Because for all his control, his poise, his wealth, and his intimidating presence, Benjamin Walton's eyes had betrayed something he was trying very hard to hide and I'm not sure if that scared me... or thrilled me.
---