Chapter 4 First Night as Nanny

Emily's P.O.V

"Mason, Maxwell, have you boys brushed your teeth?" I ask them as I make their bed, but neither of them answers me.

I am not bothered by their attitude at first, but all I can think of is Mr. Christopher's sudden declaration that would I spend the night at his place.

"Miss Willows!" Mason yells from the bathroom.

I panic, thinking something terrible must have happened. "I'm coming Mason."

I rush into the bathroom and find both boys putting on only their underwear and playing in the bathtub.

"Maxwell! Mason! What are you boys doing?" I ask, annoyed by their behavior.

"I can't find my glasses," Mason sobs.

Maxwell doesn't seem bothered by the annoyed expression which I wear on my face.

"Alright, that's enough bath time for the both of you. Get up and dry your body with you towels," I order and they both stand their feet slowly.

Maxwell climbs out of the bathtub, bickering words I can't hear, but Mason stays put. He is still crying and I am sure it is because of his glasses.

I take a deep breath and search the bathroom, hoping to find his glasses, and luckily, I do. It has fallen underneath the sink and it looks like he kept there before getting into the bathtub with his brother.

"Here you go," I say to him with a flourish and his face lights up with the biggest smile I have ever seen.

Mason puts on his glasses and climbs out of the bathtub, pulling me into a hug and getting my body wet. "Thank you so much, Miss Willows."

He runs along into their bedroom and by the time I am done cleaning up their mess in the bathroom, both boys have already put on their pajamas and are ready for bed.

Mason tosses and turns on his bed. "Tell us a bedtime story, Miss Willows."

I giggle softly. "I'm afraid that would be another night, Mason. Your dad wants to be the one to fully tuck in tonight."

I barely finish my statement when Mr. Christopher walks into the room, his face as emotionless as ever.

"I've never seen you boys ready for bed so early," He declares and both boys laugh.

I walk gracefully to the door, making way for Mr. Christopher to sit on the bed beside the twins.

"I don't like her," Maxwell declares. "She's too bossy."

"I like her dad. Can we keep her?" Mason asks.

Mr. Christopher smiles, something I barely saw him do at the office.

"She's not property, so it's not in my place to say we can keep her. Miss Willows still has one more test before I can trust her to be your nanny," Mr. Christopher replies.

He kisses the boys goodnight and we both leave them to get their nights rest.

"Come with me, Miss Willows," Mr. Christopher informs me, and I follow sheepishly behind him.

The smile which he had on his face not long ago is nowhere to be seen. I guess only his boys could bring out the weak side of him.

I follow Mr. Christopher down a lobby and a picture of him and a lady whom I presume to be his wife skydiving calls my attention.

I stop for a moment to look at it.

"Miss Willows, if you don't mind?" Mr. Christopher calls out to me, and I walk hurriedly to meet with him.

We stand before a bedroom door, and he turns the doorknob gently.

He gestures for me to go in before him and that I do.

The bedroom looked familiar, just like that in my dream. My weird dream about my soon to be boss.

"This is where you will stay for the night and if things go well, it will probably be your new home," He informs, keeping his facial expression rigid and plain as I expected.

"Um, Mr. Christopher, may I ask about your wife? I thought she would be back from work by now," I utter, but my words don't seem to go down too well with him.

"Goodnight Miss Willows. I'll see you tomorrow morning," he responds and walks out of the bedroom.

I can't believe he didn't even make any advancements towards me. That would usually happen in every romance story and movie that I have seen.

My phone rings. Natasha is calling and being aware that she won't stop bugging until she knows how things went. I sluggishly answer the phone.

"Hey roomie," I giggle.

"Ash, why aren't you home yet? This is nearly midnight," Natasha declares over the phone.

She is worried, and it makes very cute at time.

"Mr. Christopher is making me spend the night at his place," I whisper in order to avoid eves droppers.

"And you didn't think you should have informed your best friend about this before agreeing to his wishes?" Natasha asks scornfully over the phone.

I can already imagine her sparkling brown eyes staring down at me for probably making what she believes to be a bad decision.

"I didn't have the time to even think about it. I thought he might find it offensive if I turned down the invite," I respond.

Natasha scuffs, "Young billionaires always find everything offensive."

I laugh softly as not to disturb the twins and Mr. Christopher.

"How about his kids? How are they? Nice, cranky, spoilt?" Natasha inquires.

I am about to answer her when I hear a noise coming from the living room.

"Natasha, I'll talk to you later," I respond, and end the call.

I take a deep breath and, having no clothes to change into, I open my door gently and walk to the living room to find out what the noise was about.

"Mr. Christopher!" I gasp as I stare at my future boss scanning through his kitchen cabinet, likely looking for something to eat.

"I guess having you around means I won't be able to tear my kitchen apart like a scavenger when I get hungry," he declares without a tiny smirk on his face.

"Go have a seat Mr. Christopher, I'll get you something to eat," I respond and gesture for him to leave the kitchen.

He is hesitant at first, but I stand my ground and soon; he walks away from the kitchen and retreats to the dining table.

I scan through the cabinets and barely find any food items apart from a cartoon of noodles.

Judging by how late it was and not knowing how hungry he could be, I take two noodle packs and quickly prepare it for him.

"Smells nice," he declares as I take the pot down from the cooker.

"For someone who dinner is being prepared for, you don't seem so happy," I respond, but he says nothing.

I serve him the food on the dining table and he stares at me a moment before taking a hold of his fork to have his meal.

"Did Mason and Maxwell have something to eat?" I ask him.

"And I'm presume you're asking because of how hungry I am. Am I right?"

"Yes." I respond firmly.

He takes a fork full of noodles and turns it to me.

"You should taste your food. It's quite delicious," he says, and I am stunned as to how he could be so sweet yet not have a smile on his face.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I prepared that for you so eat up. I'll go clean up the kitchen now," I inform him and attempt to stand to my feet, but he holds my right hand down to the table.

"Thank you for the meal," he whispers and stands to his feet. "Goodnight."

I watch him walk away and realize that he had barely touched the food I prepared for him.

"He's not a spicy food person," I whisper to myself and smile warmly.