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A Husband For The NANNY

“Congratulations, you have been hired as the personal assistant…” “Really!” Grace exclaimed even before Jace Brandon, the CEO of Brandon Corporations could finish his statement. The growing sparkle in Grace’s eyes did not escape the keen sight of Jace. “To my son,” he completed. “Yes, I’m very much delighted to take up the position of the personal assistant to … your what?!” Grace’s eyes almost popped out of their socket as she completed “son?” listlessly. “You heard me right,” Jace replied coldly as he stared at Grace. “Is that not the same as being employed as your child’s nanny?” Grace asked doubtfully. “If you want to put it that way, yes.” Jace replied nonchalantly. “In other words…” Grace began. “You are officially my son’s nanny, if you accept the offer,” Jace Brandon completed. “If there is nothing else, this interview is officially over.” ********* Grace Fowler, who had always dreamt of becoming a top designer in the biggest designing firm in the country was blacklisted for exposing sensitive company information due to a set up by the ones she trusted the most— her boyfriend and her kid sister. Shattered and battered, she set out for greener pastures in an unknown land and ended up being hired as a nanny to the son of Jace Brandon, the wealthiest billionaire in San Francisco. But the scariest thing was when her job description was gradually amended to not only taking care of the five year old autistic son of the CEO but the widowed CEO himself. What does the future hold for her when suddenly, everything around her begins to change and her past comes calling again with the sudden appearance of her boss’s late wife. Will Grace be able to let go of her past and embrace the joy of fighting for the heart of the man her heart yearns for, or settle for happiness in the arms of Trent, her boss’s cousin, who literally adores the ground Grace walks on?

Beautifiedg1 · Urbano
Classificações insuficientes
344 Chs

You Hold A Special Position

The following morning, Grace slowly opened her eyes and the morning light filtering through unfamiliar curtains greeted her.

Blinking away the remnants of sleep, she glanced around the room, her mind still groggy with confusion. "Where am I?"

The question echoed in her mind as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, and winced as a sharp pain shot up her ankle and at the same time noticed the wheelchair beside the bed.

Oh, right, she had sprained her ankle and the events of the previous day began to flood back.

And, yes, she was in her new room in Jace Brandon's Manor as his son's nanny.

She sighed in resignation and relaxed back into the pillows as she tried to come to terms with her new life.

Gingerly testing her weight, she pushed herself upright and hobbled over to the bathroom.

She should start trying to use them. She was someone who can't sit still for long. The only time that she can stay in a place for long is when she is designing.

Aside from that she had already been tagged "crippled" by the rest of the servants and she couldn't wait to see the shock on their faces when she appears before then on her two feet.

She doesn't like flaunting her assets but it's like, she'll have to put up a bold front here so that no one can easily take her for a ride.

After a quick wash, she managed to freshen up, and with the help of the cold water, every cell in her woke up in no time.

As she toweled off, there was a knock on the door, followed by the sound of voices in the hallway.

"Give me a minute, I'll be with you shortly," she yelled from the bathroom and hurriedly threw on the second dress in the paper bag Ingrid had brought last night.

Afterwards, she limped to the door, her ankle protesting with every step. Opening it, she was greeted by a little group whom she was sure were not part of the servants from the way they looked

"Good morning, Miss," one of them greeted her with a warm smile. "I am Isabella and here, are my assistants Ruth and Craig. We're here to take your measurements."

Grace nodded in understanding, her momentary confusion instantly clearing.

"Good morning, and do come in, please."

She stepped aside and opened the door wider for them.

"Thanks," Isabella replied and walked in with her little team.

Ruth nodded in greeting as she passed her but Craig couldn't seem to take his eyes off Grace as he followed behind his boss. 'What a lovely sight to behold so early in the morning,' he muttered beneath his breath.

Oblivious that she had attracted to herself another admirer, Grace continued drying her voluminous hair as she ushered them into the room, her face flushed in a lovely hue.

As they set to work, she couldn't help but marvel at how fast Mr Brandon got things done.

Just last night he had mentioned sending someone to take her measurements and they were already here so early in the morning.

"What do you intend to make for me?" Grace asked after they were done with taking her measurements.

"President Brandon had asked us to arrange some formal clothings for you, a few casual wears and some underwears," Isabella answered.

"Here's the catalogue. You can make your selections on the styles you would prefer."

Grace's brows arched in surprise. "Isn't there a general wear for everyone?"

She had noticed that as soon as she saw the servants yesterday. Although there was no particular color, everyone, except for the cook, was uniformly dressed in formal attires.

One would hardly differentiate the servants working here from the company staff if not for the fact that none of the ladies had high heels on when she saw them.

"We were made to understand that you hold a special position than the others," Isabella hinted meaningfully.

She was also curious to know what special position this beautiful woman held in the house for President Brandon to personally call her late in the night to report in his house first thing in the morning to take someone's measurements.

While taking her measurements just now, she had been so impressed by her perfect figure and was sure whatever they were going to make for her would turn out perfect on her.

Infact, the last time they came here to take anyone's measurements was four years ago when Mrs Brandon was still alive and they needed to take her new measurements as she had added some weight after delivery.

"Oh," Grace merely shrugged as she failed to understand what was so special about being a nanny. To her, a nanny was no different from any other servant.

However she still pointed out some styles that she believed were appropriate for the so called "special position" she held.

Isabella collected the catalogue from her and took note of the styles she had picked,

"They'll be ready this evening, see you then, Miss," she said while her assistants gathered their things.

"Alright and thanks a lot," Grace responded.

"No need to thank us, we're just doing our job.," Isabella smiled and left with her team.

After they left, Grace gently massaged her ankle again with the ointment the doctor had given her from the hospital.

She winced in pain when tried to exert more pressure on them.

"This is more serious than I thought."

Although the swelling had greatly reduced it was still painful, probably because of the little exercise to and from the door and for standing on them for so long while they were taking her measurements.

Now she has no choice but to force herself to swallow the damned pills.

She limped to the water dispenser by the corner and poured herself a glass of water to take the pill.

She was still trying to push down the pill that seemingly stuck to her throat with more water when she heard another knock on the door again.

This time, she settled herself in the wheelchair before answering.

"Please come in, the door is open."

Hardly had the words left her mouth when the door swung open and in walked or rather sauntered what Grace would best describe as a red haired devil judging from the look on her face.