Daphne Collins, a 21-year-old aspiring artist who is attempting to make her way in the world of the bustling New York City. Though when a new nannying job gets offered to her, she takes it, hopeful that it'll give her the extra money and nudge to ma...
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Chapter Song - Can't Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli
"Daddy, daddy." two small voices whine, nudging my shoulder. I groan, rolling over onto my stomach, smashing my face into the pillow. What are they doing in here?
"Daddy!" Bridie yells, yet it comes out slightly growly.
I shoot up, slightly scared. "Yes, bub?" I question, wiping my eyes as light floods in from the bay window.
"It's time for our fun day!" Hallie squeals, and realisation dawns on me. No wonder they're up at - I gaze over at my alarm clock - 8:56am in the morning on a Saturday and not sleeping still.
These girls - like me - love their sleep.
"Of course," I smile. "Well let me get dressed quickly and i'll meet you two downstairs for some breakfast. Where's Daphne?" I ask them.
"She's downstairs," Hallie answers and I nod my head, smiling at the thought of Daphne.
Daphne, the nanny. You need tostop.
God, but last night. Those glances on the couch during the film, how close her cherry red lips were to mine when I looked over her shoulder at the steaming pasta. And her fast breaths and dilated eyes as I stared into her warm light brown eyes, pools of pure caramel.
Fuck, I seriously can't be getting a hard on in front of my daughters.
The girls leave and I get up, throwing on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt before making my way downstairs. Distant chatter fills my ears as I make my way closer to the kitchen. Walking in, the girls are seated at the island, eating some cereal as they animatedly chat to each other, while Daphne flips through today's newspaper.
"Anything new?" I ask, grabbing the brewed coffee and pouring myself a cup.
Daphne peaks up from analysing the paper and a light blush creeps onto her cheeks. I hide my smirk by taking a sip at my coffee at her obvious attraction, which sends a wave of electricity to my dick.
"Uh, not much really," she mutters, looking back at the paper. Well something has her attention, even if she says theres 'not much' in the paper today.
I waltz over to her and stand next to her. The warm vanilla and floral scent emitting from her body enveloping me, as I purposely press my side against hers.
Her breath hitches and I hide a proud smirk, glancing down at the opened newspaper, pretending nothing happened.
'MAN MURDERED IN ALLEY WAY, SOUTH BRONX' reads The New York Times morning newspaper. I frown, wondering why she may be reading this in such depth.
"Uh," I hum and she closes the newspaper and walks over to her mug of coffee, her shoulders tense, and demeanour cold and rigid.
I know for a fact that wasn't me, because I know when women are attracted to me and, well, more than that. But something about that story has set Daphne off, and i'm honestly worried.
