The Doctor's Fake Nanny

By: Tiana Cole

“What do you think? Should we do it?”

“Yup, those stickies always make things better.”

“They really do seem to. Alright, let me see that finger. How old are you anyway, little lady? Might as well get to know you a little better, since you’re getting my favorite Band-Aid.”

“Me? I’m this many.”

She held up four chubby little fingers with a pride that made me want to laugh all over again. She was clearly proud of how worldly she was at four years old. I could see it in her big blue eyes. Man, she really was pretty adorable.

“And how many is that?”

“Four! You can count them! I’m Sophie, too. That’s what my daddy named me.”

“That’s a really beautiful name. My name is Kayla. I’m pretty sure my daddy picked my name, too. I think I might like yours better, though.”

She grinned, pleased as punch by the compliment. Her injured finger seemed to have been completely forgotten and she raised one chubby hand to touch my cheek.”

“It’s soft,” she whispered, running her fingers up and down the side of my face, “but it looks different than me. How come we aren’t the same color?”


Oh god, I almost had a heart attack at that sound. I had come here for a reason but when Sophie had come scurrying into the foyer I had almost forgotten what that reason was. I had gone into kid mode and, for a moment, I was able to just enjoy how simple and beautiful it was to be that young and innocent. That loud, commanding voice brought me back to reality with a force just as jarring as if I had been slapped straight across the face.

The reality was that I had basically broken into this unbelievably fancy house and had a little girl who did not belong to me sitting in my lap. Crap, this didn’t look good. This was probably a really good way to get arrested. I looked up hesitantly to see who the voice was coming from.

“Sophie, we don’t ask questions like that. It isn’t polite.”

It was the man I had come to see. Dr. David Wyatt. I had seen him before, several times in fact, but I still couldn’t help but marvel over how young he was.

How could a guy who looked like he had to be around thirty years old be one of the most renowned cardiologists in the city? To top it all off, he was impossibly handsome. He made me feel frumpy and awkward just by being in the same room.

He had dark hair, thick and curly, and the same striking blue eyes as his little girl. He was tall and lean, a man with the easy muscle tone of a born athlete. He was pretty much too good-looking to live and I rolled my eyes at how nervous that made me. I had to get a grip if I was going to have a shot in hell of pulling this thing off.

Even while I was trying desperately to get my shit together I noticed that he was on a phone call even as he descended the stairs. He was speaking to the person on the other line, and he did not sound happy. It sounded like he was in the middle of an argument that had been going on for quite some time. I didn’t really know how I was supposed to handle him, and so I turned back to the chubby little girl in my lap.

“But I just wanted to know. I like it. It looks like the candies I like.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. It doesn’t bother me at all. That’s kind of how I think of my skin, too. It’s a little bit like milk chocolate, right?”

“Right! Like my candies!”

“Sophie, that’s enough. Come here, please.”

Sophie didn’t move. She leaned her warm body closer into me and looked at Dr. Wyatt with a cranky, sullen expression. It was obvious to all of us that she had no desire to go to him.

“Sophie. Now.”

She went, but hesitantly. She didn’t seem to have any of the excitement I would have expected a little girl to have for her father. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if she liked him. She definitely looked a little bit wary. I just couldn’t be sure why.

Now that I no longer had a little girl to tend to there wasn’t much of a reason for me to be on the ground and I rose quickly, trying to preserve whatever dignity I could. It looked like the good doctor was still on the phone, giving me a scrutinizing look as he spoke, but he hadn’t asked me to leave yet. What did that mean?

I didn’t know what to do with myself so I did what I always did when I was nervous. I cleaned. And believe me, there was plenty of that to do.

It wasn’t just the explosion of Sophie’s belongings, either. There was paperwork everywhere, and even a few discarded to go containers as well. I wondered to myself when the last time someone had dusted this place and if this mess continued throughout the entire house. If so, cleaning this place could take a long, long time.

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