The Nanny and the Millionaire

“You’ll be a nanny for my son,” she declares, flashing a malicious look. “For my son? Do you have a child?” “Yes.” “But I can’t,” I refuse. “I already have a job, you—” “Enough!” she cuts off my attempt to refuse. “I said you will be my… nanny. While I think how to get rid of the problem, Arthur Michelson grabs my hand and pulls me into the car. He climbs in after me. Will I really be his son’s nanny?”