My Lucky Groom (Summer Grooms Series) (5 page)

“I’ll get on it right away.”

“Thanks, Jason.”

Jason met his eyes with a compassionate gaze. “Don’t worry,
chief. We’ll find someone. And once we do, I’m going to guarantee it, she’ll
have been worth the wait.”

Ventura stared down at Richard’s business card in a sweat.
For three weeks, she’d been pounding the pavement,
cold-calling
,
and applying online, and so far she’d had only two meager interviews, neither
of which had panned out. It was impossible to believe that with a graduate
degree she couldn’t even land a secretarial job, but in this competitive market,
that was how it seemed. And now, she was running out of money.

She pulled a tissue from the box on the table to dab her
damp forehead and too-hot neck. Since theirs was a basement apartment, Nanette
didn’t believe air-conditioning was warranted. But by mid-June in Washington,
even basement apartments were broiling hot. Not that Ventura blamed Nanette for
pinching pennies. She basically lived on a widow’s pension supplemented by her
meager rental income. Though this place was stretching her thin, it was far
less expensive than any other place Ventura might rent on her own. And what
she’d lost in privacy, she’d gained in a special new friend. It seemed she and
Mary became closer every day. If only Ventura were gainfully employed, she’d
feel better about things. As it was, she
was having
to
be extra careful about finances.

She’d tried to gloss over it, but Mary appeared to have
picked up on it just the same. Just last night she’d offered to pay their tab
for Zen’s Chinese Take-Out, supposedly in celebration of receiving her first
big paycheck. Inwardly, Ventura knew Mary was being kind. Ventura was getting
to the point where she could no longer afford take-out food. Things were
getting desperate. If there were another way, she’d seize it. But the only
other way Ventura could see at the moment involved giving up on her dreams entirely
and moving back home. And home wasn’t a place where Ventura was necessarily
welcome. Her mom had sold the big house and moved into a condo, which basically
accommodated her and her
half-time
, live-in boyfriend,
along with his gigantic, drool-happy dog.

Ventura took a long sip of water,
then
set down the bottle, preparing to dial. She hoped to find a way to sound casual
about it and not present herself as being quite as desperate as she was. She
couldn’t chance giving Richard the idea that there was something wrong with
her. She’d at least need to secure an interview to have a shot at the job. She
punched in Richard’s number and fidgeted nervously with her scrawled-on legal
pad as the phone rang two, then three times… In case he didn’t answer, she’d
written down precisely what she would say to his voice-mail box.

“Richard Blake,” he answered in an even clip that sounded
ultraprofessional.

Ventura stared hard at her legal pad, and all sense of
reason flew out the window. “Um…”

“Is someone there?” he asked seriously.

“Yes! Hello. This is Ventura Hart.”

He paused a beat, then answered, “Ventura, hi. How nice to
hear from you. How’s the job hunt going?”

“Not so well,” she answered honestly.

“I’m”
—
he
hesitated a moment before finishing
—
“sorry.”

“Yes, well. You know how it is.”

“Very competitive market.”

“Exactly.”

“Not that you’re not extremely qualified.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ve been asking around.”

“You have?”

“The only problem is
,
I didn’t have
a way to contact you.”

Ventura drew a hopeful breath. “You mean, you’ve heard of
something? In journalism?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Not exactly. But I’ve been keeping
my ears open.”

“That’s good of you.”

“Yes.”

“Well, you have my number now.”

“It’s on my caller ID,” he agreed.

“Which may come in handy.”

“How so?”

“Should”
—
Ventura
gathered her nerve and squeezed shut her eyes
—
“you need to call me for interview?”

“Interview?”

Ventura drew a breath and let it out, counting to twenty-five.

“Ventura? Are you still there?”

“I’d like to apply for the position,” she told him firmly.

“The nanny job?” he asked with surprise.

“If you’ll still have me.”

“It’s yours!” he proclaimed with delight.

“Whhh…what did you say?”

“I said, you’re hired, Ventura. When can you start?”

“But don’t I need to interview? Meet the kids?”

“Formalities. We’ll arrange all that. Doesn’t have to be in
any certain order.”

“I see.” Ventura swallowed hard, wondering what she was
getting herself into. How bad were those children if he hadn’t found help for
them already? Ventura tried to reassure herself, thinking Richard was probably
just picky as any good daddy would be. That made him admirable, didn’t it?

“It would super if you could swing by on Monday. You can
meet the kids and Jason, and we’ll get everything set up.”

“Jason?”

“He’s my personal assistant and a really great guy. You’ll
have no worries. Jason will teach you everything you need to learn in getting
started. Now, all I need is your address. I’ll have him come and pick you up.”

Ventura set down her cell in a daze as Mary entered the
kitchen.

“What’s up?” Mary asked her. “You look a little weird.”

“I’ve just been hired.”

“That’s awesome!” Mary walked over and slapped her a
high-five. “Where?”

“At Richard’s.”

“You took the nanny job?”

Ventura nodded, still dumbstruck. It had all happened so
fast she could scarcely believe it herself.

“When do you start?”

“On Monday.”

“That’s great! We’ll have to celebrate.”

“Did I hear someone say celebrate?” Nanette asked, tottering
down the stairs in platform sandals.

Ventura and Mary shared frightened looks.

“What a wonderful coincidence that is! My cousin Frank has a
nice young nephew in town.” Ventura’s mouth hung open as Mary grimaced, seconds
before Nanette appeared in a poodle skirt and tiny tank top. “He and his friend
Charles are Capitol Hill interns. Imagine that. We’re practically neighbors.”

“Imagine,” Mary said, blinking at Ventura.

“Trying not to,” Ventura said under her breath.

Nanette studied them both with an affectionate grin.
“Naturally, I told Frank you’d show the boys around.”

Cherry trees and dogwoods lined the Tidal Basin reflecting
the Jefferson Memorial as the sun rose high above the water. Ventura and Mary
shared a paddleboat as
two toned
blonds, Charles and
Wally, commandeered another. The guys smiled and waved, tipping their visors in
the girls’ direction.

Ventura stared at them in awe. “I have to hand it to
Nanette. This time, she didn’t mess up.”

“I know. Amazing. Right?” Mary grinned and waved back.
“Which one do you like best?”

“They’re both really cute.”

“You choose.”

Just then, Ventura spotted a hunky, dark-haired man strolling
along the path with two gorgeous children in tow, a boy and a girl who both
looked to be about five years old. The man moved with confidence and the easy
grace of a guy in charge of himself, not to mention his rock-hard body. “I’ll
take him,” she said a bit wistfully.

Mary gripped her arm and whispered, “Oh my gosh, Ventura.
It’s
him.
”

“Who?”

“Richard!”

Ventura lowered her prescription sunglasses to get a clearer
view, seeing Mary was right. It was Richard, no doubt, dressed in khaki slacks
and a crisp white polo, buying his two adorable children ice cream from a kiosk
vendor.

“You’ve got it made in the shade working for that dude.”

“Can’t beat the view,” Ventura said with a sigh.

“Do you think he sees us?”

“No, and let’s keep it that way. When I meet his kids on
Monday, I want to present myself professionally.”

As they spoke, Wally and Charles drew their boat up beside
them. “You girls about ready for our picnic?”

Ventura scanned the shore to spy Richard and his kids
nowhere in sight. “Sounds fine.”

“I’m starved,” Mary agreed.

Charles gave Ventura a warm smile. “Great. Let’s head back
to the dock, then, and throw a blanket down somewhere.”

“So much for
our
choosing,”
Mary said as they turned their boat around.

“What do you mean?” Ventura asked her.

“I think Charles has a thing for you.”

“Really?” Ventura asked, fingering her flat-ironed hair.

“You do look dynamite in those short shorts.”

Ventura studied her thighs and the way they pudged out
sideways on the seat of the boat. “They might be a bit too short.”

“No way!
You, girlfriend, look smoking
hot.
And don’t think someone hasn’t noticed,” she said, angling her chin
at the boat up ahead as Charles kept trying to sneak peeks at Ventura over his
shoulder.

Before she knew it, they were back at the dock and the boys
had already disembarked. “Here,” Charles said to Ventura, playing the
gentleman, “give me your hand.”

Ventura stood unsteadily as the small craft rocked. Taking
his hand was probably a good idea. It was going to be a little tricky climbing
out of here, especially in these thigh-high shorts and with—-
what
?—
Richard
walking right toward her! Ventura made a sudden shift, and her wet sneaker
squeaked on the boat’s bottom.

“Ventura!” Charles urged, extending his arm “Here!”

But all she could see was Richard, with his unbelievably
dark eyes and incredibly sexy smile, striding in her direction. She reached for
Charles’s hand but missed it just as Richard’s surprised gaze settled on hers.

“Ventura!” he called, rushing forth as she stepped off the
boat and sank
like
a stone in the water. In the split
second before her life vest bobbed her back up, Ventura’s whole life flashed
before her.

 
She felt herself
spiraling down…down into the cold, her hair swirling around her like strings of
seaweed. This was it
—
her
life’s most embarrassing moment, and she was going to die from it besides. Get
sucked right down into the murky depths of the Tidal Basin where she could meet
the ghosts of her great political forefathers: Jefferson, Lincoln,
Kennedy
… Who else was memorialized around here? Hang on one
second! It wasn’t about to be her! She held her breath and stretched up her
arms, kicking and flailing her way to the surface as her life vest lifted her
heavenward. She was nearly there when two strong hands grabbed her wrists and
pulled her into the light. Ventura gasped for air, sucking in a deep breath.

“Are you all right?”

She looked up at the man holding on to her as the others
crowded in with worried faces.

“I…think so,” she said with a cough.

Richard heaved a sigh of relief and smiled down at her. “Let
me help you out of there.”

He bent low to assist her as Ventura pressed her hands to
the dock and hoisted herself out of the water. Ventura crossed her arms in
front of her chest and stood there dripping. Her hair was a tangled mess, and
her sunglasses dangled from where they’d been caught up in her necklace.

“Thank you,” she told Richard as his two children stared at
her agape.

“Do you
know
her?”
the boy asked his dad with undisguised horror.

“Ricky, Elisa,” Richard said, grinning broadly. “I’d like
you to meet Ventura, your new nanny.”

Little Elisa threw her head back with a wail that could be
heard for miles around. “
Noooooo!
”

Chapter Five

The following Monday morning, Jason drove Ventura past the
US Capitol building and toward the Washington Monument, before crossing the
bridge that would lead them to Old Town Alexandria. The glistening waters of
the Potomac sparkled below as sailboats with colorful spinnakers drifted by. An
occasional motorboat tore across the waves, revving its engine and kicking up a
wake.

“Richard wanted me to apologize for the way his kids behaved
on Saturday,” Jason offered with a genial sideways glance.

“I’m sure I was a shock to them.”

“Still, they went a little overboard.”
Such
a PR man.
Ventura wondered what Richard paid him but ventured it had to
be in the high five figures. “I haven’t heard of them behaving that way for a
couple of nannies now.”

“A couple?” Ventura asked in shock. “How many have there
been?”

Jason set his jaw and peered through the windshield. “Oh,
six… No, seven.”

“Oh!”

“Since January, I mean.” He turned briefly to face her, then
set his eyes back on the road. “Altogether there’ve been fifteen.”

“Fifteen?” Ventura swallowed hard. “And how old are the
children?”

“The twins just turned five.”

Ventura divided quickly, figuring that was an average of three
nannies a year! And math wasn’t even her strength.

“Don’t worry,” Jason said, seeming to read her mind. “It’s
not nearly as bad as you think. Richard’s only been on his own for three
years.”

They drove down cobblestone streets, passing crowds of
shoppers and a guitar-strumming street musician huddled up against a curio
shop. Before long, Jason steered the car into a narrow parallel parking spot before
a quaint white-bricked townhome, complete with flowering window boxes and a
wrought iron front gate.

Two children bounded out the door as Ventura cautiously
exited the car.

“Ventura!” little Ricky said, racing toward her. “You came!”