Page 1 of The Accidental Nanny (All Of You #1)

CHAPTER ONE

Gemma

A dmiring myself in the mirror, I smile at the way the white mini dress shows off my flat stomach and slight curves. It suits me.

“Fern, what do you think?” I place the matching white shoes on my feet before stepping out of the changing room, twirling around for her.

“I thought your parents said you were meant to be searching for a job, not shopping again?” She frowns at me.

“Oh, my God, seriously? How do they expect me to find a husband if I don’t look my best?” I say, staring back at the mirror and giving myself an appreciative once-over.

“It sounds like you want a sugar daddy.”

She hasn’t noticed the sales assistant who walked into the changing area. The lady looks at us both as she takes the pile of discarded clothes that are left on the rack.

Fern’s face blushes when she realises what she said. I would never be friends with her if it weren’t for her stepbrother. She’s too geeky and as virginal as they come, but Wesley is super-hot .

I befriended her at school when I found out they were related, even if it was by marriage. My aim was to get with him, but he must be gay or something, as he never looked my way. Fern assured me he wasn’t. I felt sorry for her once I knew her better and decided she needed me.

“Don’t be such a Debbie Downer. My parents make threats all the time.

They never follow through. What are you wearing tonight?

” When she doesn’t answer, I look at her jeans and unflattering top.

“Oh no. Not on my watch. If you want to be seen with me in public, you're not wearing that.” I look at a woman walking past us.

“Excuse me, can you get me the blue dress in the window? Size twelve.”

“I don’t work here,” the woman replies.

“Find someone who does.” Does she think I have all day? The woman walks off, ignoring me. “Rude.”

“Gem, you can’t speak to people like that. She was a customer,” Fern says in earnest.

“Well, she didn’t look like one.” Looking around for someone to help me, I can’t see anyone.

“I’ll get it.” Fern walks off.

Checking myself out, I admire my new dress again, waiting for her return.

“Gem, I can’t afford this.” Fern stands there with the dress in her hand, looking at the price tag.

“Why?” I snatch the blue maxi-dress out of her hands. It’s only a little shy of two thousand pounds.

“I don’t earn that much, and I’m saving for my new car,” Fern insists.

“Your brother can buy it. He’s got enough money,” I point out.

“No,” she says, her voice firm.

“You deserve to pamper yourself, and it will complement your red hair perfectly. Plus, you have the height to pull it off. Just try it. You don’t have to buy it but at least see how you feel when you’re wearing it. ”

She agrees but I can tell she’s reluctant.

I quickly get dressed in my own clothes and wait for her.

When she steps out of the dressing room, I can’t bring myself to admit how envious I am of her curvaceous figure.

She thinks she is too big at five foot ten, but Fern doesn’t realise how stunning she is.

“See. Come on.” I stand by her side.

“I can’t. I don’t get an allowance like you.”

“What about your inheritance.”

Her face turns red, and her lips close as she breathes heavily through her nose. I might have said the wrong thing. I know this is a sore spot for her.

“That isn’t there so I can spend it on a dress,” she says whilst rushing to get back into her own clothes.

“Fern, I didn’t mean it. I just wanted you to enjoy tonight. You've been withdrawn since—” I try to argue with her, but she cuts me off.

“No, this is me. I’ll see you later.”

I grab my stuff and the dress she left on the rails. Heading over to look at the shoes, I pick some up to match her outfit, then pay for our items.

The trip home is short, and I can’t help but wonder what's up with Fern. She never storms out on me. It’s so unlike her. I contemplate if she’s on her period. I mean, that's the only reason she would be so moody, right? I didn't say anything wrong other than mention her inheritance.

Mum and Dad are waiting for me when I arrive home. They’re sitting in the conservatory overlooking the vast garden. The lawn is being tended by one of the gardeners, no doubt giving it the perfect stripes my parents insist on.

They happily spend money on the staff, but not their own daughter. My allowance is down to just twenty thousand a month. Apparently, the staff deserved a pay rise what with having to deal with me and Brody since he moved back home, or so my mother said.

“How was the job hunting?” Mum asks me.

“Good. I found a couple of options,” I say, bending the truth into a pretzel.

“Don’t lie. Brody saw you shopping with Fern,” Dad shouts.

“That snitch,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Gemma, you were meant to be looking for work. How much did you spend this time?” He places the tea he was drinking on the table before him, waiting for my response.

“Oh, it’s not that bad. Just six thousand.”

“Six!” Dad exclaims.

“Well, it’s not all for me,” I admit. "I wanted to do something nice for someone."

“Explain,” he grumbles.

“Fern didn’t want to spend two thousand on a dress and shoes.

Well… she doesn’t know about the shoes, but they are so cute.

” I smile. “I couldn’t leave them behind, so I got them for her for tonight," I explain. "Anyway, I’m sure I’ll find a husband.

” I watch as both my parents shake their heads at me. "What?"

“Gemma…” Dad runs his fingers against his forehead. “Get this notion out of your head that you will stumble upon a husband who will let you spend his money. You’re twenty-five. You have one week.”

“One week for what?” Dad’s confusing me.

“If you don’t find a job, you’re out of the house,” he says with a note of finality.

“Seriously?” I yell. “That’s so unfair. How am I supposed to find a husband or a job in a week?” I drop my face into my hands.

“I mean it,” he says, his voice showing no sign of compromise. “ Credit card.” He stretches his hand out in front of him, waiting for me to hand it over.

“What?” my mind slow to catch on.

“Give me your credit card.”

“But…”

“Now!” Dad roars.

I get my purse out of my handbag to give him the black card. He has a pair of scissors handy on the table next to him. In one swift motion, he cuts right through the chip. He must have had this all planned.

“But,” I say as tears run down my cheeks, “how do you expect me to get a job? I’m too pretty.”

“This is our fault,” my mother says in exasperation.

“I’m going to Fern’s.” I head back into the house and out the front door with my parents calling after me. I ignore them as I jump into my hot-pink Lamborghini and speed away.

A short drive later, I pull onto the driveway of Fern’s house, which she shares with her stepbrother, Wesley.

After losing her whole family, Wesley moved back home to be with her.

Unlike Brody, he always looks out for her, like a big brother should.

She can’t afford to run the house on her stupid salary.

She needs him. Not just for his money but on a emotional level too. Even I can see that.

Standing at her front door with the bag of clothes in my one hand, I keep pressing the bell with the other until someone comes.

When Wesley answers the door, he stands there in a towel, hard abs on show.

His thick, dark, curly hair is wet. I want to run my hands through it.

Wesley Fletcher is the hottest man I've ever laid eyes on. I lick my lips. I just need one taste.

“Hello, Gem. How did I know it was you? Fern is in her bedroom. I don’t know what’s wrong with her.” His eyes lock with mine; he catches me staring, and I’m not even ashamed.

“I’ll deal with it.” God, he is so sexy. I pretend to trip as I move forward, placing my hands on his chest and feeling him. So smooth.

“I’m sorry, I fell,” I lie.

“Sure you did.” He waits for me to remove my hands.

“Are you coming tonight?” I ask hopeful.

This would be my night. I would wow him in my new dress, and we would get married. Our children would be beautiful; the little girl would have my golden hair and his curls, and our son would have his strong jawline. It would be a match made in heaven.

“Yes, I’m just getting ready now.”

“Okay. I’ll find Fern. I bought her a dress. She said it was too expensive and something about needing a new car.”

He shows no emotion towards my words.

“Well, I better get ready,” I mumble. Leaving Mr. Hotness behind, I make my way up to Fern’s room. “Just me,” I call before I enter.

As I open the door, I see my best friend lying on the bed with her legs open, pleasuring herself. Her eyes go wide.

“Fern!”

“Gemma!”

We both scream.

Fern needs a full wax. I bring the shopping bag up to my eyes, covering my view. I wait until she gives me the all-clear before removing it. She is blushing, I’m just thankful her legs are closed.

“What are you doing walking in here like that?”

“When did you last shave?” That’s my only concern right now.

“Oh, I don’t,” she admits with a blush. "It leaves an awful rash."

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that.” Her purple bullet vibrator is on the bedside table beside her. “And when did you buy that? It wasn’t with me.”

“Online,” she says, her face still crimson .

“I’ve got this for you.” I pull her dress and shoes out of the bag I’m holding.

“Gemma, you shouldn’t have.” She slides to the edge of the bed and gives me a tentative smile.

“Enjoy. Dad cut up my credit card. Brody ratted me out for shopping instead of job hunting. My parents will kick me out next week if I don’t find something.” I take off my clothes, except my underwear, and I grab a clean towel out of her wardrobe.

“What are you doing?” She watches me as I make my way to her bathroom.

“I need a shower, then we’ll get ready,” I explain.

I freshen up and dry my hair before I use some makeup to spruce up my face. I want to be natural but sexy—just enough so Wesley will see my beauty shine through.

Fern also showers and gets dressed, leaving her hair to dry on its own despite my protests.

Wesley is waiting for us in the hallway, and I smile at him as we descend the stairs.

"You both look lovely," he says to both of us, but I have this nagging feeling he only means Fern.

"Thank you. I worked hard on us."

The three of us get into a taxi to go to the annual Easter charity ball the Edwards family hold in their garden. This year, the money is going to the local children’s cancer unit, a cause close to their hearts.

Wesley opens the car door, taking my hand. His grip is so strong. I give him my best smile as I pretend to fall into him again.

“Really, Gem. You always fall over when you see me. Handy that I can catch you each time, huh?” It sounded like he was annoyed, but I couldn’t understand why.

When we arrive at the Edward estate, we walk through the house to the garden.

The servers hold sparkling glasses with champagne on silver trays.

I grab one, spotting my parents and brother under a gazebo near some heaters.

I make my way over. Of course, the three of them are in conversation. They have forgotten all about me.

“Mum, Dad, Brody.”

“So, that’s your new dress. It’s a bit revealing,” Dad says.

I look down at my white dress. There is a little cleavage on show, but not much.

“Virginal,” Brody quips. “Red would have suited you better.” I smack him on the arm, and he mock flinches.

“Dad, tell him.”

“That’s enough, Brody. He has a point, though,” Dad replies.

“Why do you always take his side? He’s a loser. Look at him. He’s dressed like a grandad.” My brother is wearing a brown tweed suit. I look at my father, who’s wearing the same thing. “That’s just sad. When do I get my credit card back?”

“When you get a job. You have one week, or you’re out of the house. If you can get a real interview, I might reconsider my decision.”

“Can’t I work for you?”

“What do you know about digital marketing?”

“I have a big enough following.”

“You went to college and did childcare. You wanted to work for a nursery.”

“I didn’t expect to have to deal with screaming toddlers all day. They get so mucky.”

“Gemma, no more discussion. You have one week. You need to find a job, or you’re out. It’s not that we haven’t given you plenty of chances. Spending my money, partying, and documenting your life on social media does not qualify as a job.”

I stomp my foot in anger.

“Told you, Dad. She has no aspirations in life.” My brother takes a step back out of my parents’ sight and smirks at me .

“At least I’m not a telltale suck-up like you,” I snarl at him.

“I have a proper job and don’t need our parents’ money,” Brody points out.

I look at my mother, who hasn’t said anything yet.

“I agree with your father and brother. Gemma, you need to show some responsibility,” she’s taking their side.

“You don’t work. You married Dad and had us,” I point out.

“Get out of my sight. I’ve had enough of this,” Dad complains, turning away from me.

My parents hate me. I've never been good enough for them. Brody has always been the golden boy. I walk away, downcast. My life is over.