Page 7 of The Night Nanny

“Hey, would you mind some company?” she asks, catching up to me. Her knees reach her hips as she jogs in place beside me.

Up close, she’s even more beautiful than from afar. Her porcelain skin is flawless with sky-high cheekbones, full lips, and an aquiline nose. And she has these amazing violet eyes—a light-bluish purple.

She looks familiar to me. Maybe because she looks a bit like my wife—well, at least before she got pregnant. I’ve always had a type—tall, blonde, and willowy. Ethereal beauties who resemble my magnificent maman.

May she rest in peace.

“Have we met before?” I ask. With her head-turning looks and toned body, maybe she’s a model, starlet, or influencer who came to the agency looking for representation.

“Not that I recall.” She gives me a quick once-over.

And I think I would remember her. I never forget the face of a beautiful woman.

“Well?” she says, her tone cajoling. “Can I run with you?”

“Sure, why not?” I tell her I’m heading back to the Chateau Marmont without revealing where I live. We start to jog, and I run at a slower than normal pace so that she can keep up with me. I’m enjoying having her company.

“How come I’ve never seen you before?” I ask.

“Usually I go for a run later in the day, but my work schedule changed.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a caregiver.” She gives me no room to probe. “But enough about me. What about you?”

I love it. She wants to talk about me. “I’m an agent at IMAGE…”

“IMAGE? The big Hollywood talent agency?” She pronounces it like I do. The breathy French way, accenting the second syllable. EE-MAHJ.

I can’t help grinning. “Yeah, that’s the one. I-M-A-G-E. It stands for Influencers, Musicians, Actors, Gamers, and Entertainers. I’m actually a founding partner.”

“That’s very impressive.”

I stare at her. “You know, you seem a bit familiar to me. Are you sure we’ve never met before? Maybe I’ve seen you on TV? YouTube? Or on TikTok. Are you an actor?”

“What makes you say that?”

“With your looks and everything, you must be.”

She laughs. “Isn’t everyone an actor?” She brings her left arm up and glances down at her watch. I notice she’s not wearing a wedding band. Nor is there any white band around her tanned ring finger to indicate she’s taken it off.

She lowers her arm. “I have to be somewhere soon. Do you want to race?”

“I don’t think I’m up for it.”

She turns her head my way. Her eyes travel up and down my sweaty body.

She smirks. “From the looks of you, I’d say you are.”

I feel myself heat.

“Well…?”

“Okay. Deal. On your mark, get set…GO!”

On my next breath, I charge ahead. Though I’m attracted to this intriguing woman, I’m not going to let her win. I’m competitive; that’s my nature. I don’t like to lose. Winning is everything. Winner takes all.

Despite my jet lag, I up my pace to a seven-minute mile, my feet pounding the pavement. Both my lungs and limbs burn as I propel myself forward. My breaths come out in hot, ragged pants. Sweat soaks my T-shirt. I look over my shoulder once to see how she’s doing. Good. She’s about a half block behind me, but I have to admit she’s fast. Her arms propelling her forward like the pistons of a locomotive, the look on her face is one of raw determination. We’re just a few blocks away from our finish point. I can taste victory on my tongue.