Broken French: A widowed, billionaire, single dad romance, Natasha Boyd [e reader books .TXT] 📗

Meredith leaned forward and took my other hand. “You need a fresh start. A place to lick your wounds and figure out your next steps. Somewhere you can’t wallow. You can send your resume out from France just as easily as from here.”

That was true at least. The thought of waking up every day realizing my dream had just been flushed into the sewer and I was going to have to dig around down there and pull it out and try to get the stench off was almost too much to think about right now. I’d worked so freaking hard. For so many years. I was fucking exhausted if I was being truthful. And worse, I realized, I’d been running without moving forward for quite some time. That was why this promotion mirage today had hurt all the more. Never mind the sleaze factor. That was just topping on the shit pie.

“What have you got to lose?” asked Meredith.

Nothing, I answered mentally.

I needed to leap off the edge and trust the universe.

It was France. Somewhere I’d always wanted to go. Somewhere I thought I’d go with my dad one day. He would want me to go.

But there was no way I could be that impulsive.

Could I? That wasn’t me.

The idea grew and grew in my chest—a bubble of nerves, but mostly excitement, until I found I could hardly breathe. “Hell, yes,” I suddenly burst out. “I’m going to France!”

“Please, Josie, I—wait, what?” Tabitha blinked twice and a cloud parted across her face. “Josephine Marin, did you just say, yes?”

“Yes,” I confirmed and felt my heart rate triple. I wasn’t an impulsive person and yet today, I’d upped and quit a job without thinking it through and now I was agreeing to—“Wait. I’m not saying yes, yet,” I backtracked in a panic. “But hypothetically, where would a nanny be going exactly?” I’d seen pictures of the industrial areas around the cities. This guy was a billionaire. Which meant he probably needed a nanny while he worked. What if he lived high up in a penthouse in an ugly city, and I never got to experience the France of my dreams? “And I need straight truth right now. Am I going to be nannying next to a smokestack? And are you sending someone to childmind the demon spawn? Is that why no one else will take the job?”

She gave a smirk. “South of France, no and no. They are an amazing family. At least they seemed to be when Arriette—Mrs. Pascale—was alive.”

My heart rate wasn’t slowing down. South of France? I’d taken French in school and always meant to do a refresher. I’d thought I had plenty of time. What if I couldn’t speak to anyone? And what about nannying experience? Was I really going to do this? I grabbed my gin and took three hearty gulps.

Meredith seemed to realize I was freaking out. “Hey there. Breathe,” she demanded.

“I—I don’t have enough experience, do I?”

“You babysat tons growing up,” Meredith assured me, then frowned. “Didn’t you?”

“I have an in at the YMCA,” Tabs cut in before I could answer. “I’ll get you in tomorrow’s Child and Adult CPR and First Aid class. No problem. You need that anyway to be covered under my company’s insurance policy.”

“Insurance policy? Like if something happens to the child on my watch?” The magnitude of responsibility was growing bigger. “Oh my God, I can’t breathe. What did I just do? How old is the kid again?”

Tabitha was now stroking my hand like I was a wild horse about to bolt. “You’re not as qualified as some of my girls. Actually, at all. I’m going to tell Xavier Pascale you’re not normally a nanny. But that you’re good with kids. He just needs someone he can trust. Dauphine is ten. She’s hardly a baby. It will be a walk in the park. A walk in paradise even. I’ll tell him I’m staking my reputation on you. That I trust you. And I do.”

I swallowed.

In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose. Out through the mouth.

“Josie,” Mer cooed softly. “Tabs was so desperate, I almost quit the bank and took the job myself. But with what happened to you today, I believe it was divine intervention. If you hate it, call us and we’ll figure something out. But give yourself a chance, Josie. Go grab a slice of paradise and get some perspective. Work on your resume from there. Shit, go look at a shit ton of European Architecture.”

Chills raced over my skin at that. “It really is an architectural mecca. So many influences. So much history. I never thought I’d have a chance to go for years at least.”

Meredith nodded. “And it doesn’t hurt that you’ll get to look upon Xavier Pascale’s face every day,” she said dreamily. “Have you Googled him? You should.” She fanned herself.

“Mer,” Tabitha snapped. “She can’t see him like that. She can’t. He’s off-limits.”

“Fine.”

“I’m serious. This is my business.”

“Yes, yes. When was just looking a crime?”

“It’s fine, Tabs. You can trust me.” I slid my eyes to Meredith with a cheeky smirk. “I’ve never been attracted to the family man type.”

Meredith gasped with feigned drama. “Again. Low blow, Marin. I’m keeping score.”

“You do that. But you’ll have to do it from across the ocean.” I grabbed a chip and a chance. “Coz I’m going to France, baby!”

Chapter Five

My neck ached as I straightened it and blinked my eyes open. I flexed my jaw. Ouch. My hand rubbed at the offending area. I was leaning my head against the glass of the train window, and the pressure was now spreading into a dull headache. Having only fallen asleep half an hour before landing, I’d been a zombie getting through customs and finding the train station. Somehow, I’d found a place that sold baguette sandwiches and fallen upon one like a woman possessed before passing out on the train to Nice. I wiped at some drool on my chin.

“Nous