Broken French: A widowed, billionaire, single dad romance Natasha Boyd (i read books .TXT) 📖

my mother and by extension to me. “Not that I have a lot of good male influences to call on … but they have to be out there. Good men. Kind men.”

“Kind is sooo sexy,” Meredith said wistfully. “Men who are kind, who read, love animals, love kids, and bring their women tea in bed.”

Tabitha raised her glass. “And always make sure she comes first.”

I raised my glass to Tabitha, and Meredith joined in. “I’ll drink to that.”

“I bet the Frenchie is kind,” Tabitha said.

“The sad, hot, Frenchman?” I clarified.

“One and the same.”

“But he’s, like, a squillionaire,” said Meredith. “So that makes me think he might not be so good at the make-sure-she-comes-first thing. My theory is that men who are hot and rich don’t have to try as hard to keep their women happy. They’re entitled and used to getting what they want without working for it. Case in point, Cincinnati Man. Deliciously handsome. Loaded. Gorgeous wife and kids that he doesn’t appreciate. And he’s still out there expecting more. And I can tell you, I definitely did not come first. Or at all for that matter.”

“Nooo,” Tabitha breathed in shock. “That’s criminal.”

Meredith slapped the table. “And that’s why I sent him a—”

“Bag of dicks!” we all screeched in unison as we busted out into hysterics.

After our laughter had died down and we ordered another round of drinks, I gave a happy sigh. “I really needed this, guys. Thank you.”

“I needed it too,” said Tabs. “I hate letting clients down. It made the whole day feel shitty. Especially on top of what happened to you. But I’ve honestly reached out to every contact I have, and no one is available at such short notice to go nanny for this family. It would be a plum job for the right person. He offered to triple the normal rate. I’ve even reached out to other agencies I trust, wanting to give them the lead. But there’s no one. And people who haven’t already got summer placements are either looking for short-term weekender gigs to fit around other stuff they have going on or full-on long-term contracts. No one who I can stake the reputation of my agency on is available right now for six to eight weeks.”

The server dropped off our drinks and a basket of tortilla chips. Clearly, we looked as though we might need to soak up some alcohol.

“But we live in Charleston,” Meredith said. “It’s a college town. And this is a summer job. Surely there’s someone.”

“You’d think. But I can’t just pluck a random college student. Even with a background check they might be crazy or try and sleep with the dad. I can’t risk it. He has the most gorgeous little girl too. And they’ve been through a lot. His wife died a couple of years ago, and no way, I can’t risk sending the wrong person.”

“You could do it,” I suggested.

Tabs shook her head. “Ha! I wish. My days of nannying are over. And you know my sister is getting married next month, I have to go home to Aiken for the whole lead up. I’m taking a much-needed break from my business.”

Meredith slapped her palm on the table, making us both jump. “Josie could do it.”

“Do what?”

“Go to France and nanny for the sad, hot, Frenchie.”

My belly disappeared down to my feet. And then I barked out a laugh. “No way.”

Tabitha turned her head and stared at me, her brown eyes suddenly glittering with hope and excitement, like I was a fat trout at last light.

“No. No, no, no. Don’t look at me like that.” I shook my head. “She was joking.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Meredith chirped.

“Shh,” I hissed at her. “Are you crazy?”

Meredith popped a tortilla chip into her mouth. “Nope. I’m a genius.”

“Tabitha. It’s the drink talking,” I reasoned. “I have student loans. Rent to pay. I need to get my resume vamped up and out to other firms.”

Tabitha dragged her eyes off me to Meredith. “You are a genius, Mer.”

“No, she’s not,” I whined. “She’s dumb.”

“That was low, Marin, but I’ll let it slide.” Meredith popped another chip in her mouth like it was popcorn and she was settled in for the entertainment. “And please, let’s not forget, Josie, that your Pinterest board is covered in Frenchy French things.”

“That’s only because of my dad’s family heritage.” And mine, obviously. Meredith was right though, I had a whole board dedicated to all things French. Little old medieval towns, cobbled streets, old farmhouses, fancy chateaux, cafes, vignettes of French farm tables piled high with baguettes and fruit with sunshine spilling in from some old thrown back pale blue antique shutters. Okay, so for someone who’d never been, I could qualify as interested in going. But it was a bucket list item. It would happen some day. Not tomorrow for goodness’ sake.

“Please,” Tabitha pleaded. “Literally no one else is available on such short notice. It will be awesome, I promise.”

“Hold on, hold on,” I said. “Aren’t you getting a little carried away here? I’m an architect, not a qualified child minder. I don’t know the first thing about being a nanny and watching kids. I don’t even think I like kids—”

“That’s because you’ve only met my brother’s kids and they’re little shitheads,” Meredith explained gravely.

I pointed at her. “That’s a true story. But I’m being serious.”

Tabs suddenly grabbed my pointing hand. The look in her brown eyes turned her into a puppy. At the shelter. On Christmas Eve.

“Oh, no. Tabs.” I shook my head side to side. “Don’t give me the eyes.”

“You’d be doing me a massive favor,” Tabs pressed. “Saving my ass and helping my business. I’d really like that commission. It’s great money for you too. Especially while you look for another job. And I know you. I trust you. You’re responsible and loyal. I know this family. They need a good person. A nice person. They’ve been through a lot. Think of it as doing a really good deed for several people