Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed Taxi and now here is my latest offering. Please accept my apologies for incorrectly referring to Gabriella as Latino and not Latina :)
Chapter 1
"Are you a pervert, paedophile or have you suffered mental illness?"
Gabriella Montez posed her pen against the Yes/No boxes of her interview questionnaire sheet, only looking up when her interviewee didn't speak.
"None of the above?" The brown-haired, blue-eyed, god-like figure seated on her sofa guessed, his thick brows tugging up attractively.
"I have to ask…" She explained.
"Of course."
"Why did you decide to become a nanny?"
The question was a standard one but somehow it was more relevant where her male interviewee was concerned. She'd interviewed eight people so far, him being the only guy.
He shrugged. "I can't deny that babies love me," he smiled haplessly and she found something adorable in his boyish look. "I'm good at it," he added seriously, meeting her gaze.
She paused. "The baby's not due for another six weeks but I need help now. Can you start next week?"
"I can start tomorrow." He chipped in.
"I need your references." She reminded him and he went into his small zip-up folder, his suit clashing with his hand-messed hair and mischievous eyes hidden behind thick black frames that were meant to make him look professional and serious and somehow only made him look sexier.
"Here you go…" He handed the sheet to her.
Gabi flicked through the comments, scanning his reasons for leaving and seeing nothing untoward.
"Thank you, I'll be in touch." She nodded, momentarily distracted by the sheet and then standing to see him out.
He rubbed his hands together nervously as they both stood, Gabi placing her hand on her swollen tummy as she frowned.
"Is everything ok?" She asked him when he didn't make to leave.
"She's kicking, right?" He guessed easily, flicking a look to her belly. "It hurts?"
Gabi blinked her large brown eyes at him and opened her mouth.
He blushed. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have said anything…"
"No, what were you going to say?" She wondered.
He twisted his lips. "Can I feel?" He asked.
She smiled, so used to having total strangers just itching to touch her bump, she was now relaxed with anyone touching there.
"Sure," she walked out from behind the coffee table and his large, warm hand rested across the mound of her pregnancy, instantly soothing her fidgeting child.
"You said she," she looked up to him bemusedly as his therapy worked.
"Oh, you didn't tell me that?" He checked.
She shook her head and he smiled, removing his hand. "It's just a guess."
"Uh huh," she waddled to the door, opening it with a disbelieving look.
"I have zero chance of getting this job, don't I?" He joked sheepishly, waving as cutely as he smiled on his way out.
"I'll be in touch."
/
Troy Bolton was a handsome man. Gabi couldn't deny it as she watched him being geeky-adorable trying to put together a cot for her unborn baby. She also couldn't deny it had featured in her list of reasons to hire him.
The women had been great but he really had something. Something she couldn't put her finger on but that had persuaded her to employ him all the same.
She hid her smile as he swore softly when two previously joined parts of his construction fell apart.
"This is harder than it looks," he accused of her hidden amusement.
She gave him a long look and went over to help, placing all the pieces out logically and then studying the instruction manual- something he had so far failed to do.
Kneeling, she began to place them together, lifting the hammer in preparation.
"Ah, no," he scolded, kneeling beside her and taking the tool from her hand. "What needs hitting?"
She read the instructions one by one, watching the cot construct before her eyes, finally smiling in happiness as the finished bed swung before her and she found tears springing forth as she covered her mouth with her hands.
"It's perfect!" She lifted her hands away momentarily to speak and Troy looked down, hands on hips crowing his success.
"Hey, are you okay?" He checked, reaching down to touch her shoulder.
She shook her head. "My legs have gone numb and I can't get up."
He sighed in relief and offered his support while she stood and regained circulation.
"I hate being fat sometimes."
"You're not fat," he chided. "You're carrying a child."
She nodded only, sadness sweeping over her face. "A one-parent child." She added, her thoughts vocalised.
He'd never asked- it wasn't relevant- but he had secretly wondered, where's the father? Who is Mr. Montez? Only it didn't seem like there was one.
Troy pushed up the dark framed specs on his nose and peeked at her, Clark-Kent style. "Is the father not around?" he asked softly.
"He left me. When he found out." She described, lifting her hurt eyes to his, showing him her sorrow.
He rubbed her arm comfortingly. "I've worked for plenty of single mother's and they all do a great job." He assured. "You'll be no different."
"But my child loses his or her father," she commented. "That makes me sad."
"She'll have everything she needs in you." He stated confidently, making her smile.
"Still convinced it's a girl?" Her brows rose and he nodded. "How come?"
"The way your bump sits." He smiled knowingly, his long lashes evident even behind his specs.
Gabi curled on the sofa and invited him to sit beside her as she admired his handiwork.
"Do tell…"
"Boys- big ass. Girls- big bump." He shrugged, pressing his lips in.
"I have a big ass, too," she arched her black brow.
"But your bump is out." He stated.
"Are you trying to say my ass is always this fat?" She enquired lightly, teasing him.
"Not at all." He assured easily. "You're perfectly proportioned."
She giggled at him; touching her 'outtie' bump protectively.
"If you're right, I'm gonna kill you," she warned.
"Why?"
"I wanted it to be a surprise."
"Hey, what do I know?" He flicked his lashes down shyly, his fringe covering his forehead.
"A lot." She teased.
"How about Bolognese for dinner?" He suggested, jumping up to cook.
"Okay, but you don't have to cook every night…" She frowned, watching him vanish with boundless energy.
"I like it!" He called from the kitchen.
"It's your day off tomorrow." She called back. "I expect you to be out until all hours…"
He poked his head through the island that joined the kitchen and the living area. "I'll try."
"What do you do in your time off?" She wondered.
"Visit friends. See my mom. Surf." He grinned to himself as he chopped onions.
"You surf?" She repeated disbelievingly.
"Yep," he agreed happily.
"Sounds fun."
"You wanna come down and watch me? We could take a picnic, give little bump some air…" he suggested, coming through with a hunk of fresh bread for her, copiously buttered; already knowing her cravings even when she didn't voice them. It still un-nerved her but she'd given up trying to explain him.
"Little bump?" She questioned.
He smiled. "What else should I call her?"
"Do you name all your client's bumps?" She wondered.
"Nope. But I've never had a bump before. I always get hired after the birth." His eyes twinkled and she got lost in them, taking a bite of her bread.
"Am I safe in the sun?"
"If you cover up…" he nodded.
"Okay then." She agreed, laying down for a moment while he returned to the kitchen.
He came back in later, his spoon loaded with sauce for her to taste only he found her fast asleep. He smiled softly, taking his taster back before he covered her over and left her dinner in cellophane for her to heat up later. He retreated to his room with his own meal, flicking on his TV, his rare chance to watch the sports channel monopolised.