Read Online The Nanny Diaries by Emma McLaughlin, Nicola Kraus - Free Book Online Page B

with the office and then I'll do the place cards. Is Mrs. X coming backsoon?""Nottill eight."
    She picks up the phone and bends over the mahogany desk to peer at a framed picture of Mr. X with Grayer atophis shouldersatthefootof a skislope.
    "NAN-NY,I'M FIIII-NISHED!"
    "Okay, well, let me know if you need anything else," I say from the doorway as she slips off her black pearlearringanddials. "Thankyou!" shemouths,giving me a thumbs-up.
    Nanny,
    As aruleI don. likeGrayertohavetoomanycarbohydratesbeforebed. TonightI. eleft all hisfoodalreadymeasuredoutonthecounter. Ifyoucouldjustputthebeets,thekale,andthekohlrabi inthesteamerfortwelve minutesthatshouldbeperfect, butpleasetrytostayoutofthecaterers?way.
    You should probably give Grayer his dinner in his room. Actually, I might need to bring my dinner guests through when I give the tour. So it. probably best for you both to take your plates intohis bathroomwhileyoueat?in caseofspills.
    p.s. I. counting on you to stay until Grayer is asleep and make sure that he doesn. intrude on the meal.

    p.p.s. I. lneedyoutopickupGrayer. Halloweencostume tomorrow.

    "Martini, straight up. o olive." Having steamed Grayer's dinner intoan unrecognizablemush, burned myhandintheprocess, andnearlyscaldedGrayer several times,thenhavingto dineatop his toiletseat, I am truly ready to "take the edge off." I shift on the bar stool, wondering if, perhaps, I could work for that redhead from Chicago. ove to Illinois, try on investment banking, and spend my days preparing herpb & j.
    I reach into my bag for my pay envelope and fish out a twenty for the bartender. It's thicker this week and I count over three hundred in cash. I realize that while I'm exhausted and probably on my way to somesort ofsubstance-abuseproblem, theupsideofworkingthreetimesas manyhours as I'd agreedto is that I'm making three times as much money. It's only the second week of the month and the rent is alreadycovered.Andthereisthatpair ofblackleatherpantsI've hadmyeye on ...
    THE NANNY DIARIES
    I justneed half an hour of quiet before I can go home to Char-leneand her hairy pilot boyfriend. I don't wanttotalk,1 don't wanttolisten,andI mostdefinitely donotwanttocook.1 mean,goodGod,having your hairy boyfriend sleep over when you share a studio apartment. Not okay. Not okay at all. I am countingthedays untilshe's slottedfortheAsiaroute.
    "Yo, yo, check this out!" The blond homeboy in the Brooks Brothers ensemble motions for his "posse" tocheckouthis PalmPilotatthecornertable. Classic.
    Normally, I avoid Dorrian's and its preppy clientele like the clap. But it was directly on my path home and the bartender makes a terrific martini. And 1 did have to "take my edge off." Besides, off-season is usuallypretty safe,oncethey all returntoschool.
    I count five white baseball hats huddled over their friend's new toy. Despite only being in college, they all have portable cellular devices of some kind or another hanging off their yuppy utility belts. The years change, the corduroy jackets of the seventies giving way to the flipped-up collars of the eighties, theplaidshirts ofthenineties, andtheGore-Texofthenewmillennium,but theirmentalityis asageless asthered-checkedtablecloths.
    I am so riveted that I automatically follow their gaze when they turn to the door. In keeping with the tenor of my day, who should walk in but my very own Harvard Hottie, sans chapeau blanc. And he knows them. Ugh. I take a long swig as the vision I'd been savoring of him healing children in Tibet morphsintooneofhimin a suitontheflooroftheNewYork StockExchange.
    "Is that good? You like that?" Oh God, there's one standing right next to me. Roll 'em up, kids, roll 'em up.
    "What?" I ask, noting his South Carolina baseball hat, which proudly proclaims COCKS across the frontinthree-inchcrimson letters.
    "Maaar-tiii-niiis. Pretty hard stuff, don't you think?" he says a little too close to my face and then

    screamsover myhead, "Yo! Get
    off your asses and give me a hand with these