Page 20 of The Brigadier
I was about to turn back to my goodies when something caught my eye. It appeared to be someone standing directly in front of the closest streetlight, likely a male given the person’s broad shoulders. I wouldn’t think anything about it except for one thing.
He was staring up at the building and directly at my window. My vision was damn good and I could swear the man was staring at me. I was shocked as well as mesmerized, doing my best not to feel terror. Why should I? The street was filled with people coming and going, heading into the restaurants and a few hailing taxis.
But an icy chill shifted down my spine. My instincts were never wrong.
He was studying me.
Watching me.
And for the first time, I realized how lucky I’d been to have built-in security.
A lump formed in my throat, Sonya’s warning filtering into the front of my mind. Was it possible my true identity had been discovered and someone wanted revenge? Oh, lord. Maybe I’d been watching too many thrillers. Sonya was many things, including dramatic. Even my mother, her aunt had warned me.
Still, the timing couldn’t be any worse at this point. I would need to grill the woman when I saw her again both so I could mention it to my father and so I could move on.
I shifted to the edge of the window, turning to face my apartment as I tried to catch my breath. Suddenly, I was furious with myself. I was going to allow some jerk who likely followed me from the subway since I’d been stupid enough to wear the Rolex scare me? Not a fucking chance. I was a big girl trained in weaponry, martial arts, and other police techniques.
Hissing, I jumped in front of the window again, ready to give him attitude.
Only he, if it had been a he at all, had disappeared.
I needed more wine.
CHAPTER 8
Nikolay
Hiring a nanny.
All I could say was ugh and I needed a stiff drink.
It was barely eleven in the morning and I’d interviewed three already.
They’d all sucked.
Okay, maybe I shouldn’t be thinking that way, but one had been about eighty years old and seemingly very sweet, but she’d carried a cane and dared tell me using it could cure all.
Really?
Another had been timid, so fearful when Damien had almost thrown a tantrum, I’d asked her to leave.
And the third? I wasn’t into blue and green hair or dozens of piercings. The girl had smacked her gum the entire time, tellingme she was normally paid four thousand a month plus provided room and board.
How could I forget? Also, a car that she was allowed to keep if things didn’t work out.
I was very good at weeding out candidates who were floating lies and bullshit.
But Jesus Christ, I was stressed out of my mind at this point. I’d even talked to two on the phone and it had taken all I had not to slam down the phone.
After checking my watch, I realized the fourth candidate was ten minutes late already. That didn’t bode well either.
I’d talked to an agency as well, but with my son being listed as autistic, which I didn’t believe for a second, nanny candidates were few and far between.
“Sir.” Amanda walked into the room.
I turned my head, studying the very conservative woman who looked older than her years. She’d been a very good nanny, staying longer than most but I understood my son could take a toll on the strongest of resolves. What I’d tried to relay to each and every person who’d worked for me was that he could pinpoint weakness or fear with the best of them.
If Damien believed for a second someone was even a little bit afraid of him, he made it his life’s mission to drive the person into misery. The kid was actually brilliant, knowing exactly what he was doing. I sensed it.