Find Me Alastar(4)





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Customs is ridiculously slow and a man has been pulled into the office up ahead. Don’t tell me the idiot has been busted for drugs…

“What do you reckon he did?” Brelly murmurs as she cranes her neck to spy on the commotion.

“I don’t know. Something stupid probably.” We shuffle up as the line moves forward. “I wish we had come earlier so we had a week together before you start work,” I murmur.

“Yeah I know, but she needed me to start this week because she is going away next week. I need to learn the kids’ routine before she leaves.”

I shake my head. “Who leaves their kids for three days with a complete stranger?”

“My new boss, apparently.” She shrugs.

“Well, at least I can come and stay with you when she’s away next week. That’s a plus,” I add. “Yeah, but I’m sneaking you in. I don’t want it to look like we are partying or anything.”

I smile broadly.

“What?’ She smirks.

“We’re here.” She pulls her shoulders together and widens her eyes. “Oh my God, I know. I just hope her and the kids are nice.” I raise my chin optimistically. “They will be. Who couldn’t be nice to you?”

Looking down at herself she tries to smooth the wrinkles from her skirt. “She is picking me up. Do I look okay?”

Brielle is a beautiful girl with dark brown hair that hangs just below her shoulders and a figure to die for. She has the straightest, whitest teeth known to man after having thousands of dollars’ worth of Orthodontic work which her father always reminds us about. Any employer will be so lucky to get her. She’s way too good for that imbecile on the other side of the world.

I smile nervously for her. “You look exactly what a twenty-five-year-old school teacher nanny from Australia should look like.”

She bites her bottom lip to hide her smile.

“So, what’s the boss’s name?” I frown.

She rustles through her bag and pulls out her phone to read the email from the nanny agency.

“Mrs. Julian Masters.”

I nod. “And what’s her story again? I know you told me before but I’ve forgotten.”

Brielle’s eyes light up with excitement. “She is a Supreme Court Judge, was widowed five years ago.”

I frown. “What happened to the husband?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know that yet. Apparently she’s quite wealthy.” She shrugs. “Two kids, well behaved.”

“Sounds good.”

“I hope so.” She frowns. “I just hope they like me.”

“They will.”

The line shuffles up in front and I feel my nerves rise again. “So, we are definitely going out at the weekend yes?”

She nods. “Yes.” Her eyes flick to me. “What are you going to do until then?”

I shrug. “Look around, I guess. I start work on Monday and it’s Thursday today. Are you sure you can go out on the weekends?” “Yes!” she snaps exasperated. “I told you a thousand times, we are going out on Saturday night.”

I nod nervously. “Yeah, right. Okay.”

“Did you get that thingy for your phone sorted?” she asks.

I frown. “Not yet, I will find a phone shop tomorrow so you can call me.”

“And Mark is picking you up?” she asks.

“Yes,” I mutter as I look around nervously. My heart rate has picked up dramatically at the mere thought.

She smirks cheekily and I shake my head in a dismissive gesture. The truth of the matter is that I have no idea what the attraction to Mark is. I may not even like him in the flesh, although I think it would be highly unlikely if I didn’t. We seem to get along very well, and it was at his insistence that I applied for this job.

“I need to go to the bathroom. How long is the drive from the airport to where we are staying?”

Brielle shrugs. “No idea.”

My eyes scan the customs area for a bathroom. “It must be on the other side of the gates.”

We are called to the front of the line to the customs desk, then half an hour later we exit, walking into the arrivals of London International airport. It’s a noisy, crowded, bustling space, and a row of men stand to the left along the wall holding small signs with names of the people that they are picking up. We both look around nervously.

“Do you see our name?” I ask.

“No.”

“Shit, no one is here to pick us up!” I snap. “Typical.”

“Relax, they will be here,” Brelly murmurs.

We keep walking toward the baggage terminal but I still don’t see anyone with either of our names on their signs.

“What do we do if nobody turns up?” I frown.

She runs her hands through her hair as her eyes scan the space. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m going to lose my shit.”

I look over her shoulder and see a tall, broad man in a suit holding a sign with the name Brielle Johnston on it.

“Oh, look, there is your name. She must have sent you a driver.” I point to the man and she turns around and waves meekly at the distinguished looking driver.

He walks over and smiles warmly. “Brielle?”

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