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  SUDDENLY HIRED

  SUDDENLY LOVE, BOOK 2

  CARMEN FALCONE

  Copyright © 2022 by Carmen Falcone

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  CONTENTS

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Also by Carmen Falcone

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  BLURB

  When Poppy storms into Ethan’s office, she has a clear goal in mind: she’ll convince him to sponsor her podcast in exchange for advertising his upcoming entertainment complex. But, she didn’t count on the super-hot yet calculating man to be so stubborn, or his surprising and unexpected offer. If she babysits his unruly kids for two months, he’ll give her what she wants. After raising her two brothers, she doesn’t want any commitment—but this isn’t an offer she can refuse if she wants a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make a name for herself.

  Single dad Ethan needs a reliable nanny, if he wants to earn a bonus that’ll be his ticket to opening his own consulting firm and finally be able to spend time with his emotionally neglected family. But no one in New York City sticks with taking care of his kids. When an impulsive red-haired woman schemes her way into his office, he’s surprised at how resourceful she is. Not to mention gorgeous. She’s desperate for a chance, and he’s willing to give it to her—if she helps him out.

  The fiery attraction pulsing between them boils over and they have to choose—when the two months are up, will she finally fulfill long awaited dreams in the big city or embark on an instant family lifelong adventure?

  1

  “What happened this time?” Ethan asked, his voice filled with impatience. He glanced down at his eight-year-old son Archie, and ten-year-old daughter Willow. Couldn’t a single dad get a fucking break?

  They stood in the middle of his office of one the world’s biggest luxury entertainment corporations, when they should have been at the exclusive private school they belonged to, in Manhattan. In less than thirty minutes, the founder of Kyle Entertainment, Mr. Branson Kyle, would arrive for their meeting in the conference room. Being the head of this project was a great opportunity. He’d opened entertainment venues before, but never in this capacity—and never such a coveted one.

  If he excelled, he’d finally be able to walk away from this all-consuming job and open his own consulting firm. Spend more time with his children. Be his own boss—the way it should be.

  The kids’ brand-new nanny, Sara, should have picked them up from school and gone straight to his duplex. That was what had been arranged.

  Yet, his driver Drake called him to say the nanny had quit during her very first day at the job. She simply asked Drake to stop the car in the middle of downtown traffic and dashed, with a bullshit excuse about a personal emergency. Yeah right.

  Ethan ran his fingers down his face. Out of all the days not to have childcare, today wasn’t it. Kyle had already complained about a couple of delays to opening date. One had been the construction company’s fault, and the other, Ethan’s—he had dropped the ball during a weekend Lydia had been off.

  Lydia, his loyal housekeeper, had gone to visit her daughter upstate. The poor woman had stepped in a lot during the last few months, when a revolving door of nannies and sitters had stumbled in and out of his kids’ lives. She was a godsend, but at sixty-five and with newborn twin grandbabies, she’d started to put limitations to her work schedule. Rightfully so.

  If only she hadn’t done so this week…

  “Sorry, Dad,” Willow said, fixing her glasses. “Archie was hyper in the car. I told him to stop shooting Nerf gun bullets at her. Then he pulled out his slime, and told her to ‘catch it’. We know how impossible it is to get that stuff out of the clothes.”

  Slime? Ethan winced. “Archie, we already talked about Nerf guns. They shouldn’t have been in the car.” And definitely not pointed at the new nanny.

  “They weren’t,” his son said, with a glint of mischief in his blue eyes. “They were in my backpack.”

  “You took it to school?” he asked, frustration squeezing moisture from his throat. The principal would no doubt call him if she had found out. Archie’s severe ADHD diagnosis only had so much reach. The principal had been understanding, especially because his former wife and mother of the kids was an unreliable junkie who last bounced out of the kids’ lives two years ago. But he knew even her patience had its limits. Other students’ parents complained about Archie constantly disrupting the class, and lowering overall productivity. “Why did you do that, son? You know you aren’t supposed to.”

  Archie shrugged, and with his foot traced an invisible circle on the floor. “I was bored.”

  Ethan drew a long breath, raking his fingers through his hair. A part of him wanted to be mad at his son, well a part of him was—but then he remembered Archie acted on impulse and even though he often found trouble, he didn’t have a mean bone in his body—though his sister, of course, would disagree.

  Archie had regular sessions with both occupational and play therapists, and bless those professionals—they tried their best to teach him how to control his body and be aware of his space. But sometimes it felt like improvements didn’t come soon enough.

  He knelt until he was on eye level with Archie. “You can’t ever point a fake toy gun at anyone, and much less shoot in their direction. Do you understand?” he said, using a voice that set most people straight. “Next time you act out, you’re losing your iPad for a month at least.”

  Archie looked down. “Sorry, Dad.”

  “You’re really going to forgive him and let him go off the hook like that?” Willow asked, behind them. “He was bouncing off the walls in the car. He got detention twice this week. Dad, there’s a pattern.”

  Willow’s questioning of his parenting skills always made him second guess himself. If there was a position open for a kid warden at a strict boarding school, Willow would take it and excel in her sleep. “Listen, I have a meeting soon and—”

  “Of course,” Willow cut him off. “Always a meeting. Never us.”

  It was like someone switched off a light inside him, then turned it on at its brightest, the abrupt shift shocking his body. Though it shouldn’t. By now, he should be used to the hurt in his daughter’s eyes, the resentment in her voice. She’d lost her mother, and no nanny in this world could make up for it.

  “Willow, I—”

  The sound of the doors being swung opened startled him.

  “Mr. Sterling. Please, hear me out,” said an anxious female voice.

  He raised his gaze from his daughter’s disappointed face to find a tall, statuesque red-haired woman storming into his office. Her hair fell in waves across her face all the way down her shoulders, and she panted, like she’d just ran a marathon. Sweat coated her forehead, and a flick of desperation gleamed in her bright green eyes. What the hell? He didn’t have anything in his schedule besides the important meeting with Kyle. And this woman looked nothing like Kyle’s assistant. “Who are you?”

  “Poppy Jones,” she said, glancing behind her shoulder, then closing the door of his office and at last, looking at him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been meaning to talk
to you for a while.”

  He picked his brain, trying to place her name. He usually remembered the ones important to him. To his career as a regional director in Kyle Entertainment. But hers didn’t ring any bells. “I’m sorry. Where do we know each other from? I don’t see anything on my calendar,” he said smoothly, hiding his impatience. She could be working for Kyle and he just didn’t know. Why would she just barge into his office? She had to have a fucking good reason.

  She worried her lower lip. A deliciously plump lip. “Oh. We haven’t met yet. I’ve tried. You’re hard to get.”

  “You can say that again,” Willow said under her breath, rolling her eyes.

  “I like your hair,” Archie said, stepping toward Poppy.

  “Thank you,” Poppy said, touching the bouncing waves, and flashing him a smile. “I’m sorry for barging in, but I’ve been trying to get hold of you for months, and I’m not backing away now. Mr. Sterling, I have the perfect marketing opportunity for you. I’m an up-and-coming podcaster, and—”

  He waved her off, impatience getting under his skin. Was she seriously cold calling him on the most important day of his career? “Contact Marketing.”

  “I’ve tried, for a couple months.”

  Not my problem, he wanted to say. He glanced at his son, who still seemed entranced by the stranger. “How did you get in here?”

  “I, hmm, accidentally spilled coffee on your assistant and she rushed to the restroom to clean up. So I thought, hey why not be time conscious and take advantage of this opportunity? I promise I’ll be quick. And even if I take a long time, it’ll sound like a breeze to you.”

  More like a thunderstorm. He shook his head. Who the hell was this person? “Accidentally?”

  She tossed her hair to the side. “It was iced coffee, in my defense. I apologized profusely,” she said, gesturing with her hands. “Anyway, please listen—”

  “Get out,” he said, pointing at the door. Out of all the things he didn’t need today, dealing with this woman was definitely one of them. How did she get past security in the lobby? He narrowed his eyes at her. She probably had a way to get things done.

  “Jeez, Dad, kicking her out isn’t very nice,” his daughter said, choosing a bad time to be polite. A part of him knew Willow only intervened because she’d sensed he didn’t want to waste his time with Poppy.

  “Neither is soliciting without permission.”

  “You always tell us we should listen more,” Archie said. “And be polite.”

  “See? Listen to these adorable kids. They’re the future, right?” Poppy chimed in, smiling like he’d given her the go-ahead. “Once I tell you my idea, I guarantee you’ll change your mind.”

  Jesus. “Listen, door-to-door person, I give you—”

  “Ethan,” said the voice belonging to the one person he wanted more time before he had to meet. Branson Kyle. The man walked into his office, his icy gaze taking in his children and the red-haired woman. “Am I interrupting you?”

  Fuck. Ethan fell into the smooth talker role again, feeling his features soften, willing the frustration away from his expression. “Not at all, Mr. Kyle. I was expecting to meet you soon, and—”

  “I prefer to surprise and show up earlier sometimes. To see what you’ve all been up to,” he said. “I see your children are still a lively presence in the office,” he said, with a tone of sarcasm. “I thought the last screw-up had taught you a lesson.”

  Fuck. He had to take the kids out of sight as soon as possible, otherwise the cranky old fool would assume that Ethan’s life was still drowned in personal chaos. He needed the bonus money at the end of this project—the only way to finally recover control over his life again, and bury the past once and for all. Of course he’d miss the company perks, including the company driver, five-star vacations and help with the children’s snooty school tuition. They’d invested in him. But he could no longer lack control of his own life. His children needed him, and with his own firm, he’d set his own hours. He’d spend more time with his kids, and once this opening was over, he’d need no more nannies. “Not at all. They came in to say hello,” Ethan blurted. “The nanny showed up, but they’re on their way out.”

  Willow and Archie exchanged a look, but didn’t say anything.

  The annoying, pushy woman didn’t either, and thankfully she’d been quiet at the right time. He didn’t need Branson to know that his life was still messy, that the reason why he’d dropped a few balls in the past months still existed.

  If he didn’t turn things around, he’d be toast.

  He wouldn’t be able to open his own firm, and he’d still live in the crazy loop of disappointment his life had become. He’d get to spend even less time with his kids, much less enjoy them. Then again, when was the last time he enjoyed anything? He’d been an endless pit of resentment and guilt.

  “Dad, I’m hungry,” Archie said.

  “I’ll take the kids to the cafeteria downstairs,” Poppy said. “C’mon kiddos.”

  He walked up closer to her, and whispered in her ear, “Don’t let them out of your sight. My assistant Laurel will take them from you when she’s back.”

  “Deal.”

  He hoped he knew what he was doing… because he’d just trusted a complete stranger.

  “Who are you?” the boy asked, the moment they sat at a round table in the overpriced café. Well, she imagined it was overpriced—maybe it wasn’t, and all those expensive things made sense if you had the money.

  But Poppy needed to pitch her idea and make a deal with the kids’ father. With her cousin Kira no longer living with them, she and Billie needed to pay their bills. Hell, Kira had done enough for her. Now, it was high time for Poppy to get her podcast off the ground, with a cross promotion with the exciting new entertainment multiplex. But how did a little nobody from a small town in Texas make a big splash in the Big Apple? Or even a little splash? At this point, she’d settle for ripples.

  Poppy squared her shoulders. Toughen up. What she lacked in money and connections, she compensated with strong will and an attitude that hopefully wouldn’t land her in jail today. She hadn’t broken any law, right? Sure, she’d lied to the security guard, flirted with the front desk clerk, then spilled coffee on the assistant—how else would she get her out of her way so she could finally have access to the man who wouldn’t give her the time of day otherwise? “I’m Poppy.”

  “Poppin? Like Mary Poppins?” Archie asked.

  “More like porcupine,” said the girl with a ponytail and smart eyes. She took a drink of her chocolate milk eyeing Poppy carefully, like she could read her.

  “It’s just Poppy,” she said, unfazed. “I’m a podcaster, and a future business partner of your father’s.”

  The girl rolled her eyes. “What’s next? Will Dad ask the janitor to watch us?”

  Poppy’s heart sank. She could feel the undertone of hurt in the girl’s sarcasm. Growing up, she watched her two young brothers a lot because her mother was either working a double shift or drinking a bit too much. She’d learned how to make the best of things and taught her siblings to not to expect too much. “I’m sure your father is doing the best he can,” she said, using the same line she used about their mother to Chase and Chance.

  The girl shrugged. “You obviously haven’t met Dad.”

  “What are your names?” she asked, hoping to dispel some of the tension lurking around them like secondhand smoke.

  “I’m Archie,” the boy said, with an easy smile. “And that’s Willow.”

  “I love the names. Ages?”

  Archie picked the glass napkin holder from the center of the table and played with it, passing it from hand to hand. “Eight, and Willow’s ten.”

  Poppy glanced at Willow, who shot her a we-don’t-have-to-do this look.

  “I’m twenty-six,” Poppy said. Though she felt like one hundred. She’d been chasing Ethan Sterling for a couple of months, but the man was impossible to get hold of. His marketing team already bl
ocked her from her attempts, so she hoped she had better luck stalking him.

  After all, she read articles about him, and knew he was a visionary when it came to the entertainment industry. In his latest feat, he’d secured the investors to bank roll an impressive complex in the middle of Manhattan.

  Movie theaters, restaurants, bars and even a concert venue. She may be living in New York for months and not years, but even she knew that space like that was at a premium. If he heard her out, maybe he’d give her a chance.

  For the last few weeks, she’d been trying to get her podcast, What’s Poppying, off the ground. The idea of a small-town Texan girl’s point of view in the big city linked to the hottest new entertainment mecca should draw more people.

  She’d get there. She had to.

  This was for her. She’d raised her twin brothers—younger by one year—and done her due diligence. Now, it was her time to make things happen and chase her dreams. Live a good life, filled with freedom and possibilities.

  “My mom was always busy when we were growing up. I watched my brothers a lot.”

  “Well, my mom was always coming and going, but the last time I saw her was two years ago,” Willow said, and this time, the pain in her voice was unmasked.

  Poppy’s heart froze in her chest, stilling all of her body. She knew Ethan was divorced, and may have clicked on a gossip site about his ex-wife having cocaine addiction problems, but she had no idea his ex was so far removed from the kids’ lives. An ache settled in her chest, with a warm wave of sadness. “I’m sorry,” she said in a low voice, looking at Willow. “That’s not fair.”