His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 8 Sleeping Potion

Moana

After the entire debacle on my first night of employment, my first week went by smoothly and without a single hitch. Ella was a sweet little girl to take care of, and she caused very little trouble, if any at all. In fact, by the end of my first week, I started to feel a little guilty for accepting such a high salary for such an easy job and started helping Selina and the maids around the penthouse when I wasn’t busy with Ella. Helping out with cleaning, cooking, laundry, and grocery shopping not only made me feel better about accepting the salary, but also made me feel less bored when I had nothing else to do. It didn’t make Selina and the maids any more friendly toward me, but it certainly seemed to soften their demeanors a tiny bit as the days marched on.

I also kept a distant, but polite, relationship with Edrick. He wasn’t around very often, usually only coming home late at night, so it was easy to keep a distance.

I started to notice a strange occurrence, though. There was a drawer in the kitchen that Selina would periodically open using a small key; I didn’t pay it much mind, just assuming that it was something private, but I was helping out with peeling potatoes in the kitchen one afternoon while Ella was busy with her violin lesson when I noticed Selina come in with a paper pharmacy bag. I watched quietly as she discreetly opened the bag, unlocked the drawer, and dumped the contents of the bag into the drawer.

“Selina! Can you help me?” Amy suddenly called from the other room. She sounded like she was struggling to carry something heavy.

“Coming,” Selina replied. She left the empty paper bag on the counter and scurried away, inadvertently leaving the drawer open.

I tried to focus on peeling the potatoes, but I was nothing if not a curious person — probably a trait I picked up during my upbringing at the orphanage — and couldn’t help myself from quietly sneaking over to the mysterious drawer.

My brows knit together when I opened it to reveal bottles upon bottles of pills.

“Ambien…” I whispered to myself as I picked up one of the bottles and read the label. Why were there so many sleeping pills in this drawer?

“Ahem.”

accidentally dropping the bottle of pills in my hand and watching in horror as it rolled across the floor, eventually

so sorry,” I

bottle. She brushed past me and

mean to snoop,” I said in a rushed voice. “I just saw you

her apron pocket. “I

her hand and pulled out a steaming loaf of bread,

ask who it’s for?” I asked. “The

let the fresh loaf

shuffled into the kitchen with a basket of clean linens. “Those pills are too strong. And, they’re addictive. I blame

whipping around to glare

muttered before continuing

I wasn’t going to find out who ‘that woman’ was, and returned to peeling the potatoes as I thought about Edrick. Every time I had talked to him since I met him, he never seemed overly tired — and, now that I thought of it, he had woken up at almost the exact same time as I did when

…

to witness Edrick’s sleep deprivation firsthand that

but three bedtime stories before she finally fell asleep halfway through the third story, so I was up much later than usual. Normally I would be tucked away in my bedroom by the time with my headphones on, listening to quiet music while I drew in my sketchbook on my

was walking back to my room, however, I heard the sound of glass breaking in

himself; when I emerged into the living room, I saw him standing in the middle of the room frowning down at the floor. He had his laptop balancing in one hand and was staring down at the floor in front of him, where a wine glass had shattered on the wood and red wine pooled up around

his head up to look at me. His face looked sickly and pale. There was something else behind

He was drunk.

you need help?” I

his head. “It’s alright. The maid will clean it up in

from the kitchen. “Nonsense,” I said, ushering him out of the way when I returned. I bent down in front of him to wipe the wine up off of

moment before turning on his heel

by the shoulder, taking him by surprise, and guided him over to the sofa. “Sit here,” I said sternly,

to get him another glass — but as I got out the wine glass and lifted the half-empty bottle to pour, I decided against it

“This isn’t wine.”