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.”

hand and

sorry,”

and stooped to pick up the bottle. She brushed past me and tossed it back into the drawer, closing and locking it

rushed voice. “I just saw you left the drawer

key into her apron pocket. “I suppose

to the oven. She slipped a quilted oven mitt onto her hand and pulled out a

I ask who it’s for?” I asked. “The pills, I

loaf of bread inside plop down onto the cutting board. “His doses lately have been getting stronger. I’m not sure if the pills even help him at all

kitchen with a basket of clean linens. “Those pills are too strong.

whipping around to

muttered before continuing

had talked to him since I met him, he never seemed overly tired — and, now that I thought of it, he had

…

chance to witness Edrick’s

Ella to bed. She insisted that I read her not one, not two, 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 balcony, which meant that I rarely bumped into Edrick

heard the sound of glass breaking in the living room, followed by a muffled

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

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

He was drunk.

you need help?”

his head. “It’s alright. The maid

and the broom 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 the floor, then swept the broken glass into the dustpan and dumped

on his heel toward the kitchen. “I

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

wine glass and lifted the half-empty bottle to pour, I decided against it and instead filled a

“This isn’t wine.”