A Very Accidental Love Story Read Online Free PDF Page A

the mood had shifted a bit and now I was starting to get tetchy, unable to figure out why in the name of God it was so bloody difficult to fill a perfectly simple job in the throes of an economic meltdown, but I still held onto a sliver of hope that so far I’d just been unlucky and it was simply a matter of hanging in there till the perfect nanny calmly strolled into my life. To stay.
    And right now at two in the afternoon, after the last and final disastrous interview, there’s no other way to describe it: I’m in a blind bleeding panic. About a dozen voices are bickering for all they’re worth, clamouring for my attention across the boardroom, while I sit at the top of the table, looking and acting like I’m listening intently; but actually, I’m a million miles away.
    Because now I know. It’s finally official. I’m on the brink of a crisis.
    I Have. No. Childcare. As of the end of this week, I have no one to help me; not a single soul. And what in the name of God am I going to do then? Take Lily into work with me and stick her into a playpen in the middle of my office, hoping no one will notice? Yeah, right, some hope. If I were to even think about doing that, I might as well tie a large neon sign around my neck saying, ‘Have finally cracked up, kindly fire me ASAP as Seth Coleman is only chomping at the bit waiting to take over anyway’.
    The more I dwell on the problem, the more my mouth begins to feel dry; and although I’m desperately trying not to let it show, I know that tiny beads of worry sweat are forming on my forehead, as my heart palpitates with anxiety. I hear nervous rattling and realise it’s my ring off the desk in front of me, so I snap open a bottle of water and try to focus on the length of my inhale and exhale, desperately trying to stay in the game. Because if I am in the throes of a full-blown panic attack, no one in this room can ever know about it. Try as I might though, the same sickening thought keeps playing like a loop in my head, over and over again, and there’s just no getting away from it.
    Every available nanny out there is completely unhireable, I’m in the middle of the biggest crisis I’ve had since having Lily, there is no one, absolutely NO ONE out there to help me and what in the name of arse am I supposed to do now?
    Earlier today, Rachel, my long-suffering assistant, managed to trawl through the few childcare agencies that I haven’t been blacklisted from as of yet and scraped together a grand total of four nannies for me to interview. Yes, that’s right,
four.
We’re in the middle of the deepest recession since the Dark Ages, no one is spending a red cent, property values have dropped so much that people’s homes have fallen back to the prices they would have been in Viking times and above all … There are NO JOBS.
    And yet here I am, fully poised to pay top dollar plus bribe money to someone who’ll take care of a child who’s almost three years old, and move into a perfectly comfortable home in Rathgar, with their own bedroom and ensuite to boot. Not exactly a demanding gig; it’s not brain surgery, it’s not like running a global corporation, all I’m looking for is some reasonable, responsible person who’ll make sure a little girl eats up her vegetables, gets to pre school on time, takes her naps when she’s supposed to and doesn’t spend the entire afternoon watching CBeebies on telly … and can I find anyone to fill the vacancy? No, not a solitary soul.
    It beggars belief. Three interviews in total today and each and every one has been an unmitigated disaster. You want to see the standard – and I really wish I were joking, but some of these people would make Mel Gibson look employable. And so now, there’s no getting around it; as of the end of this week when Elka buggers off, I can’t get anyone to take care of Lily for me. I have no one.
No one.
    And believe me, I’ve done everything. I’ve swallowed my pride and called Elka, offering