The Night Nanny by Nelle Lamarr EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Nelle Lamarr
- Language: English
- Genre: Thriller / Suspense
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 5.4 MB
- Price: Free
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Now
They say pregnant women glow. You can’t say that about me.
I’m discombobulated.
Disheartened.
Disheveled.
I’m on crutches. My obstetrician prescribed them for me a month ago to
help with my mobility, but I still haven’t gotten the hang of them. I
awkwardly maneuver them, step by painful step, as I hobble through
Starbucks, the one located close to UCLA, one of the most prestigious
universities in all of California.
As I stand in line waiting to place an order, tears threaten to fall when
crippling pain hits from two sides—a throb in my lower back followed by a
stab in my groin. I silently groan. There are only two people ahead of me,
but getting to the counter feels like a marathon.
Finally, it’s my turn. The spiky-haired barista, likely a college student,
looks appalled by my sorry state. My contorted face and distorted body, not
to mention my pallor and the bags under my eyes.
“What can I get you?” she asks, trying to sound cheery.
Always the same. A small decaf iced mocha Frappuccino with almond
milk—no whipped cream. As I pay for it with my credit card, another knifelike stab of pain jolts my hips. I almost double over.
The barista’s face grows alarmed while a voice from behind me drifts
into my ears. “Are you okay?”
Truthfully, I want to curl up on the floor and die, but instead swivel my
head to see a stunning young woman about my height, clad in chic yoga
wear, sunglasses, and a baseball cap that holds back her long, platinumblonde ponytail.
“I’m fine,” I manage, the pain subsiding. My coffee comes and I fumble
for the cup, the crutches making it awkward, next to impossible, to walk.
“Here… please, let me help you,” the blonde woman says.
“Th-thanks,” I stammer, grateful that there are still Good Samaritans in
this self-absorbed world.
She grabs the plastic cup off the counter as I adjust the crutches under
my armpits. My stupid backpack keeps sliding off my shoulders and getting
in the way. Frustrated, I mutter an expletive under my breath.
With her free hand, the woman deftly secures the bag on my shoulders.
“Thanks,” I say again, my voice smaller, more contrite.
“You shouldn’t be carrying such a heavy bag,” she gently admonishes.
“It’s really bad for your condition, and it could lead to rotator cuff issues.”
Just what I need… another debilitating physical ailment. Hasn’t this
pregnancy been punishing enough? I’m convinced I’m paying for my sin…
the terrible secret I will take to my grave.
Nodding, I shove my secret to the back of my mind and survey the
coffee shop. My shoulders sag. Virtually every table and seat is taken by
those entitled, I-can-sit-here-all-day-if-I-want college students, who think of
Starbucks as an extension of their shoebox dorm rooms.
“Hey, I’ve got an extra chair at my table,” the woman tells me. “You can
sit with me.”
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