Chapter 1My daughter looked at the nanny's son one time — and the nanny demanded she marry him.
"My baby ate like a little piggy today — isn't that just the Cutest?"
"You'll never know the joy of raising a son. Must be lonely. Lucky for you — I'm generous."
"Sure, your daughter's tall, got a PhD, little past her prime — but I'm not picky. I'll allow the marriage."
Then my $15,000 necklace disappeared.
"Took it. Bought him a car. We're family now — you're welcome."
She winked.
I snapped.
"You and your pig-son. GO TO HELL."
Dialed 911.
---
My husband Ryan grabbed my wrist before I could hit "call."
"Babe, babe—calm down. We can handle this. If this gets out, Ella's gonna take the hit too."
I yanked my hand back.
"Her trash son? For my daughter? She stole from us—she's the problem!"
Linda's voice shot across the room.
"Your daughter? PhD and all that—boring as hell. Can't even pop out kids. Built like a damn tree. Nobody wants her."
"I'm doing you a favor here! My son's a catch."
"My friend's boy? Bank manager. Mine just needs time. When he blows up? You'll regret this."
I laughed.
"He's forty. Still needs time? What's he waiting for—his grave? Gonna haunt me with 'I told you so'? That I'd believe."
Linda's worked for us forever. Always talking up her "precious Sunny."
One day she asked if he could crash here.
"He's so good. Won't cause trouble. Just games all day."
Sounded like a kid. I even bought snacks.
Then she walked in with a five-six, three-hundred-pound forty-year-old.
Dropped out at fourteen. Lives on his console. Can't cook. Eats dry ramen from the bag. Dad's a gambler. They skip town every few months dodging debt.
My daughter? Five-ten. Gorgeous. Ivy League PhD. Killing it at work. I'm handing her my company in a few years.
And Linda thinks her son deserves her?
Linda pointed at me.
"You're just mad you never had a son! My boy's perfect. Helpful. Sweet. Texts me when I'm sick. You wish!"
I was done.
"Pack your bags. Get out."
Ryan tugged my arm.
"Honey... good help's tough to find. You're busy. Can we just wait till we—"
Linda smirked.
I snapped.
"I'll interview a thousand people if I have to. She's gone. Today."
I stepped up.
"That necklace? Give it back. Now. Or I'm calling the cops."
Chapter 2
Good help really is hard to find.
Linda was fast. Clean. Amazing cook.
But god, she never shut up.
Old-school as hell. Always in my ear.
"You work too much. Gotta take care of home. That's what I did wrong—worked my ass off, didn't watch my man. Now he's a gambler. Debt collectors everywhere. Can't even show my face back home."
At first I felt bad. Figured she'd been through the wringer.
Even told her, "Not your fault. It's his."
Big mistake.
She got bolder.
"You don't cook. Don't clean. Don't take care of your man. Watch out—he's gonna wander."
After the tenth time?
"You do all that. Your husband still left. So what's your excuse?"
Her face went stone cold.
"I'm trying to help. Why you being such a bitch?"
I lost it.
"Oh, so you know what bitchy sounds like? Then zip it."
Should've fired her right then.
But Ryan goes, "Don't be so picky. She does the job."
Whatever. I was never home anyway.
Let it go.
But this? Messing with Ella?
Hell no.
Kicked her out. She threw the necklace at the counter and stormed off.
"Fine! Got ten families begging for me. Don't need your drama!"
Door slammed.
I was still seething.
Ryan tried calming me. Said don't waste energy on trash like her.
Work got crazy. I moved on.
Memorial Day weekend rolls around.
Ella's coming home.
I cleared everything to be there.
Walked into the kitchen.
Froze.
Linda. In my damn house. Again.
"What the hell—"
She didn't even look up. Just kept chopping.
"Told my boy what happened. He said we're basically family. Forgave you."
"Said I should be the bigger person. So here I am. I'll keep working. But don't you dare insult my son again."
I just stared.
This woman stole from me.
And now she's forgiving me?
Are you kidding?
"Out. Now. I don't keep thieves."
Ryan rushed in.
"Babe—babe, come on. First-time mistake. Give her one more chance."
"Her husband's a deadbeat. She raised that kid alone. You're a woman—show some sympathy."
I whipped around.
"Feel that sorry for her? Go be her husband then."
Chapter 3
Ryan's face went dark.
"I'm just saying, don't be so aggressive. What the hell was that?"
"Me? Aggressive? She pulls all that crap and I'm supposed to just keep her around? I pay her to take care of this house, not to walk all over me like I'm the help."
"You're being arrogant. Think money buys everything? Think it gives you the right to trash people?"
I was about to let him have it.
But Ella walked in.
I swallowed it and forced a smile.
"We'll settle this later."
She's busy. School, work. Barely home anymore.
I wasn't gonna ruin her holiday or let her see us fighting. Didn't need her worrying about us from across the country.
So I plastered on a smile and welcomed her home.
Figured if I kept quiet, Linda would back off.
Dead wrong.
She swapped Ella's iced drink for hot tea.
"Too much cold stuff messes with your fertility. Can't have babies, nobody'll want you. My son's wife? She's popping out at least three."
Ella's smile froze.
I bit down hard.
"There's chicken soup in the kitchen. Go get it."
Ella turned back to me, grinning, showing off her nails.
"Got them done special for the holiday. You like?"
"Love them!"
Linda came out with the soup, looked at Ella's nails and snorted.
"Can't do housework with those. Waste of money. And all that makeup? You don't need it. Girls who wear that much are usually a hot mess."
I was about to explode.
Ella squeezed my hand.
"Mom. Not worth it. Look, I brought you something. Picked these up on my trips."
She pulled out little handmade souvenirs, price tags still on. Adorable. Thoughtful.
I loved them.
Then Linda shrieked.
"A hundred bucks for this junk? I wouldn't take it if you paid me!"
"Ella, honey, you gotta watch your spending. That's your future husband's money you're blowing. Who's gonna put up with a spender like you?"
That was it.
"My daughter spends what she wants. I'll cover it. Stay out of it."
"Get. Out. Now."
Linda's face twisted, but then the doorbell rang and she perked right up.
"Oh! Our guest's here. I'll let this slide for now."
Guest?
Ella and I looked at Ryan. He shrugged. No clue.
Linda skipped to the door and came back with her three hundred pound son, Sunny.
She waved at Ella like she was presenting a prize.
"Ella, sweetie, come meet your future husband."
