New York City, New York
September 7, 2018
All classes were cancelled today for some strange, unknown reason. Connor took a day off from work today as well. What are the odds? After waking up at 7:00 A.M, I have spent the past few hours worrying about why Olivia was mad at me yesterday. Will she still be mad at me when I go into her room to wake her? I sigh before changing into jeans and a yellow shirt with white stripes.
I slowly walk into Olivia's room.
"Wake up Olivia," I whisper.
"Hi Harper," she smiles at me. She's not mad?
"Hi Olivia," I smile back at her while she slips out of her bed.
"I want to wear jeans today too," she says while pointing at my jeans.
"Okay, that fine, how about this white shirt?" I ask while pulling out a white top with pale pink flowers on the bottom. It's an adorable shirt, I would wear it if it were my size.
"That looks like something a sixty year old would wear," she scoffs.
"Yes, you're totally right," I awkwardly laugh. Ouch.
"This one!" She shouts while pulling out a tank top with yellow butterflies on it.
"Perfect. Wow you've never worn this before, the tag is still on it," I laugh while looking at the tag.
"Armani $376" the tag reads.
"Is this spun from gold, what the heck," she laughs at my comment.
Her $376 shirt from Armani is a big step up from my $10.99 shirt from TJ MAXX.
"We're going out to eat, hurry up!" Connor shouts from downstairs.
I put Olivia's shirt on her before rushing her down the stairs.
"A five minute warning would have been nice," I say in snarky voice.
"A respectful nanny would be nice too, but I guess we can't all have our own way," he responds.
"You want to know something," I was going to say something rude, but he places his hand over my mouth.
"No sweetheart, I don't," I can see the amusement in his eyes.
"You all like each other," Olivia chimes in.
"No, no we do not," I correct her.
"Mhmmmm," she responds, I glare at her.
We get in Connor's car before heading into the city.
Once the car is stopped, I quickly retrieve Olivia from the back seat. A fancy restaurant with many people waiting in line stands before us.
"Connor, we'll never make it in!" I complain.
"Follow me," he says while picking up Olivia and heading towards the entrance.
A man in a suit stands behind a desk.
"Mr. Humphrey! Right this way sir," he comes out from behind the desk to lead us to a table.
Various people in the waiting line give us dirty looks.
"Why do we get to skip the line?" I ask.
"Because I'm Connor Humphrey," he responds cockily.
I sit at the table and look at the menu with all Italian dishes. When our waiter arrives he takes our drink and food orders at the same time.
"Hi, can I get spaghetti with the tomato sauce substitute?" I ask. I'm highly allergic to tomatoes, anytime I order spaghetti I have to a get a substitute sauce.
Olivia and Connor order after me. Once our waiter leaves Connor begins doing something on his phone while I chatter with Olivia.
"Why can't you have spaghetti sauce?" She asks.
"I'm allergic to tomatoes," I explain and she nods.
After a short wait, our waiter returns with our food, placing my plate in front of me first.
As improper as it is, I immediately begin to devour my plate.
But after a few bites, my throat starts to itch. I begin wheezing and coughing. It doesn't take long before I am having trouble breathing.
They didn't use a tomato sauce substitute!
Connor immediately dials 911. Olivia begins to cry while rushing to my side.
When the ambulance arrives the paramedics put me in the back. They do everything they can to treat me while on the way to the hospital.
Connor and Olivia followed the ambulance to the hospital. As they rush me to a hospital room, Connor and Olivia quickly follow.
"Sir only family is allowed beyond this point," I hear a security guard tell Connor in the distance.
"She's my wife," He tells the security guard while continuing to follow me on the stretcher.
I am placed in a room while a nurse with multiple needles in her hand begins to mark places on my arm. I am deathly afraid of needles, I always have been.
The nurse tells Connor to hold me still, but even then I still try to squirm under his tight grip.
"Shhh it's okay," he assures me.
"Just squeeze my hand, okay?" He tells me. My Mom used to say that when I would get shots for school. I would leave marks on her hand that lasted for weeks.
I grab his hand and squeeze it with all my might as she stabs me with the needles. As soon as the pin is over I release his hand.
After a few short hours of being in the hospital, I am released.
"I think you broke my hand," he jokes.
"Sorry," I respond, still shaken up over the whole situation.
I was just thankful that whenever I was filling out paperwork he didn't see me write that I was enrolled at NYU...
YOU ARE READING
When Rich Meets Poor
Romance"Or you can pay me $15,000," he gives me a second option. "Hi, my names Harper and I'm your new nanny," I extend my hand for him to shake, which he doesn't. I quickly pull my hand away. Harper Aspen was majoring in journalism/creative writing...
