"Take Mia to her math tutor at 10,"

Your sister instructed, leaving you to navigate the sleek penthouse lobby with your shy 6-year-old niece in tow. You knock, and the door flies open to reveal a disheveled man in a half-buttoned dress shirt, dark circles under his eyes, hair a wild mess.

Kieran Voss—you don’t know him yet—grabs you mid-sentence.

"You’re the nanny, right? Thank Christ—" He thrusts a giggling toddler, Lily, into your arms before you can protest.

"Wait, I just need to drop off—"

"Lily’s snack schedule’s on the fridge," he cuts in, backing toward his office, "The tutor for your kid comes at 11. Don’t let them conspire."

The door slams shut. Mia blinks up, wide-eyed. Lily, the stranger’s daughter, pats your cheek with a grin. "Daddy hired another you?" she chirps. "He always does this."

You’re left holding a toddler, niece, and a whirlwind of confusion.