Find Me Alastar

Brielle is a beautiful girl with dark brown hair that hangs just below her shoulders and a figure to dieThis belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

for. She has the straightest, whitest teeth known to man after having thousands of dollars’ worth of

Orthodontic work which her father always reminds us about. Any employer will be so lucky to get her.

She’s way too good for that imbecile on the other side of the world.

I smile nervously for her. “You look exactly what a twenty-five-year-old school teacher nanny from

Australia should look like.”

She bites her bottom lip to hide her smile.

“So, what’s the boss’s name?” I frown.

She rustles through her bag and pulls out her phone to read the email from the nanny agency.

“Mrs. Julian Masters.”

I nod. “And what’s her story again? I know you told me before but I’ve forgotten.”

Brielle’s eyes light up with excitement. “She is a Supreme Court Judge, was widowed five years

ago.”

I frown. “What happened to the husband?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know that yet. Apparently she’s quite wealthy.” She shrugs. “Two kids,

well behaved.”

“Sounds good.”

“I hope so.” She frowns. “I just hope they like me.”

“They will.”

The line shuffles up in front and I feel my nerves rise again. “So, we are definitely going out at the

weekend yes?”

She nods. “Yes.” Her eyes flick to me. “What are you going to do until then?”

I shrug. “Look around, I guess. I start work on Monday and it’s Thursday today. Are you sure you can

go out on the weekends?” “Yes!” she snaps exasperated. “I told you a thousand times, we are going out on

Saturday night.”

I nod nervously. “Yeah, right. Okay.”

“Did you get that thingy for your phone sorted?” she asks.

I frown. “Not yet, I will find a phone shop tomorrow so you can call me.”

“And Mark is picking you up?” she asks.

“Yes,” I mutter as I look around nervously. My heart rate has picked up dramatically at the mere

thought.

She smirks cheekily and I shake my head in a dismissive gesture. The truth of the matter is that I have

no idea what the attraction to Mark is. I may not even like him in the flesh, although I think it would be

highly unlikely if I didn’t. We seem to get along very well, and it was at his insistence that I applied for

this job.

“I need to go to the bathroom. How long is the drive from the airport to where we are staying?”

Brielle shrugs. “No idea.”

My eyes scan the customs area for a bathroom. “It must be on the other side of the gates.”

We are called to the front of the line to the customs desk, then half an hour later we exit, walking into

the arrivals of London International airport. It’s a noisy, crowded, bustling space, and a row of men stand

to the left along the wall holding small signs with names of the people that they are picking up. We both

look around nervously.

“Do you see our name?” I ask.

“No.”

“Shit, no one is here to pick us up!” I snap. “Typical.”

“Relax, they will be here,” Brelly murmurs.

We keep walking toward the baggage terminal but I still don’t see anyone with either of our names on

their signs.

“What do we do if nobody turns up?” I frown.

She runs her hands through her hair as her eyes scan the space. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m

going to lose my shit.”

I look over her shoulder and see a tall, broad man in a suit holding a sign with the name Brielle

Johnston on it.

“Oh, look, there is your name. She must have sent you a driver.” I point to the man and she turns

around and waves meekly at the distinguished looking driver.