My Hot Billionaire Neighbor

I crouch down and rapidly sweep the feather duster over the living room table's various knickknacks. I'm sure everything is already clean, but I have a routine and prefer to keep the property in tip-top shape.

As I look across the room, a smile creeps across my face.

I'm still amazed that I live in such a pricey property in Alabang's most renowned neighborhood. Never in my wildest thoughts could I imagine myself walking through such a place, let alone living here. Fortunately, Rachel, an old college friend, introduced me to Romina Martinez and suggested that I apply for the nanny post she had open.

I didn't want to be a nanny, but I didn't have any other options at the time. The job market was tight when I graduated from college with an English degree in hand. If only I'd knew that before I took out all those student loans. But when I met Andrew, Romina's kid, I was completely enamored with him. There's no place I'd rather be after three months of full-time caregiving for him. In fact, I spend more time with him than his parents. It's gotten to the point where people frequently inquire if he's my son. I'm fortunate that we have such a tight relationship.

As if living in such a posh location and caring for an adorable little boy weren't enough, I'm now able to devote my full attention to my true passion... cooking. My passion for cuisine is strong, and I aspire to have my own restaurant one day.

In the meantime, Romina is my personal taste tester here at the office. Every night, it seems, I'm trying out new recipes, such as the roasted duck I cooked the other night or the braised lamb with red potatoes I did two nights ago.

Another perk of my job is having an endless supply of fresh foods to work with. When it comes to food shopping, as with everything else around here, no money is spared. Romina enjoys organic, home-cooked meals, which is exactly what I'm looking for. Andrew has never eaten fast food, and I make it a point to keep him away from it.

Romina steps in with her purse on her shoulder, just as I decide the living room is ready. I find myself admiring her incredible form as she stops to give herself a quick once over in the mirror. Romina's body has never looked better, despite the fact that most women require some time to heal following childbirth. As best as I can tell from the images I've seen around the apartment, her rapid metabolism keeps her rail thin, just like she was in her modeling days. I'm not sure what's troubling her as she starts smoothing non-existent wrinkles out of her tight dress.

Her little hands tug at the lovely silk scarf draped around her neck before tossing it onto the freshly dusted sofa. I wish we were the same size because I adore her fashion sense. She has way more clothes than she knows what to do with thanks to her big wardrobe allowance. In fact, she never wears the same outfit twice. Despite my fashion envy, I adore my diminutive frame's contours and wouldn't change a thing.