The plan was to make him feel like she was a kindred soul in all things nerd�and all things compassionate. He was six foot two, broadly built and according to her internet searches, single. As far as Trish could tell, there wasn't anything particularly boyish about him. Longmire was twenty-eight, which didn't exactly make him the 'Boy Billionaire' that the press made him out to be. Everyone was here to see Longmire, the newest billionaire to come out of Silicon Valley's wealth generators. People continued to filter in for another thirty minutes. It was a half size too small, but she had on her black velvet suit jacket, so it looked fine. It was a distressed blue T-shirt with a vintage-looking Wonder Woman logo emblazoned over her breasts. Trish had planned everything down to her shirt�a great find at Goodwill. Timing an ambush of one of the wealthiest men on the planet required precision. She was as ready as she was ever going to be. She wished she could afford a cell phone�then she could at least play with that until the talk started instead of being the only person in the room who wasn't connected. She'd gotten here early enough that no one had seen her smuggle in the check. Trish had been sitting in her spot�end of the third row, to the left of the podium on the stage�for over an hour. No billionaire would risk looking heartless by saying no to a charity in front of a big crowd. A good crowd would leverage some social pressure on her target. Maybe four hundred people had crowded into the lower level and, in addition to the journalists from the college paper, some reporters from the San Francisco television stations were in attendance.

The auditorium was filling up, which was exactly what Trish wanted.

The Nanny Plan by Sarah M. Anderson