I sag against the counter, smoothing a hand over my racing heart. I’m grateful I don’t have to seduce some overweight, ugly-ass, middle-aged man, but being so attracted to Cristian presents different problems. I can’t afford to like him, want him, or care for him because that’ll complicate an already complicated situation.
“If you took this job to seduce your boss, you might as well quit now,” Isa says in her aggravating nasally tone.
I wonder how long she was listening and watching. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I calmly reply, holding my head high. “I took this job because Elio is an adorable kid, and the deal was sweet. Like you said, I need more experience, and this is a dream job.”
Folding her arms across her chest, she scoffs. “I’m not buying it.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Isa. I have no ulterior motives.” I look her straight in the eye as I lie to her face.
“It’s Isotta to you,” she snaps, putting herself all up in my face. “Only my family and friends call me Isa, and you’re neither.”
I grind my teeth to the molars before plastering a fake smile on my face. “I meant no offense, Isotta, ma’am. Apologies.”
Bitch.
Her mouth pulls into a hard line as her gaze sidles to the packages on the counter. “What is this?” She leans down, examining the items with a building scowl.
“Cristian organized a cell phone and tablet for me.”
She rakes her furious gaze over me. “So, this is your game, huh? Act like the diplomat didn’t pay you handsomely. Play the poor, needy nanny part to perfection and get Mr. DiPietro to buy you things. You’re nothing but a?—”
“Where is Elio?” I ask, frowning as I look behind her and don’t see my little prince.
“He’s in the playroom drawing.” She waggles her finger in my face. “If you memorized his schedule, you’d know it’s art time this morning, and don’t try to distract me from?—”
“I memorized it.” I cut across her again. “I’m just surprised he’s been left alone in there. He should be supervised at all times.” I examined the storage and supply cupboards last night, and there are scissors, glitter, glue guns, Play-Doh, and other small craft items a little kid could choke on or hurt themselves with.
I move on autopilot, striding around her with purpose.
“He’s sitting in a chair drawing,” she hisses, following hot on my heels. “He can’t come to any harm.”
I stalk down the hallway, past Cristian’s sealed office door, the home gym, and the old-school library, to the large playroom with the wide window overlooking CP in the near distance. Elio is muttering to himself as he sits at a double-sided desk in the middle of the space, drawing a picture with a multitude of colored pencils spread out around him.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I spot the locked cupboard doors. It’s possible I overreacted, but taking care of Elio is my responsibility now. I don’t like Isa, and I don’t know her. Would she resort to putting the child in danger to get me fired? Because I’m beginning to think that’s her goal.
7
CRISTIAN
Arap on my door claims my attention, and I tear my eyes from the email I’m in the middle of writing to look over my shoulder.
“Cris.” Isa pokes her head into the room. “I brought you some lunch.” Without waiting for an invitation, she strides into my home office carrying a plate and a mug. I lock my screen and swivel in my chair. “I’ll eat with all of you.”
“We’ve already eaten.” She sets the plate and mug down on my desk. “I told Sloane to tell you. Didn’t she say anything?”
“No one said anything, but it’s fine.” I gesture toward my screen as she props her butt against the side of my desk and stretches her legs out in front of her. “I have a lot on my plate today anyway, and I want to finish early so I can take Elio to the courts.” I lift the sandwich from the plate.
“Don’t expect much,” she says, scrunching her nose and glaring at the sandwich as if it’s personally offended her. “How anyone can mess up a sandwich is beyond me, and I wouldn’t hold out much hope for the coffee either. She’s clueless.”
I silently count to ten. “I hired Sloane to be a nanny, not a chef or a barista.” I examine the sandwich in my hand. “Looks good to me.” I take a huge bite out of the pastrami salad sandwich, finding no fault with it.
“I’ve probably spoiled you with my superior cooking skills. I guess you’ll have to lower your standards now.”
Fucking hell. “It’s not a competition, Isa.” It takes effort to soften my tone and keep my words kind when I’m tempted to throttle her. “Elio loves you. He’ll still love you even when you are no longer his nanny. You don’t need to worry about being ousted from his life.”
“I’m not.” She moves in closer and leans down. “I’m worried aboutyou. That girl has ulterior motives, Cris, and you’re already playing right into her hands.”
I really hate when she calls me that. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it,” I demand in a clipped tone, struggling to hold onto my legendary patience.
