“She’s not even on the job twenty-four hours, and you’re buying her things!”
“Careful, Isa. You’re beginning to sound like a jealous girlfriend.”
“She’s taking advantage of you, and you can’t even see it!”
I stand, beyond incensed. “I provided her with the tools she needed to perform her job. You are reading far too much into this, and you are way out of line. I know you don’t like her. You’ve made that blatantly clear, but you don’t get a say in how I run my life or the decisions I make formy son.”
“What twenty-one-year-old doesn’t own a cell, a tablet, or a laptop? You can’t tell me she doesn’t have the money. She was well paid by the diplomat, and she’s single with no financial commitments. Like I said, she’s playing you, and you need to open your goddamned eyes, Cristian!” She’s getting all worked up for fucking nothing, and I’m at my wit’s end with her. I don’t know why she is acting like this.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but the financial check I ran confirms the girl is broke.” Isa wasn’t privy to the financial reports of any of the candidates, as it had no bearing on their suitability for the role. I like to be thorough, and I had the full gamut of checks performed, only sharing the pertinent information with my former nanny.
“And that’s not suspicious.” She snorts, and it’s very unattractive. I’m seeing a side to Isa I really don’t like.
“Connect the dots, Isotta! Her mother died of cancer seven months ago. She was her only family. The bank foreclosed on her family home, and she was left with a mountain of other debt. It’s obvious where her money was and is going.” Sloane has requested her salary be paid into two bank accounts. A small amount is going into her personal bank account, with the bulk going into an account that debtors are paid from. The girl literally exists on nothing. Of course, she can’t afford a new cell and tablet. “You’re the only one who thinks this is suspicious.”
I think Sloane’s meager personal possessions are further indication of her dire situation. Yesterday, I was afraid it meant she wasn’t planning to stick around, but after thinking about it last night, this is the obvious conclusion. Sloane doesn’t have the funds to buy herself things. I have more money than I know what to do with. So I plan to add a clothing allowance to her contract, and I’ve already notified my housekeeper to buy whatever toiletries and cosmetics Sloane needs. If she questions it, Mrs. Peake knows to lie and say I did the same for Isa.
I’d outright offer to help if I didn’t think Sloane would refuse. I vow to find other ways to support her without making her feel like a charity case. While she’s in my employ, Sloane will not want for anything. A happy nanny means a happy Elio, and I’ll do whatever I can to alleviate stress in Sloane’s life.
“I’m not buying her act, Cris.” Isa pushes off my desk, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’d do well to be on your guard. Don’t let her pretty face and cosmetically enhanced body distract you from her true agenda.”
She’s like a broken record, and I’m sick of hearing it. “I’m not having this same argument with you.” I rub at my throbbing temples, barely resisting the urge to grab Isotta and shake her. “I’ve got work to do.”
“I’m only trying to protect you.” Her hand lands on my arm. “You’re a man. It’s natural you’re led by your dick, but you’re smarter than this.”
I step back, letting her hand fall away. It takes colossal effort not to lash out at the woman. It’s clear she feels threatened, and I’m trying to understand it, but she doesn’t get to speak to me like this. “You need to leave, Isa. Go now before I say something we’ll both regret.”
Hurt splays across her face, taking the edge off my rage but only slightly.
“We’re taking Elio out on his bike in a bit, just in case you come looking for us.”
“Take Clint and Umberto with you.”
“Of course. You don’t need to tellmethat.” She huffs before finally taking the hint and exiting my office, taking her envy and disdain with her. The door slams shut, and I pray for patience that is in limited supply.
Flopping down in my chair, I rest my head back and close my eyes for a few seconds. Then I pick up my sandwich and wolf the rest of it down. My mouth pulls into a grimace when I gulp back a mouthful of coffee. Goddamn. It’s awful. All Isa had to do was show Sloane how to use the machine, but I guess that’s asking for too much.
Taking my empty plate and the almost full mug, I head out of my office toward the kitchen to make myself a fresh cup.
“It’s clear you didn’t grow up in a good Italian American family.” Isa’s cutting tone reaches me in the hallway, and I slow my steps to eavesdrop. “More like dragged up,” she spitefully adds.
“How dare you.” Sloane’s voice is level, but I hear the simmering rage behind her words. “My mother was a single mom, and she sacrificed a lot so I never went without. She raised me right, and there is nothing wrong with this kitchen. It’s perfectly clean. Last I checked, I was thenanny, not the housekeeper.”
“We have standards here. Standards you’re already failing to measure up to, and I’m not just talking about the kitchen. You will stay here and properly clean the kitchen while I take Elio out to the park.”
“I don’t answer to you, and Cristian made it clear Elio ismyresponsibility now. I’m not staying behind. I’m going with you.”
“Listen here, you little gold-digging witch.”
I’ve heard enough. I’m seething as I stalk into the kitchen and face the warring women. “A word, Isotta.”
My stern tone brooks no argument as I glare at Elio’s maternal aunt. Elio is stalled in the doorway on the other side of the room, his little brow furrowed as he looks between his former and current nanny. “Hey, buddy.” I purposely soften my tone and smile at my son.
Horror washes over both women’s faces, and it’s clear they were too busy arguing to notice him.
“Sloane will get you ready for the park. Show her where your coat and boots are.”
“Okay.” His tone is meek, and I’m livid.
