Page 29 of Nanny to the Mafia

Looking at a very interesting spot right above my right shoulder, she had asked, “Will I still have a job … if I say no?”

“No.”

That had earned me a kick in my groin. Of course, I hadn’t meant that. I wasn’t letting her go. But if I said that, what was going to be my leverage? Besides, no was not an option.

So, I pursued her, and I hounded her.

The next day, I followed her and Cora to the bathroom. She couldn’t block me off when she had my baby with her.

“This is getting ridiculous. This is a win-win for both of us.”

“How is this a win-win for both of us?”

There was nothing but admiration in me for how, even when she was fuming with fury, she could handle Cora with such gentleness. She was tickling her while changing her diaper but shooting daggers at me.

“Win for me because I get custody, and of course, you aren’t bad to look at …”

“Of course,” she scoffed.

“Win for you because you will get a handsome reward and me.”

“Imagine that. I get you.” I had a distinct feeling that she wasn’t thinking of it as an advantage. “And a reward! What is this? Are you looking for your lost dog?”

Picking Cora up, she came to stand next to me, her words in stark contrast to how gently she was rubbing her tummy. “You can shove your win-win situation up your ass.”

I was in my office with Marco when she barged in with Cora on her hips.

“Another point,” she said, totally ignoring Marco and continuing our discussion as if two days had not passed by, “Your mother hates me.”

I shoved my chair back to turn towards her. “What does that have to do with you marrying me?”

Marco was watching us with his mouth open, following the discussion as if he were at the Roland-Garros.

She huffed, “Everything. She is your family. You should marry a good Catholic girl like she wants you to.”

Marco turned expectantly to me with a smirk on his face. He was pissing me off.

“Mia cara, the things I want to do to you are neither good nor Catholic and do not involve my mother. Unless you want to, of course.”

“Goddammit!” She had obviously passed her not cursing in front of Cora phase. She flipped around to go, but before she left, she said sweetly to Marco, “I have the recipe you wanted. Stop by before you go. We can do coffee.”

Do coffee!

My vision blurred, and I saw red. Fucking Marco gets a smile, a recipe, and coffee, and I get her shitload of attitude? I watched Marco gobbling her words down, smiling, and following her with his eyes until the door closed. Then, he turned around to smile smugly at me.

“I think she’s more into me than you.”

My fist hit Marco before my mind could follow. That was the first time I had ever hit him.

On Saturday, I was knocking on her door.

I swear to Jesus I am this close to dragging her to city hall, voluntary or not.

“Go away!” How did she even know it was me? I didn’t listen. I never listened, so I opened the door.

“What are you? Deaf?” she snapped from her bed, lying on top of her sheets in yet another short dress.

“Can we speak about this like adults?” I sat down next to her.

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