Page 4 of Of Lies and Shadows

“Absolutely not.” Marriage? No. I’m not marriagematerial. Never have been. Never will be.

Now that I have my children and the convenient cover of grief, I could probably avoid it forever.

“Exactly,” she says, tapping her forefinger against the folder. “Nannies. The best of the best, all fully vetted. Perfect for the children… and your lifestyle.”

I scowl at the stupid blue folder on my desk.

“You pick.”

She lets out a short laugh. “Nice try. I did the preliminary vetting. You’ve got five perfectly competent women in there. You pick. I don’t think any of them would be a mistake, and you need to do it fast because come next Monday? I’m gone.”

“What? That’s in a week!”

“Yes. I’m a grandma, too, you know. I’m needed. And Lucia and Alessio are your children. They need consistency.”

I drag a hand down my face. “I’m your capo. I can order you.”

She lets out a little laugh as she rises from the chair. “You can try… but we both know it won’t work.”

I shake my head and pull the folder toward me just as she escapes the room with a victorious little smile.

I open it with a huff, flip to the first profile, and wince. She looks old enough to be my nonna. And no, I’m not being ageist. It’s just that an older nanny wouldn’t last a week with Alessio. That child is a machine powered by chaos and sugar. I can barely keep up, and I’m thirty-two.

The second profile looks better. Early forties, solid credentials, glowing recommendations.

Okay, fine. My aunt wasn’t lying; she did pick the topof the basket.

Each profile is as impressive as the last, and I keep going, flipping through, one after another… until I hit the sixth one.

I blink and shake my head. She said five. And yet here we are.

This one is younger. The youngest of the lot at only twenty-three.

And for some reason, I think that might actually be better for the kids.

Someone closer to their world. Someone they can connect with emotionally, something they, unfortunately, don’t really get from me.

I’m a fair father. I treat them well. But I know I lack the emotional range to be agoodone.

I love my children. I truly do. I would die for them. But I don’t show it. We don’t do that in the famiglia.

Alice Winters.Degree in child development. Speaks English and French.

I pause at that. I take it as a plus. She doesn’t speak Italian, which means less risk of her listening behind closed doors.

She’s not bad to look at either, which is always a plus. Not that I’ll get involved with her.

God, no.

But with that dark-red hair and deep-brown eyes, there’s something about her… A kind of femme fatale edge that intrigues me more than I’d care to admit.

At the very least, she’s interesting enough to make her my first interview.

I call the agency’s number to request an interview tomorrow in my office downtown. She has been vetted by our team already, and the sooner she can start, the less guilty I will feel.

I’m significantly sleep-deprived,running on less than three hours of sleep. Lucia came into my room again last night. I sat up startled as soon as the door opened, my lifestyle forcing me to be alert. She didn’t say anything, just stood there, her eyes big and wet, her lip trembling and clutching that stupid stuffed giraffe like it could shield her from nightmares.

I didn’t know what to say. I never do.

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