Page 29 of Nanny for My Billionaire

I have no earthly idea why some mobster-looking dude is tailing me and the boys, but there’s no way I’m going to lead him to our front door, so instead I take them to Alice’s Diner, the restaurant where Megan works, and we settle in to have an early dinner.

As I tell Megan we’re being followed, the very guy I came in here to avoid steps in and takes a table nearby, and I whisper to her that he’s the guy I’m talking about. She nods and smiles at me.

“Don’t worry, Sis, I’ll get to the bottom of this,” she says with a sweet smile. “I’ll bring you your drinks, go see what he’s ordering, and also see if I can grill him a little. It might take some strategic flirting, but I’ll find out what he’s up to for you.”

“I don’t even think he’s cute,” I say, snickering.

“You don’t? I don’t think he’s too hard on the eyes,” she replies. “Not that it matters, since he’s probably a bad guy anyway. I’ve had more than my fill of those.”

Although it’s slightly out of place considering the topic of conversation, the two of us giggle as she steps over to grab our drink glasses for refills. Before she even returns with them, the Italian guy is talking to me.

“Say, those are some cute boys you got there,” he says, accent and all. “Forgive me for asking, but are you their mother? You don’t look much like them.”

I roll my eyes. “Hair dye?” I ask, pointing to my head.

He nods, blushing slightly. “So, they are yours? I only ask because I am investigating the disappearance of twin boys in the area, and these two are just the right age.”

“Look, dude, I can sympathize with your issue, but you can’t just go around asking every woman with twin boys if she’s the one harboring the ones who are missing,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “First of all, if Iwasthe one who had taken them, I wouldn’t tell you anyway.”

He snorts slightly, like he appreciates my candor. “I don’t suppose you would.”

“Anyway, I can guarantee that these two boys are not kidnapped, okay?” I add, just so we’re clear on the subject, “They are my fiancé’s sons.”

“Sir, if you are going to disturb the other patrons in here, I’ll have to ask you to leave,” says Megan as she sets three drinks on our table. “Especially since this one in particular is my sister.”

“Yes?” he says, smirking now. “That resemblance I most definitely can see. And no hair dye?”

Megan’s eyebrows shoot up a mile high. “Noredhair dye,” she clarifies, casting him a frown. “Maybe some highlights.”

We all three laugh, and the boys look at us like we’re weird.

I say, “Get these two the burgers they love, and I want a chicken taco salad, please.”

“Great,” she says, still glaring at the guy. “What about you? Are you ordering or hitting the road?”

“I think I’ll order,” he says with a slow smile. “This room is too interesting to leave just now.”

I see Megan pretend smile as she steps over. “So what, you’re some kind of detective then?” she asks him, as she leans into the edge of his table with her hip. I think she may just end up riding a private dick later tonight, but I keep the opinion to myself.

“My sister hasn’t been back to Concord for very long after an extended absence. But if you’re trying to track down a particular set of twins around here, I might be able to offer you a little more help. That pair belongs to Adam Barlow, and if your client does happen to be their mother, her name would be Gena, and she’s a real piece of work. Nobody took her boys. She dropped them off with Adam over half a year ago and said he could have them forever, but recently showed up here trying to take them back like nothing happened.”

“No, no, I’m not looking for anybody named Barlow,” he says, shrugging. “But thanks for the information so I can write them off the list. I can’t say a whole lot more about my assignment, beautiful, but I sure could use some coffee and a slice of peach pie.”

“Sure thing, handsome,” she tells him.

“Miss Mom, why does Auntie Meg keep blinking her eyes like that?”

I giggle. “Yeah, I noticed that, kiddo. I kinda think she might like this guy.”

“There’s some other twin boys in our class,” Evan offers in an intrepid tone. “Rafe and Ramone. We all played blocks together.”

The detective raises a brow as if asking my permission, then at my nod he asks, “Are they dark-haired boys too?”

“Yes, sir,” he says, nodding. “They look a whole lot like you.”

“With the accent too?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s right,” he agrees. “You all talk funny the same way.”

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