Page 34 of Nanny for My Billionaire

As fate would have it, or perhaps by his specific designs just to mess with me, Vitto brings Megan to eat at Rudolpho’s. He’d reserved the table in the name of Mark Smith. I quickly called Margie, asking her to run that name instead. Fortunately, she hasn’t left the station and is able to pull up a very long list of guys in Boston alone with that name.

I discreetly snap a few pictures of the guy, and she narrows it down to twenty men with black hair, then cross-references with the image. It takes her a couple of hours, but she finally pinpoints exactly who he is.

“You’re not going to believe this, Adam,” she calls back to tell me. “That guy is a movie stunt double. He is working a gig on that movie they’re doing over in Boston, but he usually lives in a Los Angeles suburb. Also, he’s totally American. If he’s got an Italian accent, he’s probably faking it.”

“That’s completely crazy,” I say, shaking my head.

When I look in on the dining area again, Mark and Megan are no longer there. Now I’m not so worried that he’s some sort of a Mafia hit man, but that he’s working on breaking a girl’s heart. More importantly, I’m more convinced than ever that he must be connected to Gena somehow. Otherwise, why would he have come to Concord and placed so much focus on my boys? There’s the movie connection too.

I am fairly certain I won’t get any answers from him tonight, and I go home more frustrated than I’d been when I headed to work. I don’t know if I should take the boys to school the next afternoon, banking on the idea that this Vitto guy really is Mark Smith, or if I should continue to keep them safely home until I solve the puzzle. Because if this guy really is some kind of a spy, couldn’t he easily just switch around profiles with that Mark guy, like I’ve seen them do in movies sometimes?

Was I really willing to risk the lives of my children over a maybe?

On the other hand, why should I let him intimidate me? My kids deserve to get their education. They deserve to be at school just as much as every other five-year-old in their class. If I let this guy mess with my mind and I keep them home, that could spell other troubles, like the school going after me for breaking the law, for starters, and the kids never learning how to properly socialize.

Not that I expect this nonsense to go on nearly long enough for either of those things to happen, but still. No, I really just need to put my foot down.

As I slip into bed, I see that Melissa is wide awake, and by the look on her face I know she’s still worried as hell about Megan, not that I can blame her. “Hey, would you calm down a little, Miss? All that stress can’t be good for the baby. Listen, I know you think that Vitto guy is a little weird, and believe me, I do too, but I can at least tell you that the guy took Megan out for a great meal, because they showed up tonight at Rudolpho’s. And they were laughing and smiling and flirting together the whole time. I didn’t get the impression he was up to no good, at least while they were there.”

I’m thinking to myself how creepy he is. Using a different name at the restaurant. He’s up to something!

“Which doesn’t say much for what might have happened afterwards,” she grumbles. “I’ve texted my sister more times than I care to count, but she’s not answering. Neither is the so-called detective she’s out with. So, there’s clearly something keeping them both occupied.”

“All we can do is wait, at this point,” I tell her.

I debate about mentioning all the work that Margie has put in or the results she got from it. I also debate about how much to tell her about the weird conversation that had prompted me to keep my boys home.

If I tell Melissa he said the boys are in danger of being attacked—kidnapped, or maybe even killed—then it’s just going to freak her out even more. If I tell her the man her sister is out with may or may not be Mark Smith, a stunt double working on the same movie as my ex-wife, she’ll probably want to spring out of bed and go look for them.

Actually, I’m surprised she hasn’t brought up the idea even without all that info.

“I even tried talking to Sara, but she says they haven’t come back to the mansion,” Melissa adds when I fail to say anything else.

“So, maybe they’re at a local bar having a cocktail,” I offer.

“I sure hope they didn’t go into Boston,” she adds with a worried frown. “She really should have insisted on staying closer to home. God, I hope he didn’t take her to some seedy motel so he could have his way with her. Megan made the suggestion that she might be up for that sort of thing with him. You know how much she likes bad boys. But I sure wish she’d pick out somebody else instead of a complete stranger who was literally tailing me and the boys just days ago. And did you ever hear back from your cop friend? What did she find out?”

“Not a whole lot, so far,” I hedge—we don’t know if Vitto is Mark, or was just pretending to be Mark, so I think it’s ill-advised to make her worry even more.

I hate how, thanks to this guy, we’re back to keeping secrets from each other. I’d hoped we’d moved beyond all that, but in her current condition the truth could do more harm than good.

“Well, that’s inaccurate. She hasn’t located any Vitto Benzo with the proper license in an American database. If that guy came here from another country, there’s not much hope of identifying him using that avenue. She’s trying to see if she can use any other means now, but it takes the computer time.”

She cocks her head, casting me an assessing look. “What are you not telling me, Adam? Why would you take the kids out of school if all this guy is doing is trying to help a father locate his children so he can get to know them? Why would you tell me they’re not safe if there’s not something more than that going on?”

“Oh, there’s something going on, that’s for sure,” I say. “I’m just not sure what it is, and until I do know, I don’t want my kids involved. Let’s just say he gave me the impression that there might be someone planning to kidnap a set of twins, and if I don’t want it to be my set, I need to keep them under wraps.”

“Vitto told you that?” she asks, shocked. “That really doesn’t add up, does it? Not compared to the story he told me. How do we even know it isn’t him who’s supposed to kidnap the boys? He’s the only guy we’ve seen lurking around near the school. Maybe you ought to just ask your cop friend to take him in for questioning.”

I roll my eyes. “They can’t question the guy until he’s actually committed some sort of a crime. So far, the closest he’s come to that is getting too close to school property and getting told to leave by security.”

“He followed me and the kids, though,” she points out.

“And immediately explained why—if what he said is even true,” I add. “But after he spoke to you, he never tried to approach the kids again.”

“No, because instead he approached my sister. Maybe he figures she’d be a good enough hostage to make you hand the kids over,” she says, her eyes somewhat wild now. “We can expect a call from him any time now saying that he’ll kill both of our sisters unless you let Gena have her kids right now.”

“Well, I wouldn’t think he’d go that far,” I scoff. “You need to settle down and get some rest. All of this craziness is really starting to get to you.”

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