Page 12 of The Mobster's Nanny

Oh, also, both of them praise my toast, one with more excitement than the other, and I can’t help a pleasant surge of pride in my chest. My original plan was to impress Matteo just for the sake of it, but actually, it’s quite nice to receive compliments just for being good at something.

Finally, after stacking the plates in the dishwasher and making sure Romeo’s shoelaces are tied properly, I get up to my feet and come face to face with Matteo. He came out of the dining room to bid us goodbye, and after giving Romeo a rather awkward kiss on his forehead, he turns to me.

“Good luck,” he says, still with that husky undertone in his voice. “Thanks for, you know, everything.”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s my job,” I say with a chuckle, feeling stupid warmth on my cheeks, and turn to Romeo. “Well, are you ready, hero?”

“Yes!”

We leave the house some five minutes later than I planned, but we’re still very much on schedule. I follow the directions of my GPS and Romeo himself, who is glad to point out every single turn and interesting place on the way. Apparently, one of the poles got knocked over last winter, and there’s a very big playground if we turn left at that intersection.

I listen to him without much attention, focusing more on the road, until something catches my ear. “Wait, what did you just say?”

I glance at Romeo through the rearview mirror. He isn’t even looking at me, staring at the window instead, but he repeats without a bat of an eye, “Misha and Max go to a soccer practice here. I don’t like soccer, but it’s fun to watch them sometimes.”

Misha and Max, huh?

“Are they your friends?” I ask, trying to sound careless, and Romeo nods a few times.

“Yes. We’re best friends.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” I pause for a moment. “They have interesting names, don’t you think?”

“I know, right?” Romeo finally turns to look at me with a grin, swinging his feet in the air. “It’s because they’re Russians. I think it’s so cool!”

I can’t help but laugh, catching sight of a sign withRockford Elementary Schoolon it. “Do you think it’s cool to be a Russian?”

Romeo doesn’t say anything, frowning in deep thought, and I don’t nudge him. We’re almost there anyway. I drive into the crowded parking lot, looking for an empty space, while Romeo gets all fidgety in his booster seat. He grabs his backpack, ready to take off, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“Looks like you are excited to see your friends, after all,” I say with a smile, and he audibly huffs but doesn’t protest while I park the car. “Now, wait until I unbuckle you.”

“Papa allows me to do it.”

“Well, your Papa isn’t here, and I can’t let you run away wherever you want,” I say with a slightly stricter note, unbuckling my own seatbelt. Romeo puffs his cheeks again and crosses his arms, looking away. Oh well, too bad I can’t let him do whatever he wants.

Romeo demonstratively turns away while I unbuckle him, and as soon as I’m done he jumps out of the car and looks around. I quickly catch his shoulder before he runs away, and Romeo purses his lips and huffs before pointing at the school entrance.

“My friends are there, see? With blue and purple backpacks. I’m going to them.” He looks up at me with frustration in his frown, and I finally let him go.

“Okay, I’m just making sure you’re safe.” I shake my head with a big sigh, and Romeo lingers for a moment, glancing at me.

“I’m fine, I promise, Miss Liss.”

Ah, isn’t he sweet? I can’t help but smile and wave my hand, shooing him away. “Good, good, now, go to your friends until the lesson starts. I’ll pick you up later!”

I almost yell the last words at Romeo’s back as he runs away to the entrance, and of course he doesn’t even glance at me. Kids, what can I say. I huff under my breath, feeling weirdly endeared, and lean on the car to watch him join his friends. Misha and Max, huh? Interesting. That’s something to keep in mind for later. I wonder if—

“Excuse me.”

I startle and push myself off my car, turning around. There’s a man a few feet away from me, studying me with a serious frown, and it takes me one glance to figure out that he’s Italian. What, are the Messinas going to stalk me now? But I can’t show that I know who he is and only look at him with surprise and caution.

“Are you Romeo’s new nanny?” he asks straight away, and I barely stop myself from chuckling. He couldn’t have been more delicate, could he?

“Yes, I am. Why?”

“Just confirming. Have a good day.”

The man nods and walks away just like that, leaving me staring after him with raised eyebrows. Okay, that was weird, but I guess I have to get used to it. The Mafia world has its own rules, and I don’t have to understand them to pretend like I follow them.

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