8. Summer #2
Together with his daughters, the man who had mastered the smolder walked down the steps, coming to a stop where I stood with Enzo.
With his eyes never leaving mine, Matteo said, “Welcome home, Summer.”
Holy hell, was it hot in here? Because it felt like I was burning up.
Bianca was oblivious to the sexual tension growing so thick in the air you could cut it with a knife. She left her spot by her father’s side, throwing her arms around my legs with so much force I stumbled back a step.
She peeked up at me, a giant smile splitting her face. “Can we do my hair again?”
My hand smoothed over the top of the braids I’d done yesterday that she must’ve slept on, wispy strands having come loose. “Absolutely. I even brought some detangler with me that will help make combing easier.”
Matteo spoke. “Why don’t we get Summer settled first?”
Bianca’s eyes lit up, and she tugged on my hand. “Come see your room!”
Her excitement was infectious, and I found myself laughing as I let her lead me up the stairs. When we reached the landing and she turned right, then left, then right again, I wondered if I’d need a map to navigate this massive house.
She came to a stop before an open door. “This one is yours.” Without waiting for me, she ran inside, climbed onto the queen-sized mattress set against the far wall, and began bouncing up and down. “You got a big bed!”
I nearly jumped out of my skin when a sharp snap sounded from behind me and Matteo’s stern voice commanded, “Bianca, down. You know there’s no jumping on beds.”
Bianca’s tiny lips pursed into a pout, but she dropped onto her bum and scooched off the edge. Hands twisting, she dropped her eyes to the floor. “Sorry, Papa.”
Her father walked past me into the room, dropping to a knee. He still held the baby in one arm, so he used his free hand to gently grip his daughter’s chin. “I only want to keep you safe, principessa .” Then he tenderly placed a kiss to the center of her forehead.
Damn, I was about to melt into a puddle watching this man go from authoritative to sweet with his daughter in the blink of an eye.
When he rose to his feet, Matteo checked his watch, blowing out a heavy breath. “I need to get to the office.”
“Right, of course.” I ducked my head.
“I’m sure Bianca will be more than happy to give you a full tour in my absence, but Teresa, our housekeeper, is around if you have any questions about the girls’ schedules. I don’t expect I’ll be back before bedtime this evening.”
Stepping forward, I extended my arms to take Serafina, and he willingly passed the infant over. Her big brown eyes stared up at me as I bounced her. “Well, hello, little one.”
“Coming through!” Enzo called out, bringing my belongings into the room. He craned his neck around the stack of milk crates. “Where do you want these?”
“Uh.” My gaze scanned the room. Gesturing toward the nightstand, I said, “Over there is fine.”
“You got it.” He set them down on the floor and propped my suitcase beside the bed. Brushing his hands on his jeans, he looked around, musing, “Interesting choice for a room.”
My eyebrows rose. “Why’s that?”
Though it was quick, I caught the death glare Matteo shot his cousin, who replied, “No reason.”
Yeah, I wasn’t buying that for a second. What weren’t they telling me? What was it about this room that was so “interesting?”
Matteo quickly lifted Bianca, and she threw her arms around his neck before pulling back, and the pair of them rubbed the tips of their noses together.
When he set her down, he walked over to where I stood holding Serafina and shared a similar exchange with her, even though the baby wasn’t much of a participant.
“Until morning, topolina ,” he murmured against the top of her head.
And then he was gone, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air the only proof that I wasn’t dreaming.
In a daze, I asked the four-year-old, “What was that your dad called your sister?”
“Little mouse.” Bianca tickled Serafina’s foot, and the baby giggled.
“Fitting.”
“Come on! I’ll show you my room!” Bianca didn’t wait before she raced through the open door, and I hastened my steps to follow her so I didn’t get lost in this maze of a mansion.
Thankfully, she hadn’t gone far, rushing into the room across the hall from mine. The bed featured a pink tulle tent near the headboard, and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was an actual plush throne in the corner by a bookshelf.
“Wow.” I brightened my voice. “This room is fit for a princess!”
Bianca beamed at me. “That’s me! I’m the princess!”
“You sure are,” I agreed.
“Serafina sleeps next door.” She wrinkled her nose. “But she has a baby room.”
Laughter spilled from my lips. “I bet it’s just perfect for her, then.”
The baby I held cooed as if in agreement.
“I’m hungry,” Bianca declared. “Let’s get a snack!” Just like before, she was off like a shot, running ahead of me down the long hallway in the opposite direction—or at least, I thought it was; who knew with how turned around I was at this point—of the staircase.
There was some small comfort in knowing I wasn’t completely losing my mind when we came to the top of a different set of stairs.
Carefully making my way down the steps with the precious cargo in my arms, we were spit out into a kitchen that was easily twice the size of the apartment I’d left behind just this morning.
The same woman who’d opened the front door and escorted me to the library yesterday stood at the kitchen island, tapping away on a tablet, and she looked up at our arrival.
She offered me a curt nod. “Miss Reynolds.”
I hitched Serafina higher on my hip. “Summer is just fine.”
“Summer,” she corrected. “I’m Teresa, Mr. Bellini’s housekeeper. I manage the household and everyone in it.”
My spine straightened. Did that mean she was my boss instead of Matteo?
Teresa grabbed a manila envelope held to the fridge with a magnet and pulled out several pieces of printed paper, spreading them across the marble surface of the island.
Without delay, she tapped the first one and said, “Miss Bianca attends preschool two mornings a week: Tuesday and Thursday. You will escort her there after breakfast on those days and return to retrieve her before lunchtime.”
I shuffled on my feet. “I don’t own a car.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Rico will drive you where you need to go. His number can be found here.” Grabbing a different sheet of paper, she handed it to me. I scanned what appeared to be a directory, which also included Matteo and Enzo’s mobile and office numbers.
A black credit card imprinted with my name was pushed across the island next. “You’re to use this to purchase anything the girls might need while in your care. There is no limit.”
Holy shit. No limit? I mean, I knew the guy was loaded, but damn .
Gesturing around, Teresa continued, “You’re welcome to help yourself to anything in the fridge or pantry.
I go to the store on Mondays and Fridays.
If there’s anything you’d like added to the shopping list, either for yourself or the girls, please add it to the list on this tablet.
You can find it set next to the fridge, and anything added goes directly to a shared note on my phone. ”
She stepped over to a machine on the countertop that resembled a single-cup coffee maker. “This is the formula dispenser.”
“Uh . . . the what?” I’d never heard of such a thing.
Teresa sighed. “It mixes the bottles with the perfect ratio of water to formula.”
Jeez, rich people and their toys. Were they really too lazy to just scoop the formula into the bottle and shake it?
“It’s already calibrated to make the five ounces Miss Serafina drinks first thing in the morning, around lunchtime, at dinnertime, and before bed. So all you do is set a bottle under the spout and press this button.” I stepped closer to see where she pointed. “And it does the rest.”
I was still gawking at the bottle-making machine when Teresa pulled open a cabinet.
She tapped on a box set inside. “Twice a day, before her morning nap and before her afternoon nap, Miss Serafina has rice cereal mixed with a fruit, usually apples or bananas.” The jars of baby food were visible on the shelf.
Low in the baby’s ear, I whispered, “You eat a lot for a tiny little thing.”
“She usually will sleep for about an hour at 10 AM and an hour and a half around 2:30 PM. Bedtime is 8 PM.”
“What about Bianca?” I asked, my eyes darting to the little girl who had somehow gotten herself a package of fruit snacks and was happily enjoying her snack on a stool pulled up to the island.
Bianca’s brow wrinkled. “I’m a big girl! I don’t take naps.”
“That’s okay. We can have quiet time reading stories while your sister sleeps, just us big girls.” I tossed her a wink.
Her eyes lit up at the idea of a special activity for just the two of us, and she nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes!”
“Oh, and one more thing,” Teresa began, and I gave her my full attention. “When you quit, I’m the one who has to pick up the slack. So, keep that in mind.”
My mouth dropped open, and it took a minute to regain my bearings before I protested, “I won’t be quitting.”
She let out a humph. “That’s what they all say.”
I shook my head. “No, really.”
Eyeing me up and down like she was searching for my weak spots, Teresa pursed her lips. “We’ll see.”
There was no point in arguing since she’d already made up her mind about me.
But I knew with absolute certainty that I would finish out my sixteen-month contract here, come hell or high water.