Chapter 2
brUNO
“This? This is the best we’ve got?”
Antonio stands in front of my desk, hands clasped behind his back. His face remains expressionless, which is unsurprising, standing still and stoic like the good soldier he is. “These are all the available nannies in the area, Boss.”
I clench my jaw, exhaling sharply through my nose as I lean back in the leather chair. My left elbow rests on the armrest of the chair, fingers to my lips as I look at the multiple open files in front of me, spread on my desk. Almost a dozen women’s faces smile back at me, but none of them jumps out. Not that I’m surprised—the ones that don’t impress me are women who are underqualified to be my children’s nanny, and others reject the offer as soon as they found out whose kids they would be looking after.
No one wants to take care of a mob boss’s kids.
How fucking inconvenient.
“Half of these women aren’t qualified enough, Tony,” I tell him, my gaze sweeping distastefully over the papers carefully strewn about before lifting my gaze to look at him. “Do you want my kids to be looked after by someone who isn’t up to my standards?”
“Of course not, Boss,” Tony says. “I’ll keep searching for more candidates.”
I just dip my chin once. “Good.”
He knows that’s a dismissal, so he just nods, turns, and walks out of my office, leaving me staring at the files. Frustration mounts, and I open a drawer to pull out a pack of cigarettes, placing one between my lips and flicking the lighter on. How fucking hard is it to find a nanny that has all of the right qualifications and passes a background check—who is willing to work for me and my family? Surely, there’s someone out there.
Not for the first time, Gloria’s decision to quit has me taking a deep drag of the cigarette. It’s not her fault, I know. She’s been looking after the twins since they were born, and I’m grateful for the five years she has spent with my family. But Gloria is also old— much older than me—and her health has taken a turn, forcing her to quit so she can take care of herself. She is a loyal, hard-working woman and I’m grateful for the time she has spent with my kids, Monica and Matteo. But her having to leave has forced a headache upon me, having to find her replacement before she leaves.
So far, not a single nanny has shown promise. And if one has, they don’t want to take the job. I guess they know better than to work for Bruno Cataldi. My name has the tendency to strike fear in most people here in San Francisco, just how I like it. Right now, however, it’s proving to be slightly inconvenient.
I exhale a cloud of smoke, my eyes sweeping over the papers once more. There’s plenty of business to take care of, I’m well aware, but I can’t focus on much until I get this headache sorted. My children’s lives take precedence over everything else, and that includes finding the perfect nanny for them; one that has no qualms in moving into my place, devoting most of her time to looking after Monica and Matteo and, preferably, home-schooling them as well.
But, apparently, finding the perfect nanny is fucking impossible in the city of San Francisco.
I’m aware of the presence in my office doorway before he even speaks up. “You look like you could use a drink. Or five,” Leonardo, my second in command, quips as he wanders into my office, shutting the door behind him.
His heavy footsteps thud quietly against the carpet as he makes his way over to the trolley in the corner of the room, one that contains my bottles of Scotch and whiskey and some tumblers. “I could use a fucking nanny,” I say in return, tapping the cigarette against the crystal ashtray.
Leo tosses a smirk my way as he uncaps one of the bottles. “Bit of a cliché, isn’t it?” he asks.
I roll my eyes at the obvious innuendo, the sound of liquid pouring filling the room briefly. “How hard is it to find someone qualified to look after the twins?”
“It’s hard because you’ve got standards none of these ladies are meeting,” Leo says, walking over to the front of my desk and gesturing to the papers. He shrugs slightly. “Or because they’re too scared to work for you.”
“Yes, I couldn’t figure that out for myself,” I say dryly, taking another drag.
Leo chuckles quietly. “I’ve got something,” he says, putting the glass down on the desk before reaching for something in the inner pocket of his coat. He pulls out a file before placing it in front of me. “I think she’ll meet all your requirements.”
I drop my gaze to the folder for a moment before leaning forward, stubbing out the last of my cigarette before I open the file. Immediately, my gaze lands on the photo presented, and my eyebrows pull together slightly. A woman smiles back, with blonde hair chopped to her shoulders and blue eyes that seem to glitter even in the photograph. Youthful, most likely in her late twenties—which I confirm when I look at her birthday, telling me she’s twenty-seven—with a smile that lights up her entire face. Her very attractive, beautiful face.
“Her name’s Diana Elliott,” Leo informs me as I try to drag my gaze away from her picture and read her credentials. I can’t seem to do it. “She’s just returned to San Francisco after living in Los Angeles for the last near-decade. She studied early education, and just happens to be a very sought-after nanny.”
“Is she?” I murmur, almost absently, still looking at her picture. Her features are open and friendly, a quality needed in a nanny.
“She’s looked after the kids of actors, musicians, directors, producers—she’s basically Hollywood’s number one nanny,” Leo continues. “She doesn’t run after jobs—the parents run after her. She meets all of your qualifications, Boss.”
I can see that for myself without Leo repeating all of the information spread out in front of me like he’s memorized it. It seems as though Diana has all of the credentials I want in a nanny, and is trained to be a teacher as well, which is exactly what I’m looking for for my five-year-old twins. The background check has already been done, informing me that Diana Elliott is as good as they come, with not so much as a parking ticket in her file. There are also plenty of letters of recommendation as well, her past employers praising her and raving about her ability to connect with their children, how well she takes care of them, how she’s the best of the best.
She’s perfect, and I tell myself I come to that conclusion based on the report on her, and not just the photograph that’s attached to it.
I close the file before my gaze lingers too long on her picture, my eyes flickering up to meet Leo. He looks satisfied like he already knows what I’m going to say before I say it. It wouldn’t be surprising—there’s a reason why he’s the underboss. “Track her down,” I tell him. “I want to meet with her.”
Let’s see if she accepts or gets too scared and refuses.
*****
“Daddy’s home!”
The door shuts behind me, and as soon as it does, I feel the tension of the day melting off my shoulders and a smile easily curving at my lips at the sound of my daughter’s cheer. I barely make it two more steps further into the foyer of my home when two pairs of feet are padding on the hardwood floors, and two five-year-olds are launching themselves at me.
I set the bag that contains a box from the bakery down on the ground as I crouch to my knees, accepting the hugs from my children. Monica and Matteo’s arms wrap around my neck, and I find comfort in their embraces, giving them a content squeeze before pulling back.
“Did you bring us cookies from the bakery, Daddy?” Monica asks, excitedly bouncing on the heels of her feet. Her grin is wide, and I can tell she lost the bottom front tooth that had been loose for days. She’s too excited about the cookies to inform me of this new development.
I grin, a smile only my kids can pull from me. It’s Saturday, which means I have one of my men head down to Slice of Life—the bakery that the pretty and potential future nanny’s father runs—to get a box full of cookies my kids devour during the weekend. Unfortunately, Victor, the soldier who made the run, had gone to the bakery before I found out about Diana. But when I’d questioned him later on today, he had said that Benny wasn’t at the bakery, and neither was a new blonde girl.
“What do you think?” I ask, lifting the bag up and watching both of their eyes widen with delight. “In the kitchen we go.”
We walk down the hallway, past the living room, and into the kitchen, where my current and soon-to-be-retiring nanny, Gloria, is already waiting. “Welcome home, Mr. Cataldi,” she greets, and we do our regular exchange of her taking the bakery box while handing me a glass of water. That’s always been something she does—makes sure I’m hydrated as soon as I get home, and not with alcohol. I’d forget to drink water if it wasn’t for Gloria.
She opens the box and puts two cookies each on two plates for the kids before handing them off. Monica and Matteo sit down at a small round table in the kitchen, and I watch them as I lean against the counter, sipping my water. Next to me, Gloria gives me the quick rundown of the day, telling me what the kids got up to today.
“Oh, and Monica lost a tooth, as you can tell,” Gloria says quietly, making sure the kids can’t hear us. They’re too busy munching on the cookies and talking amongst themselves to listen in. Gloria throws me a smile. “So, she’s expecting the Tooth Fairy to make a visit.”
The corner of my mouth quirks up as I take another sip of the water. Growing up, I didn’t believe in fairy tales such as the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, or even Santa Clause. My parents weren’t the heartwarming, keeping-up-silly-pretenses type to let me believe in such things. But my kids do—because it’s what their mother would have wanted. Their mother, who did grow up believing in such things, had always told me she wanted our kids to believe in them as well. Just because she was gone, didn’t mean her wishes would go unfulfilled. So, I do it for her, and for Monica and Matteo.
I nod at Gloria. “The Tooth Fairy will make a visit.”
If anyone outside of the secure and private walls of my home heard me speaking about such things, their view of me would change drastically. No one needs to know that Bruno Cataldi plays the role of the Tooth Fairy from time to time. I’d put a bullet in them before they could ever utter a word about it.
“Have you had any success in finding a replacement for me?” Gloria asks.
I glance at her. She’s older than me, shorter in stature, and has the features of a devoted, loving grandmother. That’s how Monica and Matteo see her, and I know it will be an adjustment for them once Gloria leaves. We already informed them that it will be happening so they’re better prepared, but I don’t think they’ll truly grasp it until it happens and someone else takes Gloria’s place.
Blue eyes, blonde hair, and a bright smile flash across my mind, but I shove the image back.
“I have a potential candidate,” I answer vaguely. “We’ll see how it plays out.”
“I hope it does,” Gloria says, and I see her wringing her fingers before her concerned gaze slips over to me. “If you need me to stay on a little longer until you find someone permanently, let me know. I’ll be happy to—”
“No,” I cut Gloria off sternly, making her purse her lips. “You’ve taken care of my kids all of their lives, Gloria, but now it’s time you take care of yourself.” As much as I love my kids, as much as they are my number one priority, I don’t want Gloria to put her health at risk to take care of Monica and Matteo. She’s family, and she needs to take care of herself. “They’ll be fine. I’ll find someone for them. Don’t worry.”
She sighs and nods, accepting my words, just as Matteo calls out, “Daddy, have a cookie!”
I smile slightly, pushing myself away from the counter and grabbing a chocolate chip cookie from the box, before walking over and sitting on the empty chair next to the twins. They both grin at me, crumbs of cookies stuck around their mouths, and my chest swells as it always does whenever I’m in their presence.
They deserve the best care, and I have a feeling that after Gloria, Diana Elliott is the only one who can step up to the role. It’s in everyone’s best interest that she accepts it.