Free Temporary Arrangement by Karen Erickson Page B

shopping again?” The child had more toys then he could ever, ever need. He was no better, indulging his only son far too often.
    “As a matter of fact, I did not. But I found him something much better than a passel of toys he would grow bored with in days.” His mother’s voice lowered as if she were about to tell him a great secret. “I found a nanny.”
    Relief flooded him. The last nanny hadn’t worked out, the old witch, hence his mother staying with them in the interim while they tried to find one. “Perfect. When does she start?”
    “She’s already here.”
    “What do you mean, she’s already there? As in at my house?” Anger replaced relief in a swift instant. “Did you do a background check? Get references? Conduct an extensive interview?”
    “I know she will work out. She’s perfect.”
    “Are you basing your hiring of this nanny on instinct? Because that’s a horrible use of judgment, I must say.”
    “You are so serious, Matteo. Too serious sometimes. Don’t worry about background checks and references. She’s a delightful girl.”
    Matteo closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mama, we are worth billions. What if this woman knows exactly who we are and planned to somehow insinuate herself into our house? What if she tries to sue us or blackmail us? Or worse?” Images of Matty being abducted and held for ransom flashed through his mind, sending an icy cold shiver of fear down his spine.
    “You are so dramatic.” She muttered something else under her breath in unintelligible Italian. “Where does that come from?”
    “You,” he said. “You’re just as dramatic.” Matty was the only precious thing left in his world. He’d lost his wife Lucia almost two years ago…not that he could consider her precious. Their marriage had hit a long rough turn before her death.
    Something he couldn’t quite forgive himself for.
    “Well, come home and meet her. She’s a lovely girl. So sweet and so good to Matty—he absolutely adores her.”
    That caught Matteo’s attention. None of the nannies they’d hired so far had pleased Matty. They were either too cloying, too stern, too easy, too…everything. They’d gone through five of them in the last year, since he’d moved them permanently to the States.
    After everything that had happened, he’d left Italy. He didn’t know if he could ever go back on a permanent basis. For work and to visit family, of course, though most of his immediate family had moved to New York as well. His sister Stasia lived with her husband Gavin not too far from his building. Both of his younger brothers had moved here as well, though they both tended to divide their time fairly equally between New York and Milan.
    “It’s Friday afternoon,” his mother continued. “What sort of pressing tasks do you have on your desk? I can tell you—none. We both know the fashion industry likes to take their Friday afternoons and spend them out of the office.”
    She was right. But the idea of a long, empty weekend stretched ahead of him hurt more than he cared to admit.
    “Come home, Matteo. Come meet Paige.”
    He blew out an irritated breath. “I’ll be home in an hour.”
    Matteo hung up on her before she could say another word, tossing his phone so it landed with a crack onto his desk. He resumed his study of the Manhattan skyline, noted the clouds had receded. A trace of blue sky appeared in the distance, dampening his mood.
    He’d hoped for a dark, dreary weekend so he could brood. Moody bastard that he was, he wasn’t looking forward to the spring, which was just around the corner. Sunny, longer days, pleasant breezes and blooming flowers made him angry.
    Everything seemed to make him angry. Except for Matty.
    Breathing deeply, he leaned against the back of his chair, casually curling the end of his silk tie around his finger. Would he ever forgive himself for Lucia’s death? They’d grown so distant. He hadn’t realized she was self-medicating to