“Of course he is.”
“I hardly think so.”
Lindsay puts her hand on her hip. “Giovanni may not be as pretty as Anthony, I’ll give you that, but what he lack in prettiness he makes up for in many other ways, trust me.”
Natalie appears dubious.
Blair fidgets with what appears to be embarrassment. “Um, I think you guys are getting into sort of a weird area here if you don’t mind my saying so.”
Lindsay and Natalie both look at Blair, then at each other.
“She’s right,” Lindsay says to her sister, laughing a little. “I think there’s a certain ‘ick’ factor here we’re skating awfully close to.”
Natalie nods. “Yes, let’s just agree they’re both handsome and leave it at that.”
After working at the bakery every morning, Lindsay usually goes back to the house to find Giovanni playing handyman. He bought a shiny set of new tools at the hardware store, so every day it’s something different. Typically, as soon as she walks through the front door, he’s dragging her over to show her his latest project. Recently, it was installing new light fixtures in the downstairs bathroom.
He pulls her inside the bathroom door, flicking the lights off and on as if it were some kind of miracle.
“What do you think?”
“Very nice.”
“It’s quite an improvement, isn’t it?” He flicks the lights ten more times. “Look at that. Fantastic.”
“It’s great.”
“I think I’ll do the ones upstairs next,” he tells her. “Do you think I should stick with the same design?”
Lindsay opens her mouth but doesn’t get a chance to speak.
“I believe I will,” he says in his usual decisive tone. He’s still studying the new fixtures. “These were an excellent price, plus they remind me of my favorite opera house in Roma. Very elegant.” He flicks the lights some more, grinning like a little kid. “How about that? Isn’t that something?”
She smiles. “When do you start work at the hospital?”
“Not for another week, but I’m going in tomorrow for a few hours to get acquainted with everyone. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” She glances around the bathroom. “I wonder if I should paint in here too.”
“Absolutely. Choose whatever color you like.”
She arrives home from the bakery next Friday to discover he’s in the backyard pruning the tangle of neglected trees. He’s wearing a pair of faded Levis she’s never seen before and a gray short-sleeved T-shirt. Classical music plays from the new speakers attached to the iPod docking station he bought a couple days ago.
“What’s all this?” Lindsay asks, walking outside after changing into flip-flops. It’s a warm day, and the air smells like fresh-cut grass. She’s carrying two glasses of iced water and hands one over to him.
“Thanks.” He takes it from her, his throat working as he drinks half of it down.
“You’re getting these trees into shape?”
“Yes.” He nods, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It turns out they’re fruit trees. Isn’t that great? I’ve always wanted to own my own. As far as I can make out, there are two apple and two plum, and those are blueberry bushes over there.” He points to them like a proud parent.
The trees have obviously been neglected for a while, and she doesn’t see much in the way of fruit growing on them. But with Giovanni involved in their care now, she imagines they’ll be flourishing in no time.
He hands the glass back to her and continues pruning. She goes to sit on the back patio, looking around the yard and wondering if she should add flowers out here. Her inside painting projects are coming along nicely, and many of the rooms have at least a spark of color. It’s already brought more life to the interior.
Lindsay puts the glasses down on the ground and relaxes as she watches Giovanni work. He’s sweating through his T-shirt, and his cheeks have a healthy flush. Those soft jeans are hugging his ass and thighs in a way that’s almost indecent.
“Do you think you’ll be pruning much longer?” she asks, a hopeful note in her voice.
“Probably. I read it’s best not to cut too much in summer, but these are so overgrown I’d like to remove the dead wood.”
Nice.
She leans back on her arms and continues to watch, sipping her iced water, feeling like a voyeur. Classical music drifts out from the house’s open patio door.
It turns out Giovanni is into opera, of all things. She loves music, but has never listened to opera and has certainly never thought it was something she could enjoy. Oddly, she doesn’t mind it. There’s real passion in some of the singing—the libretto, as he calls it.
Only a couple weeks have passed since they arrived, but somehow the two of them have fallen into this peculiar domestic life together. Lindsay doesn’t remember ever feeling so at ease with either of her previous husbands and definitely none of her boyfriends—whom she always kept at what you might call an emotionally healthy distance.
Very ironic.
All her stuff is here too. They managed to get most of it moved from her storage unit with little fuss since Anthony was nice enough to help. She told Giovanni she had plenty of guy friends who could help bring her stuff over, but his face turned nearly apoplectic at the suggestion. Her queen-sized bed is in the downstairs bedroom, as she requested, and of course, he’s been sleeping with her every night. Despite all his new purchases, she’s noticed a bed for himself hasn’t been one of them.
Not that I’m complaining.
She’s comfortable—too comfortable—and a part of her is starting to get nervous with all this domesticity, though she’s mostly been ignoring that part for now.
He walks over, and she eyes him with appreciation.
“Why do I feel like a piece of naked bacon?” he asks.
Lindsay gives him a lascivious grin. “Because I’m undressing you with my eyes?”
“That must be it.”
“You look awfully hot. Are you sure you don’t want to take your shirt off? I’d be willing to make it worth your while.”
He chuckles. “But I’m a delicate flower, remember?”
“I promise we’ll keep it just between the two of us.”
“Well.” He pretends to consider it. “As long as you promise.”
He moves closer, and she pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head. “Speaking of delicate flowers, I think I might plant some along the border out here. What do you think?”
He reaches for his water and sits down beside her. “Sounds great. I like everything you’ve done with the house so far.”
She slips her arm through his. “Thank you. It’s been sort of fun, really.” She’s not sure why, but she has a strong desire to leave her mark on this house.
He finishes the rest of the water in the glass and puts it down. “It has been fun, hasn’t it? I’ve never experienced anything like this before.”
“Me, either.”
Lindsay’s eyes go to the way their arms are linked, taking in the ease of them together. All this domestic bliss. And what’s crazy is a part of her wants it, wants this life with him. She’s even looking forward to having Joseph and Sara stay here before they go to their uncle. She tries to imagine her and Giovanni together as an actual married couple, and it’s not that hard.
“Oh, I went by the hospital again this morning,” he says. “I almost forgot to tell you.”
“How is it going there?”
“Good. I’m looking forward to starting work.” He turns to her. “Listen, how do you feel about coming in and teaching an origami class to some of the kids sometime?”
Her brows go up. “At the hospital?”
“I think it’s something many of them would enjoy, but only if you want to.”
Lindsay is quiet, considering this. “They’d let me come in and teach a class? They don’t even know who I am.”
“Well, I told them you were my wife and a professional artist.�
� He grins. “I gave you a glowing endorsement.”
“You told them I was your wife?”
He nods. “Yes, Lindsay. We’re married, remember?”
“I know.”
He’s watching her, appears to be measuring her reaction. “You don’t have to do the class. I’m not trying to put you on the spot or anything.”
She thinks it over. She’s taught classes to kids in the past. Not at a hospital and not origami, but she knows she could do it. “That’s okay. It sounds like fun, actually.”
“There’s one other thing I should mention.” Giovanni considers her for a long moment.
“What is it?”
But then he shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Forget it.”
“Are you sure?”
He nods. “Yeah.”
She leans into him, already getting excited about teaching the class. “I have tons of origami paper. Lots of colors and designs. It should be a blast.”
“That’s great. I’ll let them know.”
“Oh, wait. Except I can’t do it on Monday.” She sits up suddenly, remembering. “I’m helping Natalie interview potential nannies.”
He chuckles. “Yes, I heard all about it from Anthony—who’s not too pleased, I might add.” He gives her a look. “You’re seriously trying to help them avoid something called the ‘nanny spell’?”
“Excuse me, but it’s a real thing,” she informs him. “You’re just blind to it because you’re a man.”
He gives her an amused look. “You know I was raised with a nanny, right? And trust me, my father never slept with her.”
“What did she look like?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Like a normal woman.”
“Was she young and hot?”
“No, she was older. Kind of plain.” He pauses. “Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure she was a lesbian.”
Lindsay nods with approval. Francesca was no dummy. “See, your mom understood.”
“So is this how you’ll be if we ever have to get a nanny?”
She goes still, the breath knocked clear out of her. She tries to recover quickly before he notices. “Why would you ask that?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. What if it worked out between us?” He searches her face then lowers his voice. “Stranger things have happened.”
She imagines the kind of life she’s certain he wants—big and messy with a house full of kids. It’s a life she’d love too, but she knows it’s not something she could ever give him.
She turns her head and looks out at the currently barren fruit trees. Just like me. She never tells any of the men she’s involved with about her infertility. She figures they don’t need to know, and what’s more, she doesn’t want anyone’s pity.
Another secret.
And one she has no plans to share with Giovanni.
“I have a whole list of potential candidates lined up for us to speak with today,” Natalie tells her, sipping from a glass of ice water with lemon. “Hopefully, one of them will work out.”
They’re in her sister’s dining room. Lindsay picks up the stack of nanny résumés Natalie printed up and flips through them. “None of these have photos.”
“I know. The agency didn’t forward any for some reason.”
Lindsay spreads the résumés before her on the table and studies them with a keen eye. From what she can tell, the nannies are all older women, which is good. They appear to have plenty of experience, and it looks like they’ve been vetted since each one has a page of outstanding references. Unfortunately, it’s not enough. “These are completely worthless to me without a photo.”
“I wouldn’t say worthless. I’m more concerned with what kind of experience they have.” Natalie glances over at Luca, who’s currently sitting in one of those baby saucer contraptions with all sorts of amusements attached. He’s grinning and drooling as he uses his fist to bat at a fuzzy bumble bee. “Although, what I mostly want is someone Luca feels comfortable with, and I can trust.”
“I know. And that’s what I want too. Just think of me as your guard dog. I’m here to sniff out any potential problems.”
“You know Anthony is fairly insulted by this whole thing.”
Lindsay nods. “I don’t blame him. I would be too if I were him. He’s a great guy, but he’s still a guy, and I imagine he doesn’t read trashy magazines, right?”
Natalie laughs. “No, I wouldn’t say he does.”
“So he has no idea how common the nanny spell is.”
Her sister sighs and picks up her glass.
“Hey, no worries.” Lindsay shrugs. “Just blame the whole thing on me. I don’t mind. I’m happy as long as I know in the end you guys are safe.”
“Just to be clear, I trust Anthony. I explained to him though how I do think you have good instincts about people.” Natalie considers her. “You’re just like Dad that way.”
Lindsay’s eyes flash over to her sister. She wonders if she should tell Natalie about the poker. It would be a relief to finally get it out there, but she decides this isn’t a good time. I haven’t hit a single card game since I’ve been back anyway. Her money is getting low, though. Of course, she doesn’t have a bankroll to play cards with either. Hopefully, I’ll sell a sculpture soon. Her agent, Emily, e-mailed her this morning and said the gallery in San Francisco was delighted by the piece that arrived from Berlin recently. It sounded like they were pretty certain they could find a buyer.
The doorbell rings.
“That must be the first one!” Natalie gets up to answer it.
Lindsay smiles over at Luca, who grins back. He’s quite a friendly little guy. “Don’t worry,” she tells him. “Your Auntie Lindsay is on the case. And you’re going to have the best damn nanny in the whole world if I have anything to say about it.”
“Come on in and have a seat.” She hears her sister’s voice from the other room. “I thought we could sit in the living room and just talk a bit.”
Lindsay stands as Natalie comes back into the dining room to get Luca.
“Would you mind carrying his saucer?” Natalie asks, reaching in to pull him out of it.
Lindsay grabs the saucer and the résumés and follows her sister into the living area. The women all take a seat while Natalie holds Luca on her lap. He’s squirming and reaching for the fuzzy bee again, so Natalie puts him back into the saucer. He immediately starts batting at it, laughing.
“What a sweet boy,” the potential nanny says. “What’s his name?”
Natalie grins. “His name’s Luca, and he’s six months old.” She motions toward Lindsay. “And this is my sister, Lindsay.”
The nanny introduces herself, and Lindsay leans back on the couch, studying this woman like Columbo. The nanny is heavyset and has short, wavy salt-and-pepper hair. Natalie chats about what she’s looking for, going down a list of questions. The nanny responds to all of them with ease.
The conversation goes well and after about forty minutes or so, they conclude the interview. Natalie tells her how she has a few more people to speak with, but that she’ll be in touch.
“What did you think?” her sister asks coming back into the living room after walking the nanny to the door. “She seemed all right.”
“Absolutely not.”
Natalie’s brows knit together. “Why? What’s wrong with her?”
“That nanny was way too attractive.”
“She’s sixty-eight years old.”
“I don’t care.” Lindsay holds Luca in her lap. She blows on his face as he giggles and tries to grab her mouth. “I’m your guard dog, remember?”
“You honestly think Anthony would have an affair with a woman old enough to be his mother?”
“And did you check out her rack?” Lindsay shakes her head. “Forget it. No way.”
Natalie laughs. “You’re completely insane!”
Lindsay motions toward her sister’s ample bosom. “Hey, we know what your husband’s tastes are like. The last thing we ne
ed is a nanny with a pair of double D’s—or worse—running around here.”
“You realize how offensive all this is, don’t you? You can’t just judge people like that or not hire someone for a job based on their body type!”
“Sure, you can. I’m doing it right now.”
“My God.” Natalie lets out her breath, still laughing as she sits on the sofa beside her. “I’m glad there’s no one around to hear this conversation. I’d be mortified.”
“Look, she was too strict anyway.”
This gives Natalie pause, and she appears to be thinking it over. “She was kind of strict, wasn’t she?”
“I thought so.”
“All that business about schedules for this and schedules for that.” Natalie looks down at Luca, who’s happily chewing on a cold teething ring Lindsay gave him. “Anthony and I both prefer to just feed him whenever he’s hungry.”
“I agree, so let’s move on. When does the next one arrive?”
Natalie and Lindsay spend all afternoon interviewing nannies—five in all. The youngest was sixty-seven, the oldest eighty.
“Jesus, are there no hags left in this world?” Lindsay says with disgust as Natalie comes back from walking the last candidate to the door. “Every one of those women was far too attractive.”
“I’m exhausted.” Natalie flops down on the couch. She reaches over for Luca, who’s starting to get fussy, taking him from Lindsay’s lap. “And you truly are insane. You know that, right?” She settles back down on the couch, adjusting her clothes to nurse the baby.
“I’m not insane. I’m just trying to help you find a suitable nanny.”
“That last one was eighty years old, and you thought she was too hot?”
Lindsay snorts. “Trust me, she’s still got game.”
“Come on.” Natalie rolls her eyes. “She was a totally nice grandma type.”
“Oh, really? How many times did she mention how she thought Anthony was handsome?”
During their last interview, the grandma nanny walked over to the fireplace mantel to look at some of the family photos. She kept staring at the pictures of Anthony, commenting on them even after she sat back down again.
Natalie opens her mouth then tilts her head. “Huh.”
Some Like It Hotter (Sweet Life in Seattle #3) Page 24