Chapter Seven
Alessandra
“Erica, I told you, we can’t go outside until your brother is done eating,” I say, lifting another spoonful of orange goop to baby Ben’s lips. Veggie medley, I think.
Erica groans and throws herself on the floor, ever the drama queen. I do my best not to roll my eyes and focus on feeding the baby.
All right, Alessandra, nine hours down, one hour to go. There’s a big plate of pasta and a hunky millionaire waiting for you at the end of this hell of a day.
Ben pulls his head away from the spoon, his tiny lower lip quivering with frustration. I try the old airplane trick one last time, trilling my lips and making the spoon look like it’s flying, only to be met with another head jerk from the baby.
“Come on, Ben, open up,” I croon, bringing the spoon to his lips again.
But the moment the goop touches Ben’s mouth, he shrieks in protest, pounding his little fists on the tray in front of him. Erica decides that now is a good time to start screaming over the sounds of her brother, asking me if it’s time to leave for the park yet.
Some days, my nanny job is so smooth and simple, it makes me feel like I’m cheating the system.
Today is not one of those days. And the only thing getting me through today’s nightmare is knowing that this is the night Quinn will finally be taking me out for a nice dinner. . .which means we’ll finally get to do all the dirty things I’ve been fantasizing about since the first time I stumbled into his office.
Trying to salvage my sanity, I remind myself that I learned a long time ago that there’s no use trying to yell over two screaming children, so instead, I sit quietly in my seat and wait for them to be done.
Erica finishes screaming first, tugging at the hem of her shorts and looking at me expectantly. I stick the spoon back in the jar of baby food and mix it around. He’s already eaten half of it, and I decide he can be done.
“All right, Erica, I think your brother’s done eating. Can you go get me his shoes? He’s not quite ready to leave yet,” I say in my calmest, most measured voice.
“I’ll get Ben’s shoooes!” Erica yells, turning and tearing around the corner to the coat closet.
I set the jar of baby food on the counter behind me and unbuckle Ben from his high chair. His little face breaks into a smile as I lift him from his chair, and he happily coos as I hold him on my hip. Erica returns to the kitchen, a tiny sneaker in each hand, and looks at me with wide, pleading eyes.
Before she can ask about the park again, my cell phone rings in my purse across the room. I carry Ben to the counter where my purse sits and pull out my phone, my spirits sinking at the sight of the name flashing on the screen.
“Hi, Lorraine, everything okay?” I ask, a knot forming in my stomach. Don’t do this to me, Lorraine. Not today. Any day but today.
“Alessandra, hi. I’m so sorry, but I’m gonna be a couple hours late. Things at the office—son of a bitch, don’t do this to me! Sorry, Alessandra, not you, this damn copy machine keeps jamming on me.”
I close my eyes and try not to sigh. Every fucking time I have somewhere important to be…
“Alessandra, sweetie, did I lose you?” Lorraine’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
“Sorry, I was just checking on Ben. That’s fine, Lorraine, don’t worry about it. Hope everything’s all right on your end.”
“Thanks, sweetie, you know I’ll do my best to be home by eight. Nine, at the latest. Gotta go. Thanks, doll.”
Fuck. I sigh and hang up the phone, placing it face down on the counter behind me.
“Was that Mommy?” Erica asks, sliding my phone toward her.
“Yes, that was Mommy,” I reply, taking my phone from her sticky fingers. “She’ll be home a little late tonight. And I told you, no playing with my phone without asking.”
“Sorry,” Erica mutters, looking down at her hands.
I look down at Ben, who’s miraculously fallen asleep against my shoulder. It’s not his naptime, but with the way this day is going, I’m fine with letting him do what he wants.
“All right, Erica, I’m gonna put Ben down for his nap, then we can go play in the backyard until it’s dark outside. Does that sound good?”
Her face lights up, and she nods enthusiastically. My heart sinks as I think of the dress I won’t be wearing tonight and the delicious Italian food I won’t be eating.
“And if you’re really good,” I add, gently patting Ben on the back, “we might even order a pizza tonight.”
“Yaaay!” Erica cries, quickly clapping her hand over her mouth and staring at her brother. Luckily for us, Ben sleeps like a rock, and not even her excitement is enough to wake him.
As I lie Ben down in his crib, I check the clock on the wall. Four-thirty. I’m not looking forward to calling Quinn, but I know it needs to be done.
Walking back into the kitchen, I tell Erica that I’ll meet her outside in a minute. She shrugs and sprints through the back door, itching to play in the sandbox Lorraine had installed for her a couple of weeks ago. I try not to think about all the sand I’ll have to sweep up later as I pull up Quinn’s contact on my phone.
That knot in my stomach grows a little bigger as I press CALL and the line begins to ring.
“Pronto.” Quinn’s voice chirps across the line, his cheery Italian greeting making me feel even worse about having to cancel. He even rolled the freaking r like the good Italian speaker he’s quickly becoming.
“Hi, Quinn,” I say, my tone giving away more than I mean it to.
“Everything okay?” he says, picking up on my hesitation. This would all be a lot easier if he weren’t so attentive and kind.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” I say, pacing around the kitchen island. “Well, not fine, really, but I’m okay. I, uh. . .I can’t make it tonight, though. Lorraine’s held up at work, so it looks like I’m stuck here longer than I thought I’d be tonight.” Just me and the freaking children from hell. Not exactly what I had planned for my evening.
“Oh,” Quinn says, and I can hear the hurt and disappointment in his voice.
“I’m so sorry.”
“No, don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but I just. . .I’m leaving in a couple weeks, and I was really looking forward to our date.”
“Yeah, me, too. But if the kids need you…”
“Yeah, I guess I can’t just leave them here on their own.”
Quinn chuckles, but I feel a sad tension settling between us.
“Are you free tomorrow night?” I ask, reaching for something to communicate that I still want to see him. I know I have a good reason for not being able to make it, but I feel awful for having to cancel our date.
“Tomorrow night I have a work function,” he says.
Well, shit, looks like we won’t be fucking anytime soon after all.
“Would you like to join me?” Quinn asks. “It’s a charity gala my brothers and I are invited to every year. Cooper and Gavin can’t make it, so I could use some company.”
My stomach drops. Didn’t see that coming.
“I’d love to.” I don’t think I have anything to wear, but now isn’t the time to worry about it.
“Wonderful. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Okay, perfect.” At that moment, I look out the window and see Erica sitting in the sandbox with her tongue out, slowly raising a handful of sand to her mouth. “Quinn? I gotta run. This little she-devil is about to eat dirt.”
“Go save the day,” he says with a chuckle. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
I tell Quinn good-bye and grab the baby monitor before running out the back door to stop Erica. My decision to stop her from eating sand sends her into a full-blown meltdown, just in time for baby Ben to wake up and start screaming in his crib.
I spend the next two hours playing zone defense, trying to calm both kids down long enough for their mom to get home.
• • •
By the time I finally make it home around eight o’clock that night, I make myself a sad ham-and-cheese sandwich and try not to think about the evening I missed out on.
I can’t believe I had to cancel my date with Quinn tonight. Lorraine can be flaky, but of all the times for her to be late, this was definitely the worst.
Sandwich in hand, I make my way to my closet and push clothes around, looking for a dress fancy enough for a gala. Based on the suits Quinn wears to work, I suspect this event will be black tie.
Just when I resign myself to the fact that I’ll need to go to the mall and get a fancy dress tomorrow, my doorbell rings. I frown and try to peek out my window to see who’s at the door, but the angle isn’t quite right for me to tell.
After setting my sandwich down on the table, I go to the door and open it to find a small man standing there with a large rectangular box in his hands.
“Delivery for Alessandra,” the man says, holding the box out to me.
Hesitantly, I take it from him, and he promptly turns and walks back to his car.
“Thank you!” I call after him and turn to figure out what the heck is going on. I take the box into the kitchen, where I use a pair of scissors to cut the ribbon across the top.
I open the box to find a note from Quinn sitting on top of something wrapped in off-white tissue paper.
Bellissima Alessandra,
Something for tomorrow night almost as beautiful as you.
Yours, Quinn
Intrigued, I rip through the tissue paper to find a gorgeous satin gown neatly folded in the box. I gasp and gently lift it out of the cardboard, relishing in the weight and silkiness of the fabric. The dress has thin straps and a small train, and an intricately beaded bodice.
As I gingerly hold the dress in my hands, excitement builds within me. No one has ever done anything like this for me before, so sweet and thoughtful. I lay the dress carefully over the chair in the corner of my room, afraid that my cheap hangers will hurt it.
Inside the box, beneath the dress is the most exquisite pair of heels, in my size, that match perfectly with the dress. I can't help but slip my feet into them and parade around my bedroom.
I can tell already that my date with Quinn tomorrow will be one of the most special nights of my life.