Alessandro and the Cheery Nanny. Amy Andrews
theatres at St Auburn’s. I stayed with her for a couple of weeks when I first arrived but her husband walked out over two years ago and she has a three-year-old with high needs. I can’t impose on them again.’ She shrugged. ‘The short answer is, I don’t know. But something will show up. It’ll work out, it always does.’
As soon as the words were out the lights flickered on in the lift and the air-conditioning whirred to life. Nat laughed. ‘See?’
Alessandro smiled, picking up his pager and stethoscope off the floor as the lift shuddered and began its descent. He vaulted to his feet and held out a hand to her. She hesitated for a fraction and then took it. He pulled her up, the lift settling on the ground floor as she rose to her feet, causing her to stumble a little.
Nat put her hand against his chest to steady herself, aware that his other arm had come around to help. She copped a lungful of something spicy and for a brief dizzying second she considered pushing her nose into the patch of neck his skew tie had revealed to see if she could discern the exact origin. His lips were close and his gaze seemed to be suddenly fixed on her mouth and all she could think about was kissing him.
His heart thudded directly below her palm and the vibrations travelled down her arm, rippling through every nerve ending in her body, energising every cell.
The lift dinged and saved her from totally losing her mind. ‘Oops, sorry,’ she said, pushing away from him, uncharacteristic colour creeping into her cheeks.
The doors opened and a small crowd of maintenance people as well as department staff were there to greet them, clapping and cheering.
Nat risked a quick glance at him, dismayed at the heat she saw in his eyes again. Her blush intensified. She hightailed it out of the lift without a backward glance.
Alessandro had not long been home with Julian early that evening when the doorbell rang. He opened it to a middleaged woman and ushered her in. Debbie Woodruff was the tenth applicant for live-in nanny he’d interviewed.
He had no intention of the crèche being a long-term solution for Julian. Yes, it was open 24 hours a day and Julian seemed to like it there, at least when Nat was on anyway, but he’d already been dragged halfway round the world. His son deserved stability. And that was one thing he could give him.
Debbie seemed very nice and was plainly well qualified. Julian was polite, as always, saying please and thank you as Camilla had taught him, eating carefully, playing quietly. But he wasn’t enthused. And Alessandro had to admit he wasn’t either.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted. Someone to love Julian, he guessed. Not for it just to be another job. A pay cheque. What his son needed was a mother.
His mother.
Guilt seized him as he saw Debbie out. The one thing Julian needed the most, and he couldn’t give it to him. It was his job. He was the father. He was supposed to provide for his son.
Alessandro entered the lounge room. Julian looked at him but didn’t smile or acknowledge him. He sat next to his son and wished he knew how to bridge the gap. Wished his father had been around to be a role model for him, instead of the distant provider. Wished he hadn’t let Camilla distance him from his own son.
He looked down at Julian, who was watching television. ‘Did you like her?’ he asked.
Julian turned and looked at his father. ‘She was okay.’
Hardly a glowing endorsement. ‘Have you liked any of them?’
Julian shrugged, looking at him with big, solemn eyes.
‘Who do you like?’ he asked in frustration.
‘Nat,’ Julian said, and turned back to the TV.
Of course.
Great. Nat, who couldn’t mind her own business. Nat, who spoke her mind. Nat of the lift. Nat of the zipper. Nat, who he’d dreamt about every night since they’d met.
Anyone but her.
Alessandro looked down at his son and sighed. Julian wanted Nat. And that was all that mattered.
Nat it was. That he could do.
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