Page 7 of The Nanny and the Nerd
With her scarlet scarf flapping elegantly in the breeze, the elder lady of mystery and intrigue stood before her. Even in an alleyway, she looked poised to take on the world.
Penny’s mouth opened and closed a few times like a flounder gasping for air before she could form actual words. “What are you doing here?”
“I have an opportunity to discuss with you,” the woman said smoothly in a rich, velvety voice.
She had to be a spy—or a lady assassin.
Penny tucked an errant lock of blond hair behind her ear. “Are you recruiting me to work for the CIA as an undercover agent?”
The woman’s lips curved into a sly grin. “No.”
Penny sighed. “That’s too bad. I bet the CIA offers decent benefits. Probably even includes dental insurance.”
“Shall we,” the woman said, then gestured to the coffee shop across the street.
Reality check.
One, this snazzy senior citizen wasn’t sent to spy on her. And two…“Are you buying?” Penny asked, feeling her cheeks heat. She’d saved up enough to buy a pitcher of margaritas. She and Charlotte had a standing date to meet up with their two besties, Harper and Libby, to fret about their broke-ass lives. And she sure as hell wasn’t about to blow any of her margarita money on a pricy latte.
“Yes, it’s my treat,” the woman replied with an amused glint in her eyes.
Penny shrugged. What else did she have to do?
It was a quick jaunt over to the coffee shop. True to her word, her lady of intrigue paid for her coffee. The women settled in at a table in the back of the shop. Penny took a sip, then released a weary sigh. “I’m not sure if you saw what happened back at the Crystal Cricket.”
“I saw what I needed to see,” the woman answered cryptically.
Penny set her mug on the table and leaned in. She’d never gotten a chance to really look at the woman. She had beautiful gray, catlike eyes that seemed to take everything in. Her olive complexion and red lipstick set off her stunning cheekbones. “I don’t even know your name,” she blurted.
The woman grinned. “I’m Madelyn Malone.”
Of course, she’d have a catchy name like that!
“I’m—” Penny began, but Madelyn raised her hand.
“You’re Penelope Fennimore, yes, I know.”
“I go by Penny. Only my mother calls me Penelope. And when she says it, it sounds more like an insult than an actual person’s name.”
Madelyn looked her over and nodded. “You are quite clever, Penny Fennimore.”
She stared at this enigma of a woman. “So, you do want me to work for you as a spy?” Penny asked, throwing it out there yet again.
Madelyn chuckled. “And you’ve got quite an imagination.”
Okay, this had gone far enough!
“I hate to be rude, but who are you, and what are we doing here?” she pressed. All she really knew about the lady was that she ate a hell of a lot of risotto and tipped well.
Madelyn took a demure sip of the steaming coffee. “Over the years, I have been many things for many people. I’ve traveled the world. Some would call me a gypsy. I call myself a facilitator.”
That didn’t answer anything!
“A facilitator of what?” Penny pressed.
“Fate,” she answered in that rich vibrato.
Penny frowned. “You facilitate fate? Like mind control, or are you some well-dressed crazy lady who thinks she’s got superpowers?”
