Page 24 of The Nanny and the Hothead
Who was here now? Another damned visitor?
He turned. It was a visitor, but it wasn’t just any visitor.
It was Madelyn Malone.
She smoothed her scarf as she entered the office and shared a look with Ines.
“Is he ready?” the nanny matchmaker asked his publicist.
“Ready for what?” he interrupted.
How many more surprises would he have to endure tonight?
Madelyn procured an envelope from her satchel, then placed it on his desk. “The match is made. It’s time to meet your nanny.”
Four
Mitch
“I haveto meet the nanny now?” he blathered as his gaze bounced between the women.
Could he have a second to breathe—or cry out in frustration?
Ines nodded. “You’re due to pick up Oscar tomorrow, Mitch. There’s no time to lose.”
“This is a critical moment,” Madelyn added, observing him closely. “Your case has presented a few challenges. But I’m happy to report that I’ve found the perfect nanny candidate for you and for Oscar.”
A sense of panic tore through him. “Who is she? Is she here? Did you bring her to the restaurant?”
“No, I’ve set up a meeting for you at a nearby establishment. Open the envelope. The answers are inside,” the matchmaker directed.
He lifted the flap and emptied the contents onto the desk. What was this? He stared down at a set of car keys, a blank card, a smaller envelope withWhitmore Country Day School registration papersprinted across the top, and a vintage lock.
He held up the rusty hunk of metal in the shape of a heart. A little larger than a silver dollar, it fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. “What’s this for, Madelyn?”
“It’s an antique lock,” she answered matter-of-factly.
Shit! He knew that! Why was she giving him an old lock?
“I know. Why are you giving it to me? Is it for Oscar? Is it a toy?” he asked, his voice cracking on his son’s name. It still felt foreign to speak the two syllables. Despite not knowing him well, the kid was never far from his thoughts. But to say his name aloud added another layer of permanence to this situation.
A sly grin pulled at the corners of her lips. “The lock is part of the process.”
This woman and her crazy methods!
As a chef, he was all for following a regimen—all for order and discipline. But how the hell did a rusty lock fit into the nanny selection? He scanned the rest of the items. She’d given him an old lock, but the keys on the desk were too large and modern to work on it. There had to be another key somewhere. “How do I open it?”
Madelyn raised an eyebrow. “That’s an excellent question.”
Holy hell! It appeared this process was comprised of ambiguous answers and a bullshit trail of bizarro clues. He shoved the lock into his pocket, then moved on to the next item. “Is this the school stuff?”
“Yes, Oscar is registered for first grade,” Madelyn answered. “My dear friend’s granddaughter-in-law teaches at Whitmore Country Day. I believe Oscar’s been placed in her first-grade classroom. I think he’ll be quite happy there. My friend tells me there’s an end-of-the-year activity coming up where the class gets to stay in cabins in the mountains for the last week of school. They call it Outdoor Laboratory.”
“Okay,” he answered as it sank in. This was happening. School schedules. End of year activities. This would be his life. And he didn’t know a damned thing about being a parent. Hopefully, the nanny could take charge of this. The only thing he remembered about school was being sent to the principal’s office.
“My people have finished up at your house,” Madelyn continued. “They set up Oscar’s room and added a few items to the nanny suite.”
He was going from a party of one to a party of three!
