Liss
Okay, how do I look? I quickly glance down, fixing the invisible wrinkles. My blue skirt is long enough to be casual but not seductive, and the collar of my blouse is open only enough to show my necklace. Perfect, right?
Everything has to be perfect today.
After a moment, I raise my head, straighten my shoulders, and pull out the most charming smile in my arsenal, checking myself in the rearview mirror. Now, that’s what makes it perfect. I run a hand through my hazelnut hair for the last time and check my glasses. I usually wear contacts, but I like how the glasses add professionalism to my look.
Finally, I take a deep breath and get out of the car with my papers in hand, taking a quick look around. Yeah, the house of Matteo Messina is… not as posh as I imagined. For a man of his position, I expected it to be big or, at the very least, expensive. But Matteo’s house looks modern and simple with big windows, straight lines, and black and white colors.
I linger for a moment, taking it in, and listen to the satisfaction growing in my chest. God, I’ve been waiting for years to get to this place- and finally, the sweet taste of revenge is so close I can feel it on my tongue.
I smile to myself, walk to the door, and ring the doorbell a couple of times, holding up the papers to my chest. A lively melody reaches me from inside, followed by a string of vigorous barking. Oh, yes. The company mentioned a few times that Matteo has a golden retriever. Well, it’s good that I had one when I was a child and my family was complete.
“Dolce, stop.” I hear Matteo’s voice even before he opens the door, and something in my chest tightens in response.
It’s actually happening, it’s-oh. I swallow and look up.
In real life, Matteo Messina looks even more damn handsome than in the photos and from afar. He’s in his forties-forty-two, to be precise- but it seems that age only adds more charisma to his looks. He’s tall and broad like the other Messinas, with olive skin, dark and calm eyes, a prominent jawline, and curly hair almost reaching his shoulders.
The black t-shirt he’s wearing compliments the muscles of his chest, and I can’t help but glance at his bare forearms. Shit. No matter what, I have to admit that he looks good…but it changes nothing about who he really is.
“Hi.” I smile as sweetly as I can, looking up and meeting his eyes with a tilt of my head. “Mr. Messina, right?”
“You can call me Matteo.”
His expression softens as our eyes meet, and I catch his gaze darting over my face and body with what looks like interest-but maybe I’m just seeing things. Before I can make sense of the feelings that wake up in me in his presence, Matteo waves a hand and opens the door wider, gesturing for me to come in.
“And you are Melissa.”
“Liss,” I quickly correct him with a scrunch of my nose that’s supposed to look cute. I’m not a big fan of my name, so I always prefer the shorter and lovelier version. “Just Liss.”
“Okay, Liss, come on-Dolce, no!”
But before Matteo can do anything, a big golden retriever jumps on me in excitement, panting into my face and wagging his tail like crazy. Oh, what a sweetheart! I instinctively catch Dolce’s paws and coo into his nose, giggling when he lets out a small greeting and jumps back on the floor.
“I’m sorry,” Matteo says with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “Dolce can be quite a bother when he’s excited.”
“Oh, don’t worry, it’s nothing.” I glance at Matteo with a chuckle before looking at Dolce again. “You didn’t mean it, huh? You are a good boy, yes, you are.”
I crouch next to the retriever, scratching his side and giggling when Dolce rubs himself against me with an excited look in his eyes. It’s been so long since I had a dog it almost makes me forget about the reason behind my visit. But a few seconds later I hear the tapping of bare feet against the floor and look up.
“And you must be Romeo,” I say with a smile to a little boy with curly hair and big honey eyes looking at me with a curious frown.
He nods, still studying my face. “I am. Are you one of the new nannies?”
I chuckle and nod. “I am. At least, I hope so. You can call me Liss.”
I hold out my hand for him-boys his age like being treated like adults-but Romeo eyes it with suspicion before suddenly moving forward to grab it. Oh. I feel something sticky on his palm, and the moment I raise my eyebrows Romeo starts to giggle. It must be a joke, huh?
But I only chuckle and squeeze his hand back. It doesn’t really bother me. All kids are the same. As long as it’s not poop or vomit, it’s good, but even if it was…well, I’m here to be a perfect nanny for him.
“Oh, what’s that?” I laugh and look at my palm as soon as Romeo lets go of it. Dolce immediately pushes his nose between us and, with a loud sniff, starts licking my hand. “Something yummy, huh?”
“Romeo,” Matteo says with a low warning, but the boy doesn’t pay attention to him, giggling at Dolce’s enthusiasm.
“Yes, I had ice cream. Papa said I can eat it as long as I behave. Can I get some more?” Romeo turns to his father, and I can’t help but chuckle, glancing at Matteo as well. He looks rather displeased and almost
embarrassed by his son’s antics, and for a man his age it looks almost cute.
“No,” he grumbles, and Romeo’s smile immediately disappears, replaced by a frown.
“But, Papa! You promised!”
“Yes, I said that if you behave well, you can get some ice cream. Do you think talking back to your dad is good behavior?” Matteo crosses his
arms, giving Romeo a stern look. But even before he finishes the question, I see Romeo purse his lips and draw in a deep breath. Oh, dear. Is he going to yell?
“No, you-”
“Wait, wait.” I wave my hands, looking between them in search of a compromise. Damn, is this a test of how good of a nanny I am, or what?
“Let’s not make it worse, okay? Romeo, if you want to ask your dad for something, yelling is not the best choice.”
I scrunch my nose again and shrug when Romeo frowns even harder and casts his gaze to the floor, still pouting. Of course he isn’t happy about it, who would be?
“And you.” I turn to Matteo, who blinks in surprise and looks at me. I bet he didn’t expect me to scold him, but if he wants his son to behave he has to be fair with him. “I’m sorry if I’m being straightforward, but Romeo did nothing wrong. He was very quiet and polite when he came out to greet me. Don’t be so harsh.”
And out of an old habit, I place my hand on Matteo’s shoulder and squeeze it to ease the potentially unpleasant effect of my words. What I didn’t think through was that my hand landed on the bare skin of his arm, and the gesture of sympathy now feels like an intimate touch. Shit.