I didn’t really have much of a choice to come to begin with. When the agency calls with a request, you’re obligated to go and do the interview. It’s part of my contract with them, and I still have more than a year left on it. I thought I would stay on, but after this I’m not so sure anymore.
I can do what other live-in baby nurses do and go freelance. Then I wouldn’t be in a bind like I am now. I’m standing outside of Salvatore Castello’s fortress with my knees knocking together in fear. He’s a known mobster in this city. Actually, he’s the mobster in Los Angeles. People say no one does anything if he doesn’t like it, and they jump when he tells them to. It doesn’t help that two of his guards are flanking me. Both wear dark suits to match their dark hair and eyes. Everything about them is a blank slate of intimidation. Even the expressions on their faces are unreadable, but I’m terrified.
The problem is, when you freelance you don’t always know if you’ll have a job. With the agency, I went from one house to another, but I’d only done this twice already. I’d signed up to be a live-in caretaker after I graduated from nursing school. I was leaving my dorm and had nowhere to go, so signing with the agency made sense. The idea felt safe. I knew I’d have a roof over my head right away, and so far, it’s worked.
Suddenly the door that we’ve been standing at for over ten minutes flies open. A woman about my height stands there, her long rich brown hair looking a little disheveled. She’s clearly very pregnant and a little out of breath. When my eyes meet hers, they take me by surprise. They’re nothing like any color I’ve ever seen. They’re gray with light purple around the pupil. Her face lights up with a smile when she sees me. She really does look like she’s glowing. A small twinge of jealousy hits me at wanting that. I’ve always loved babies. I want a herd of my own, but I don’t think that is in my future. I can’t even put a roof over my head. Well, at least one that doesn’t land me in a bad part of town.
“Emma?” she asks.
“Yes, you must be Thea Castello,” I answer. My eyes go to her belly, and I can’t but help smile. I think it’s the first time I’ve smiled since the agency sent the Castellos’ file over to me this morning. There wasn’t much in it, which isn’t normal. I didn’t have the doctor’s records. Just their names and address and that this was their first child.
“Come in, come in,” she says. She goes to take a step back, but a big man comes up behind her. His hands go to her hips, stopping her from running into him.
“My angel. You think you’re clever?” His words are low and deep, but a smile tips his lips as he looks down at her. This is Salvatore.
She gives him a slap on the chest. “I really am hungry. You wore me out.” She pouts softly, then Salvatore’s face turns serious. He nods. His hands leave her hips, coming to her face to cup her there. He’s so gentle it’s a little shocking. This isn’t what I was expecting. I guess I wasn’t sure how he’d be with his wife, but I didn’t think he’d be like this.
“Then I will feed you.” He leans down and kisses her. She kisses him back, then pushes at his chest.
“None of that,” she tells him, hitting his chest again. He smiles as his hands drops from her face. He doesn’t care to hide the gentle affection he has for her in front of people. I guess I thought a mob boss would be cold at all times. That they might not even like each other. But now, looking at her, she isn’t what I thought she’d be either. I thought she’d be some model type. A trophy wife. Don’t get me wrong, she’s beautiful, but not what I thought she’d be.
“You’ll pay for that later,” he tells her.
He finally looks at me, and his face changes completely. Gone is the softness, and a serious expression takes its place. Now this is the face I thought I’d be seeing.
“Hi, I’m — ”
Thea cuts me off. “This is Emma, as you already know.” She shakes her head like she’s annoyed. “There probably isn’t one thing you don’t know about her. You probably know what she has for breakfast.”
“She ordered room service like she has for the last week she’s been staying at the hotel. Comes every morning at eight. The eggs medium, extra-crispy bacon, with hash browns and a side of pancakes with extra butter,” he says easily.
I stare at him, a little shocked. His expression doesn’t change. He clearly doesn’t care that he admitted to his wife’s words. He’s right. I’ve been at a hotel for a week waiting for my next assignment and I did order that every morning. Then I feel my cheeks burn at the fact that everyone knows what I eat. I’m not a skinny girl. I love food. It’s one of my biggest weaknesses, besides babies.