Page 236 of The Havenport Collection

Matteo

I wasn’t sure what I was thinking, asking Eliza to babysit for me, but I couldn’t help myself. The poor woman could lose her job, and I felt responsible.

It was not my favorite personal quality, my constant need to take responsibility for everything and everyone. I needed to be a fixer and solve everyone’s problem. I knew it wasn’t healthy. But some days, I just didn’t have the energy to fight it.

And with Eliza, I had no hope of fighting it. Since that night in the hospital when she had saved Valentina, I hadn’t stopped thinking about her. There was a steely determination beneath the smiles and the jokes, and I admired that.

Given that my mind frequently wandered to her, I had also developed a very annoying desire to see her and spend time with her.

To be around her, to feed her and help her and watch her shine.

It was confusing and inexplicable, and I’m sure a therapist could have a field day with the thoughts that constantly swam around inside my head.

She was picking up Val four days a week for me from school and handling the after-school commitments and homework.

It was already a huge weight off my shoulders and allowed me to spend some necessary time catching up at work.

Val had been so sick this winter I had taken a lot of time off and leaned on Nick way too much at the restaurant.

I wished I had more help. I had a kitchen staff, but the business end was killing me, and there just weren’t enough hours in the day.

There was a huge backlog of paperwork to get through, not to mention ordering and planning for the upcoming summer, which was our busiest season.

Throw in several upcoming Havenport festivals, and I was drowning.

Last week, I had messed up our meat order and found myself with bone-in chicken breasts instead of boneless.

Customers were complaining about the lack of chicken parm, and we lost a ton of money.

And one of my line cooks had quit, making things even more hectic.

I needed help, both in the kitchen and with management, but there just wasn’t budget for it yet.

And I forgot about the school bake sale, which I had promised to make four dozen cannoli for, earning me nasty looks from the PTA moms at drop-off.

But today had been better. I fell asleep to thoughts of Eliza and awoke at five a.m., lonely and achingly hard.

Disgusted with myself for lusting after the babysitter and being a sad, middle-aged man cliché, I headed to the basement for a punishing workout.

If I couldn’t sleep, I could at least keep myself in shape.

Just because I was forty-one didn’t mean I had to let myself go.

It was just after six that night when I walked in the door to the sound of music playing and found Val and Eliza dancing in the living room to “Let it Go.” Eliza was wearing a plastic crown with blue jewels and elbow-length gloves, and Val was fully decked out in her Elsa costume she had conned me into buying her when we visited Disney World with my brother Bruno, his wife, Barb, and their kids last year.

They were singing and dancing dramatically, and Eliza was whipping her hair around, clearly having a ball. I paused in the doorway, watching them have fun together, and my heart clenched. They were holding hands and spinning in a circle now, laughing and squealing together.

For once, I didn’t feel the single parent guilt. I felt happy and excited to come home to a happy kid and this magical woman who was making my life a little bit easier every day.

Val needed a woman in her life. She deserved a mother, someone to share the experience of being a woman with her. Someone to guide her and be silly with her and do all the sorts of things that mothers and daughters did. I tried my best; I really did. But I could never replace a mother.

And Mandy was not a candidate. She was too flighty, too much of a risk. She changed her mind frequently and could never commit to a long-term coparenting strategy. I know she loved Val in her own way, but she was not a day-to-day option.

“Daddy!” Val ran over, throwing her arms around my waist.

“How was your day, sweetie?” I asked, picking her up and twirling her around.

Val started chattering about school, who she had played with at recess, the book she was reading, and various mundane details. “Then Eliza picked me up and we took a walk together and then she painted my nails.” She held up her hands, one painted with sparkly pink polish, the other sparkly purple.

“Awesome. Did you do your homework?”

She nodded. “All done. Eliza checked it too.”

I looked up and saw Eliza standing there, looking sheepish.

“Sorry,” she said, “I didn’t realize how loud the music was.”

I laughed. “I didn’t peg you for an Elsa fan.”

“Anna is my girl, through and through, but that song is just too catchy.”

“Don’t I know it. It haunts my dreams.”

She smiled and bit her lip. Fuck, it was sexy.

“Daddy, can Eliza stay for dinner?” Val begged. My stomach clenched. What was the protocol here? I didn’t want this poor woman to feel like she was obligated to hang out with us.

“I’m sure Eliza has plans.”

Val put her hands on her hips and looked at Eliza. “Well, do you? Have plans? Or can you stay? My dad is an amazing cook.”

Eliza forced an awkward smile. “No plans. I’d love to. But I don’t want to impose.”

Val grabbed her hand and vowed, “No trouble at all. My dad loves to cook for people. Let’s go play in my room until dinner’s ready.”

“I just need to charge my phone,” she said, looking through her purse.

“Here,” I said, opening a kitchen drawer and pulling out the extra phone charger I had bought knowing she would use it. It drove me crazy that she never had a full battery. What if there was an emergency?

“I’ll keep this right here for you,” I said, and she gave me an embarrassed smile.

“Eliza! Come with me so I can show you my Legos.”

Eliza made eye contact with me as Val dragged her up the stairs. “Sorry,” she mouthed. I shrugged and smiled, feeling grateful that I was raising such a pushy child.

“This is incredible,” Eliza said, using her naan to soak up some of the sauce.

I shrugged. “I worked at an Indian restaurant in LA for a few months. Picked up a few tricks. This butter chicken is super easy, and Val actually eats it.”

“And this curried cauliflower? So good.” She took a bite and groaned, and I swear it went straight to my dick. If my kid wasn’t in the room I’d have my hand down her panties by now. Watching Eliza eat was fucking hot.

Like all things in life, Eliza approached her meal with enthusiasm and excitement—savoring every bite, making little moans to show her appreciation, and asking for seconds.

I loved a woman with an appetite. In my experience, a woman who was uninhibited in the kitchen usually was in the bedroom as well.

And I would be lying if I hadn’t spent a healthy amount of time thinking about Eliza in the bedroom.

And it felt nice to be appreciated. I cooked all day every day for all manner of people, and I knew I was good at it, but it felt nice to sit in my own house and have someone gush over a simple meal I had thrown together.

I liked providing for people, even if it was just a meal, and I was realizing more and more I loved providing for Eliza.

She was so grateful and so enthusiastic, it made me want to give her so much more. Sadly, I had very little to give.

“So, Dad,” Valentina said in the voice she used when she wanted something. “Since Eliza is picking me up again tomorrow, I was thinking she could take me to dance class after school.” She smiled and tilted her head, clearly trying to manipulate me.

I sighed. We had this fight last week. “Valentina. We’ve discussed this. No dance until you’re fully recovered from the flu and your attack. You need to get your strength back before you push yourself too hard.”

“But I was just dancing with Eliza earlier, and I felt fine.”

“I told you, no activities until we see the pulmonologist next week.”

“But I feel great, and I want to go so badly. I just want to feel normal again.”

“Not yet.”

She slammed her water glass on the table and glared at me. The Rossi women were known for their fiery tempers, and my daughter was no exception.

“You,” she said, pointing at me, “are the worst dad ever.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s a bit dramatic.”

She shook her head. “Nope. You are trying to ruin my life. Your life is terrible and boring and so you want mine to be too.”

I ignored the hyperbole, used to the dramatics. “You are still recovering, Val. It’s only been a couple of weeks. It’s still cold and flu season, and you have a few more sessions with the physical therapist. We will go back to dance and karate and all the stuff soon.”

“It’s April. That’s spring. No more cold season.”

“Not in New England. April is just the second half of winter. Can you just trust me for once? I am only trying to keep you safe and healthy.”

Val shot me a death glare and then slowly took her napkin off her lap, folding it carefully and placing it next to her plate. She turned slowly to Eliza.

“Thanks for hanging out with me, Eliza,” she said kindly. “I will see you tomorrow?”

Eliza nodded.

“Good night.”

Then Val turned and stared at me with total rage. I half expected flames to start shooting out of her eyes.

She turned and walked out of the kitchen, and I could hear her stomping up the stairs.

“I’m sorry,” I said to Eliza, embarrassed she witnessed our family drama.

“Don’t worry about it. I adore that kid. But she definitely has a temper.”

“It’s the Rossi family curse. You know my sister?”

She nodded. “I think she’s fierce and amazing.”

I laughed. “I’m terrified of her, but I’m glad you like her.”

She giggled. “I can’t imagine big bad Matteo afraid of anyone.”

I puffed up a bit at her compliment. I leaned forward and confided, “That’s where you’re wrong. My daughter scares the shit out of me. If she’s this difficult at eight, I can’t imagine what’s going to happen when she’s sixteen.” I shudder, and Eliza giggles again.

“You’ll be fine. You’re a great dad. And I think that spirit will take her far in life.”

“I hope so.”

We were interrupted by the sound of small feet on the stairs.

“Eliza,” Valentina called. “Would you please read a book to me? I’m very upset with my dad right now, and I don’t want to see his stinky face at the moment.”

Jesus, she was laying it on thick right now. “Go,” I said to Eliza. “I’ll clean up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t keep the queen waiting. Just make sure she brushes her teeth, okay?”

She nodded and headed upstairs, and I might have snuck a quick glance at her ass as she left the kitchen. What could I say, it was looking particularly juicy in her black leggings. And it had been so long since I had felt the spark of attraction, I was honestly impressed I still had it in me.

Eliza came back down thirty minutes later as I was wiping down the counters and packing Val’s lunch.

“That kid drives a hard bargain. She wouldn’t let me leave until I read two chapters.”

I shook my head. “Trust me, you are not the first to bend to her will.”

“I should get going.”

I walked to the mudroom as she grabbed her coat, and I put mine on as well. “I’ll walk you out.”

We headed toward where her car was parked on the street in front of my house.

I opened the garage door and grabbed my flashlight and a gallon of wiper fluid.

“Can you pop the hood?” I asked.

“What are you doing?”

“Just checking your fluids,” I say, with my flashlight between my teeth. As I suspected, her wiper fluid was low, so I topped it off and shut the hood. “I’ll check your tire pressure tomorrow; it’s too dark right now.”

I walked over to where she was standing and eyeing me suspiciously.

“I check my tire pressure regularly.”

“Good girl,” I said without thinking.

Her face flushed and her eyes widened. Clearly she liked being called a good girl. Interesting…and something I would obsess over later, in the privacy of my own room.

The air between us was charged and I hesitated, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry we kept you so late. You probably do interesting things in the evenings.”

“Ha. Not even close. I would probably have watched Netflix and doom scrolled all night.”

“But still, it was so kind of you to stay and hang with us. We are pretty boring.”

“Not at all. I had fun.”

“You’re young. You should be out having fun with your friends.” I paused as her eyes found mine in the dark. “Or your boyfriend.”

She bit her lip. That lip would be my undoing. “No boyfriend,” she said quietly.

I nodded, unsure of what to say and distracted by her bottom lip. I wanted to sink my teeth into it and feel her moan.

“What about you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Girlfriend?”

“Me?” I was flustered. “No. I’m a single dad. Not much time for dating.”

“That’s a shame,” she said. “To waste all of this.” She gestured at my face and chest, and I could feel my cheeks flush. Was she attracted to me? Did she feel what I felt? The overwhelming need to kiss her, to claim her, to make her mine?

She took a step toward me, her eyes gleaming. “Thanks again for dinner.” She placed her hands on my shoulders and stood up on her tiptoes, gently kissing my cheek.

My entire body froze. I was afraid to move, to react, for fear that I would throw her over my shoulder, spank that delicious ass, and take her to bed. I clenched every muscle in my body and tried to force a smile as she got into her car and drove away.

I kicked myself for wasting the moment. She was so close and she smelled so good. But what would I have even said? “Hey, you’re superhot and young, and I’m a dirty old man who hasn’t been laid in years. Wanna get naked?”

It was better that I did nothing and let the moment pass. Because let’s face it, even if, by some miracle of miracles, she was interested, I would last about ten seconds and embarrass the hell out of myself.

I stood on the sidewalk, completely shell-shocked. I would probably never recover from the feel of that woman’s lips on my body. I needed to get my head together. But first, I needed the coldest of cold showers.