nanny had the nerve to look innocent. “It’s never too early to learn good skills in the singles world.”
“You’re fired.”
Her eyes went saucer wide. “What?”
“You heard me. Get your things and get out of here. I’ll send your final check to the agency.”
“It’s after midnight.”
Drew realized that was true, and he couldn’t very well put her out in the streets this time of night. “Then I want you out first thing in the morning. I’ll have my company driver pick you up and take you wherever you want to go.”
“Please, Mr. Connelly,” she pleaded. “I can’t go live with my mother again. She’ll drive me crazy.”
Drew was already halfway there so she might as well join him. “I’m sorry, Ms. Randles, but that’s your problem. You should have thought about that when you turned my daughter loose on the Internet.” And subsequently his grandmother.
He spun around and headed back up the stairs, leaving the nanny alone with her mouth gaping. In the hallway, he headed toward Amanda’s room to make sure she was still in bed where he’d left her a few moments before.
While he’d tucked her in bed, he’d told his daughter that no matter what transpired between him and the mysterious Kristina the following morning, the circumstances behind their meeting—the e-mails and his grandmother’s scheming—shouldn’t be revealed because he didn’t want to hurt the lady’s feelings. And Drew sincerely didn’t want to do that regardless of the fact he knew nothing about her. As far as he was concerned, Kristina Simmons had been an innocent victim in this whole bizarre mess.
Mandy had assured Drew they would keep it “their own little secret” and promised she wouldn’t say anything to “hurt her Kristina’s feelings.” Drew felt somewhat satisfied, yet he couldn’t trust that Mandy wouldn’t innocently spill the beans. All the more reason to find some way to gently tell Kristina the truth, then send her on her way.
Through the partially open door of Mandy’s room, Drew found her asleep, her angelic face turned toward him, her eyes closed against the hall light. She looked like a pint-size princess—like her mother. He certainly didn’t need to think about her now.
In his room, Drew collapsed onto the bed and grabbed the phone, hitting the speed dial. One task down, one to go.
“H’lo.”
“Grandfather, it’s Drew. Is Grandmother there?”
“Good grief, son, do you know what time it is?”
“I know, but this can’t wait.”
“Is something wrong?”
Oh, yeah, thanks to thoroughly meddling Lilly. “I just need to talk to her. Is she asleep?”
“No. She’s in the other room watching late-night talk shows. The ones that turn into a free-for-all.”
Not surprising to Drew. Lilly was into high drama. “Can you get her for me?”
“Certainly, son. Lilly, it’s Drew!”
Drew held the phone away, fearing his grandfather’s booming voice might burst an eardrum. That would be all he needed tonight.
“Hello, Drew,” Lilly said in her sweet-as-sugar voice that indicated she was up to no good. “Did you have a nice trip?”
“Did you have fun playing on my computer?”
“Oh, yes, dear. That Amanda is quite a little whiz—”
“Cut the crap, Grandmother.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I know what you’ve done.”
“Now, simmer down, young man. I’ve done you a favor.”
“A favor?” Drew’s ears began to burn and ring simultaneously. “Did you really think I’d want you setting me up with some woman I don’t even know? I’m not interested in going on a blind date!”
“It’s not a date, dear.”
“Call it what you will, but I don’t enjoy the thought of some stranger showing up at my doorstep expecting to meet me in the morning after I’ve been up most of the night.”
“She won’t be there to meet you.”
“Stop talking in riddles, Lilly.”
“She’ll be there to move in with you.”
His arrival from Europe into the Twilight Zone was now complete. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. For your information, you’ve been e-mailing her for the month you were away. So has Amanda. Her name is Kristina Simmons—a nice name, don’t you think?”
Nothing about this was nice. “Dammit, Lilly, this is insane!”
“Don’t curse me, young man.”
He cursed the fact that he’d come home to find this mess. “Just what do you really know about her?”
“She seems to be a very cordial—”
“Cordial? What if she’s a criminal, for God’s sake? How could you invite some stranger into my home?”
“Stop interrupting and I will provide all the details necessary for you to give her a proper welcome.” Lilly paused to catch a breath. “I’ve had her checked out thoroughly, and she’s a model citizen, as I suspected from her correspondence. Amanda helped me write all the e-mails. Very harmless, really. And of course, you’ve recently proposed, the only fitting thing to do with a child in the house and your reputation at stake. It will be a trial engagement of a month, and after that time, if all goes well—which it will—you will make the wedding plans. Kristina need never know the truth.”
This was so absurd. So surreal. So Lilly. “Grandmother, I don’t know what century you think this is, but arranged marriages went out with potbellied stoves.”
“This is for your own good, Drew. For Amanda’s own good. I can no longer stand by and watch your child being raised by a succession of hapless nannies while you travel about the world and date floozies who only want to get into your pants as well as your pocketbook.”
Nothing Lilly had done to this point shocked Drew more than her current scheme, and her low opinion of his social life. Didn’t she realize how much he hated leaving Amanda because his job demanded he spend time out of the country? Hated the whole dating scene because not one woman measured up to his ideal, both as a wife for him and mother for his child? Hated that his grandmother saw fit to remedy that situation by finding him a bride? “You can’t play me like this, Grandmother.”
“I already have, my beloved, lonely grandson. And being the gentleman that you are, you will welcome this woman with open arms and give her a chance.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You will have to answer to me, a fate worse than hell.”
With that the line went dead, but Drew’s temper was alive and well, hovering close to the boiling point.
What was he going to do now? Hope that the mysterious Kristina wouldn’t show up? That she’d bow out graciously, maybe even laugh once she learned this was some stunt executed by a matchmaking matriarch? One way or the other, he would let her know point-blank that this whole setup was one huge mistake.
Sitting in her car at the curb in front of Drew Connelly’s impressive Chicago residence, Kristina Simmons was beginning to wonder if she’d made a colossal mistake.
When her friend Tori had proposed putting Kristina’s profile and photo on the singles site, Kristina had balked. Despite her objections, and without her knowledge, Tori had put them up anyway. Then came