Boyfriend for Hire (8 page)

Tawny pushed out the back door and headed for the long picnic table that could seat all ten of them. The men sat in a circle discussing baseball while poor Alex chased after Tomas, trying to dry him off.

Man, for only being two years old, he could haul.

Baby Sofia sat in her swing, giggling at the antics of her brother. The older boys, Georgie and Danny, were both still playing in the small pool. Heading over, Tawny grabbed two towels, snapped her fingers, and pointed to the spot in front of her. Both grumbled, but neither took their time getting out.

Seemed Tawny had a bit of her mom in her after all, which scared the bejeebers out of her. A small step in the wrong direction and good-bye career, hello pregnant and slaving away in the kitchen. No identity left, simply so-and-so’s mom or wife. Kill her now.

Motherhood was fine. Her mom or Alex, they were naturals. Always knew what to do, what to say to break up a fight or calm a crying child. They could juggle a dozen and half tasks at one time without breaking a sweat. They adored being Mrs. Jorge/George Torres, letting their husbands make all the decisions, or so they said.

Granted, letting someone else deal with a clogged toilet once in a while sounded like heaven, but not at the cost of losing herself.

Quickly Tawny dried off both boys and sent them to jump on their
abuelo
’s lap, wet suits and all. Tawny headed back in for the rest of the table settings. Before she hit the step a peal of laughter rang through the air, along with the confession that Tía Tawny made them do it.

Stoolpigeons.

Mama stood in the middle of the kitchen eyeing the food. She was probably trying to decide if she’d made enough, which she had if they were feeding a small country. Tawny dropped a kiss on her mother’s cheek, hoisted the tray laden with food, and headed back out the door.

She’d no sooner got out the door than all the men moved from their man-circle to the table and sat waiting for her. You’d think one of the Neanderthals could have taken the heavy tray for her. Nope, not the cavemen in her family.

Her father sat at the head of the table, with George on one side and Mateo on the other. Danny and Tomas were sandwiched between their parents, and Baby Sofia sat in her high chair at the other end. Next to Mateo their mother would sit, then Georgie and finally Tawny across from Alex. Had Dante been home, he would have sat next to their father. It was all very medieval when you really thought about it.

Tawny and her mother dished out the food and ran back and forth for forgotten items while Alex took care of the children. It was loud, chaotic, and normal.

The men talked about manly stuff, never once bringing or even trying to bring the women into the conversation. Fine by her, she was too busy trying to convince Georgie to eat his beans and dodging bits of unrecognizable flying food from her niece.

Note to self: strike “have kids” from life plan
.

“Tawny, how’s work going? Did your new boss announce your promotion yet?” Her father’s words sank her food to the bottom of her stomach faster than a speeding torpedo. There was no way she could tell them what had really happened, not unless she wanted to see her father or one of her brothers in an orange jumpsuit.

The rest of the table had gone unnaturally quiet. Alex busied herself with the children on either side of her. George looked skyward and Mateo, her protector, stared, totally fascinated with his plate. Mama didn’t say a word, simply kept eating.

“It’s, uh, you know, work. Keeping me busy.” Man, she hated lying to her family, but they wouldn’t understand. They never understood her desire to have a career, to support herself and be independent, and they sure wouldn’t understand her not reporting her boss’s actions and quitting.

Her father tapped the tips of his fingers against each other, eyes locked with hers. “I stopped in yesterday. I didn’t see your name plate on your desk.” He continued tapping his fingers. “Nor did I see it on any doors.”

Oh, crap
.

Alex stood, scooped up the baby, and grabbed Tomas’s hand. “Boys, let’s go inside and clean up. It’s time for you to settle down for the night.”

“Well, see the thing is—”

“You lied,” her father said.

“I di—”

“Tawny Maria-Isabella, you sat there and told me work was keeping you busy. Work is not keeping you busy. You haven’t worked at the bank in three weeks. Your friend Emma told me.”

Thanks, Emma.
Not that it was her fault. She hadn’t known Tawny would keep important information from her family.

“I didn’t lie, I said it was keeping me busy and it is, job hunting.” Damn it, now she was on the defensive, and there was no reason for it. She wasn’t a sixteen year-old kid or even fresh out of college anymore. At twenty-eight, she lived her life her way and should not have to answer to her parents.

Maybe that was how it worked for other people and for her in her dreams, but it wasn’t how it worked in this family. They meant well, she knew it in her heart, but they didn’t question her brothers’ decisions. Why must they question hers? If only she’d been offered the job at NE Event Solutions today.

“Tawny, why didn’t you tell us? You could work at the restaurant,” George offered.

If she answered truthfully, that she’d rather live on Top Ramen than depend on her big brother to save her, she’d be banned for life from his restaurant. She might not want to work there, but eating was a whole other story.

“Thanks, George.” She shot him a quick smile. “But waitressing won’t pay my rent.”

“You should move home.” Her mother finally spoke, voice soft yet firm.

She kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thanks, Mama, but I’ll find another job. I’ll be fine. I didn’t get fired for any wrongdoing. The economy hit the bank, that’s all. They had to let someone go and, well, while I had seniority, Mark has a family to support.” The looks on her family’s faces said they thought she was full of it. “Trust me, with my degree and experience, I’ll be back to work in no time.”

“It’s been three weeks, how are you going to pay your bills?” her father asked, his voice as gruff as a papa bear’s.

“Come work at the restaurant,” George said.

“I can probably hook you up with a job in Boston.” Mateo gave her a supporting grin. “You can bunk with me, I’ve got room.”

“She is not moving to Boston. She will move here, home,” Mama said. “If you concentrated on finding a husband, you wouldn’t have to worry about finding a job.”

And there it was, the lack of faith her family had in her to know what she was doing and that she could take care of herself.

Looking skyward, she prayed for tempered words . . . and patience. “Dad, I have a finance degree. I know to put money away for this type of situation. George, I am never working for you. That would be as bad as moving home.” Oops. The words were no sooner out of her mouth than her brain clicked on and she realized what she’d said.

“What’s wrong with our house? It was good enough to raise you kids in, but it’s not good enough for you now?”

Her father’s words cut deep. She didn’t mean it the way it sounded, snide and unappreciative of the sacrifices they made for their children. Her father’s face flushed with anger. His eyes darkened with sorrow.

“Dad, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. You and Mama gave us a wonderful, beautiful home filled with love.” Tawny’s heart clenched at the disappointment written on her father’s face. “If I move home, I failed as the person you raised me to be. You both taught all of us kids to be strong and independent and to go after our dreams. Moving home means I gave up on my dreams. You don’t expect Mateo or Dante to ever move home, why me?”

Her mother stood, gathered up the dirty dishes, and looked at her. “It’s different, they are men.”

Her mother stalked off, letting the screen door slam behind her. Her father shook his head and followed. No matter what she did, she’d always come up short in their eyes. Choosing to celebrate their sons’ successes while ignoring hers. Even knowing the attempt was futile, knowing no matter how hard she worked, how high she climbed in business, none of it would impress her parents. Until she announced she was engaged, they wouldn’t be happy with her. She should give up, save herself the heartache, if only it was in her to quit. The incident three weeks ago had been the first ever where she’d done so, and she didn’t plan to repeat the action ever again.

George stood, gaze trained on the house. A sigh escaped and he turned to Tawny. “Look, I know what you meant, but try to see their side, okay? And yeah, I get it. Working for your big brother is not in your life plan. Still, the job’s there when and if you need it.” As he passed, he reached over and ruffled Tawny’s hair like he used to do when she was a teen getting ready to go out on a date. “I’m going to go see if Alex needs help with the kids.”

She waited until George had entered the house before turning to the last man sitting—Mateo. “Are you mad at me too?”

“Heck no.” Mateo scooted closer and slung an arm around Tawny. “We all have secrets, sis, especially ones we keep from Mike and Carol there.”

“Who?”

“Mike and Carol Brady, the last of the perfect parents of the perfect children.”

“I always pictured Ward and June Cleaver from the fifties with a dash of George Lopez thrown in for Dad.”

“Who ever they are, we’re stuck with them. Any prospects yet?”

Tawny dropped her head down on her arms. “Are you referring to work or my social life? The answer would be maybe on the first, and no on the second. If I don’t find something soon, I may take you up on your offer and move to Boston. Although then you’d be in hot water with the parentals, as it would be all your fault for me moving away.” She thought about telling Matty about the interview, but seriously, the way things had been going she’d probably end up jinxing herself.

“I can handle it. I’m still in the doghouse for living an hour from home.” His voice changed from the playful banter earlier to one filled with melancholy.

Tawny bumped his shoulder with her own, getting his attention. “Hey, what’s the matter? You don’t really think they’re mad at you, do you? They’re always bragging to their friends about their son the computer forensic expert and how you’ve helped the police and all these huge corporations. You’re right up there with Dante the Navy hero and George, he’s so smart and talented. Owns his own restaurant in the heart of Federal Hill.” She did a perfect imitation of her mother, making Mateo laugh.

“I have secrets too, and if Mom and Dad knew, they wouldn’t be bragging.”

“So don’t tell them.”

“I think they’re going to find out soon.”

“Ah, but not before you tell your favorite sister, right?” She tickled him in the ribs, trying to get him to lighten up. Nothing could be as bad as it sounded.

“Oh right, let me go tell Alex first.” He held out his hands to fend off the playful slap Tawny gave him. “Okay, okay, I met someone. Someone special.”

“So what’s his name, and tell me all about him.”

Mateo turned sharply toward her, knocking her balance off. If she hadn’t grabbed the table she would have gone over backward and landed on her duff.

“You know?”

Now it was Tawny’s turn to hug him. “Matty, I’ve always known, and so do George and Dante. I think Mom and Dad suspect, but either way, they’ll still love you. They only want you to be happy and successful in life. Unlike me, who they want to be married off and dependent on some other person for my success and happiness.”

“His name is Alistair Hollingsberry. He’s British and blond and he makes me ecstatic,” Matty murmured as he gazed off in the distance, a dreamy smile that said he’d rather be with his Brit than dealing with family drama.

She gave him a huge hug, crushing her brother. “I’m so happy for you, Matty.” Sitting back, she looked him over carefully. The guy didn’t have a tense muscle in his body, no stress lines, no dark circles. He positively glowed. “See, that’s what I want. When the time is right. I want a guy who makes me glow.”

“Well, baby sis, the way I hear it, Mom has found Mr. Perfect for you. His name is Ivan. And that drama scene bought you some time, because I heard her and Alex talking. Mom’s not going to stop nagging you until you agree to go out with him.”

“Ivan, as in ‘the Terrible’?”

“Uh-huh. Have to admit, my mind went straight to Russian Mafia.”

He was joking. Right? Her mom wouldn’t set her up with some gangster dude, would she?
Dios
. This was her mother they were talking about. The woman wore three-inch-thick rose-colored glasses and refused to believe the world had changed in the last fifty years.

Tawny knew too that there would be no getting out of the date, not after her earlier blunder.

Maybe he’d be like Ilya from Christine Feehan’s Sea Haven series. Now that was one sexy Russian mob hit man.

Ivan and Tawny.

Tawny and Ivan.

Nope, she just didn’t see it.

Chapter Six

T
here had to be at least twenty bucks’ worth of coins at the bottom of the fountain, and for the life of her, Tawny couldn’t figure out why anyone would waste their hard-earned cash on a superstition. Granted, not all of the coins came from one person, and most people only threw in one, or two at the most. Still, what a waste.

“What would you wish for? You know, if you believed in miracles.”

She turned around to greet Cherry. “The usual—win the lottery, be swept away by a knight on a white horse, that the pound of fudge I ate won’t make the scale go up.”

Cherry linked arms with her and smiled. “Who’s to say it can’t happen, well, except for the fudge part. Mine came true.” Cherry looked around the crowded Piazza di Amore, changing the subject before Tawny could present the logical reasons her so-called wish came true. “So, what’s new?”

They made their way around the crowded plaza, weaving in and out of shoppers, diners, and tourists. “I got an invitation to the
Finding Mr. Right
cast reunion party.”

“You turned down the last one. Are you going to go this time?”