They were wearing shorts and shirts with “Lago di Como Sportif” on them and had already packed small matching backpacks. Sabrina had a brief troubling feeling that she wasn’t really needed at all. But of course she was, she assured herself. Someone had to drive the girls to the lake. And in the afternoon she’d be ready to hit the ground running with planned activities and figure out a way to get them to participate.
They looked so cute in their matching outfits, Sabrina had to resist hugging them. Maybe one day…maybe not. They looked her over as she did them, then said “
Buon Giorno.”
They both looked at their matching Mickey Mouse watches much like their father had done before he left for work.
Sabrina was nervous driving the sporty Alfa, but she tried to maintain a calm exterior so the girls wouldn’t guess she wasn’t completely comfortable but was in control which a nanny must always be. They directed her toward the southeastern arm of the lake and she pulled the car into a yacht harbor filled with large expensive luxury boats as well as a fleet of small sail boats.
They jumped out of the car, calling greetings to other
children. They’d explained it was Week Two of this camp, so they knew the other kids and the camp counselors and were warmly greeted by parents as well as adults in charge. Then they told her they’d see her
domani.
“Tomorrow?” she asked, sure she’d misunderstood.
They nodded in unison and ran off to join their friends.
Still puzzled, Sabrina introduced herself as the twins’ new nanny to the tall, tanned young man in charge and thankfully he spoke English. He told her the girls were making great progress in sailing and riding. He said on Friday morning the parents were invited to see what their children were doing in a special demonstration of techniques and a race to be followed by a picnic. Sabrina hoped the prince would be there, as their new nanny she certainly would be.
Feeling like they were in good hands, she waved to the girls who seemed to have forgotten she existed, and determined to return to pick them up even thought they insisted on
domani
, she was on her way to the car when a tanned woman in a tennis outfit and diamond earrings that flashed in the sun stopped her.
“You are a friend of Vittorio?” she asked. Even though her eyes were covered by enormous designer sunglasses, Sabrina could tell the woman was looking her over and checking her out from her leather sandals to her hair which she’d hastily pulled back in a rubber band this morning.
“I am the twins’ new nanny,” Sabrina explained.
“And I am Margarita Fabrizi. I thought the girls were going to boarding school.”
“Yes, that is the plan, but not yet. For now they need a nanny,” Sabrina said, wondering how many times she would repeat this phrase.
“Of course and how fortunate…for them, poor little
orfani
to have a new nanny. We are all wondering when Vittorio will remarry and give them a new mama as well.”
Sabrina smiled and said nothing. Not even “They’re not
orfani
, they have a father.” She wondered if she’d ever meet the mysterious Aurora, their prospective step-mother. She didn’t say she hoped the girls wouldn’t go away to boarding school, because that would be stating her own personal opinion. Something a nanny must never do. Sabrina knew that. She’d learned the hard way. A nanny must stay out of family disputes. A nanny was not entitled to an opinion unless asked. A nanny was temporary. A nanny was not a part of the family no matter how much she felt like one or wanted to be one.
“And how is Vittorio, that gorgeous man?” the woman asked in with a knowing smile.
“Er, fine,” Sabrina said.
“What do you think of his engagement to Aurora Bellasandro?”
“I don’t know. I only arrived yesterday.” She wanted to say her employer’s personal life was of no concern to her. And it wasn’t. But why bother to respond? The best thing to do was to simply ignore the question.
“My Isabella has invited the twins to our house this afternoon and to spend the night. I hope they told you. It has been arranged previously.”
“Really? No, they didn’t. Mr…The prince didn’t say anything to me.”
“No, I don’t suppose he did. He must have forgotten, but I made arrangements with the housekeeper.”
“I see. Very well.”
“I will pick them up here and they can have a swim in our pool and a special dinner. Then I will bring them to the sailing lessons tomorrow.”
Sabrina stepped backward. What was her job if the twins were going to be spending the night with friends? What about their English lessons? What about the preparation for the Academy entrance exam? If the prince knew about this, why hadn’t he mentioned it?
Sabrina was torn. If she didn’t do something with or for the girls, wouldn’t the prince figure it out and send her home?
“Vittorio and I are old friends.” Margarita reached into her purse for a monogrammed note which she pinched between her manicured thumb and forefinger. There was a scrawling message there in Italian and totally unreadable. “This is what he sent me to confirm our arrangements. Just between the two of us, I think he is always happy to get the twins off his hands.”
“Very well.” What else could Sabrina say? After all, it was summer and of course the girls would rather swim with their friend than study English with Sabrina. Maybe the prince had made this arrangement before he knew she was coming. She hoped so. She would have to remind him she needed to know their schedule. Tomorrow they would begin their lessons. Still Sabrina wanted to check with Vittorio, though he’d told her in so many words not to bother him unless it was an emergency.
Driving slowly, she found her way home and heaved a sigh of relief when she returned the Alfa to the five-car garage without incident. But her relief was short-lived.
The maid greeted her at the side door to the high-ceilinged reception room with a note from the prince asking her to call him on his cell phone.
“Ms West,” he said, “I left an important file on my desk which I need today. I would like you to bring it to me."
“Bring it to you, where?”
“To the bank. It’s very simple. And very important. Go to my office and pick up the folder marked Banque Suisse and drive to Milan.”
“What, Milan?” She’d landed in Milan when she arrived but only stayed long enough to catch the train to Varenna. It was Italy’s second city, big and bustling and overwhelming to a foreigner, and she was glad to leave it. Yes, she knew it was the fashion capitol, and a melting pot of people and history, but she’d never ever wanted to go there. Her dreams took her to the south, to the coast and of course to the beautiful lake country.
“You are already familiar with the Audi, are you not?”
After a short drive to the lake? How could she say yes? But how could anyone say no to Vittorio? “I’m familiar with the Audi but not with Milan.”
“It’s not difficult. Turn right at Lecco and drive down the hill to Monza, there get on the autostrada to Milano. You can’t go wrong. Milan has a ring road which you reach via the A/8 Highway. Follow the signs to the Duomo. There you will see the Public Gardens opposite our bank which is an old building with an arched portico made of marble. The only bank of Florentine architecture I am proud to say. It was founded by my great-grandfather and survived two wars. I will have someone outside waiting for you.”
“Shall I give him the folder?”
“No! The man will take the car but you are not to trust the folder to anyone but me. Come up to my office. My secretary will show you the way.”
Sabrina’s hands were shaking. Drive to huge, modern, charmless Milan on when she barely knew her way to the lake? This was a crowded and industrial city miles from the lake. As she passed through it she was glad she wouldn’t have to stay there any longer than to catch her train.
Now she was being asked to drive there and battle the city traffic. This did not sound like a job for a nanny. Still, one of the many nanny rules is to expect the unexpected. And yet another rule is to never say no. So Sabrina only murmured in the affirmative while she wrote the directions fast and furiously on a pad of paper the maid handed her.
“Normally my driver would do this for me,” Vittorio said, “but I gave him some time off this afternoon to visit his sick grandmother and I can’t reach him right now. I’ll expect you in an hour or so. Any questions?”
Questions? She had a million questions. Starting with this… How did I get myself into this? Why can’t someone else do it? I’m here to take care of the girls. Not to be your delivery person. This isn’t in my job description or anywhere in the Nanny Manual.
But all she said was, “No.”
“Pick up the cell phone on my desk so that you can call me if necessary. Otherwise I will expect you shortly.”
The words
Milan is the fashion capitol
kept spinning around in Sabrina’s head as she quickly went through her clothes, now hanging in her closet thanks to the maid, trying to find something suitable for a bank in Milan. It was one thing if she were to drop off a folder and go home. That was presuming she could actually find the bank. But at the least she might have to walk through the Florentine building at the side of her employer while curious eyes watched and evaluated and wondered.
Who is she? How does she fit into the picture?
No time to do anything but put her all-purpose blazer on over her T-shirt and Capri pants. She had more to worry about than her appearance. She had to worry about finding the way to Milan and then driving in the city itself with all those aggressive locals, surely a foreigner’s nightmare. What made Vittorio think she could do it? Why did he trust her to deliver the folder? Why wasn’t he worried about where his daughters were? No time for idle wondering. She found the folder and the cell phone and headed out to the road in the Audi.
She loved the smell of the leather in the custom made car. She loved the smooth handling of the gearshift, but she didn’t love the way she had to clench the steering wheel with white-knuckled fingers, or deal with the constant fear she’d make a wrong turn and end up in Rome. As it happened she made several wrong turns, doubled back and finally found Lecco. Then more wrong turns on the way to Monza. When she saw the signs pointing to Milan she finally took a deep breath and relaxed just for a moment before looking for the ring road and finally the bank.
Vittorio paced back and forth in front of the bank waiting for his new nanny to arrive. Perhaps it was unfair to ask her to drive to the bank with the folder, but he didn’t have a choice. He needed the papers. As soon as she handed them to him she could go back home. On the other hand, with his assistant out sick today, he was in desperate need of someone with a knowledge of power point this afternoon. If her resume really reflected her skills and she really knew what she was talking about. If not, he was in trouble.
There she was. Vittorio didn’t realize how tense he was until he saw the car and he realized she’d actually done it. A foreigner on her second day in the country driving to Milan. He was impressed. He couldn’t think of anyone else who would have even attempted it. Certainly not Aurora. She had her own job to do and wanted nothing to do with his. He didn’t blame her. She was a high-powered executive in the fashion field.
He went to the street and opened the door for Sabrina and handed the car keys to the doorman who would park the car in the underground garage.
“Any problems?” he asked, taking the file in one hand and her elbow in the other to guide her up to stairs to the double doors. He had at first thought of simply taking the papers and sending her on her way, but he had good reasons for bringing her into the bank.