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THE AMANTI HEIR ARRANGEMENT

Kate Hewitt

Chapter One

“I’m sorry, Rose.”

Rose Delaney rested one hand on top of her slight swelling bump as she forced an understanding smile to her lips for her boss, even as her spirits sank right down to her toes.

“It’s all right, Maya.” It wasn’t, not by a long shot, but she knew she had no choice but to accept the grim fact that her job as an art teacher in an elementary school had been axed due to budget cuts. Maya Brown, the school’s principal, had called her into school barely a week after summer had started to give her the unfortunate yet not entirely unexpected news.

And now, while all the other teachers would be gratefully relaxing after a frantic school year, Rose would be unemployed and desperately scouring the want ads with their decidedly limited options. And this when she was four months pregnant and needed to save as much money as she could before she took maternity leave. It was enough to make the smile slip from her lips as the reality of her predicament washed over her and her stomach hollowed out. What on earth was she going to do?

“I really wish there was another way,” Maya told her with a shake of her head. “But we’re cutting as many corners as we can already, and you know we have to prioritize core subjects.”

“Yes, of course.” Subjects like art and music were often the first to be cut in a financially pressed school. Rose knew she’d been lucky to have the job for as long as she had—four years of loving what she did and barely scraping by. It had been worth it, if only just, from a financial perspective, at least.

Still, Rose was determined to be positive. Life had thrown her some pretty hard punches over the years, but she’d taken them on the chin and kept smiling, and she would do so again, especially now she had someone else to think about. Once again, her hand crept to the barely there bump, fingers spreading wide, seeking strength from the life nestled within. Her baby. Her family. As long as she had this little one, she’d be okay. She’d make sure of it.

“Really, it’s fine,” she told Maya, doing her best to inject a firm note of cheerfulness into her voice. “I’ll find something else. This might be a good opportunity to work on my gallery showing.” The nonexistent one she’d been dreaming about for years. She widened her smile as she continued, “Really, Maya, it’s an opportunity. I should be thanking you.”

“Oh, Rose.” Maya shook her head, looking almost near tears. “You’ve always had such a good attitude about everything.” She smiled and reached over to touch her hand. “And especially with a little one to consider…” She nodded toward Rose’s middle. “I know it can’t be easy, and I really do appreciate your understanding. Thank you.”

A good attitude, Rose reflected on a silent sigh, was all she had, but at least it was hers. Her response to life’s struggles and tragedies was just about the only thing she could control, the one thing that made her feel strong, even if she’d felt anything but inside.

And so she’d chosen optimism whenever she could, even when it didn’t make sense. Even when life had sent her one body blow after another—her parents’ deaths, her aunt’s rejection, the years of loneliness when she’d kept striding forward, smiling, because it felt like the only choice she had.

And yet…a smile wasn’t going to pay her rent. Who was going to want to hire a pregnant woman when she was about to go on maternity leave? She couldn’t think of anyone off the top of her head, that was for certain.

“You’ve been such an asset to this school,” Maya continued warmly. “The children all love you, and your ideas are so creative. Really, I’m sorry.” The older woman shook her head again before passing an envelope across the desk. “Please, take this as a sign of our gratitude here at PS 106. And good luck.”

“Thank you,” Rose murmured. She didn’t open the envelope, but it felt like a gift card, which was very kind, but at this point she could have used cold hard cash more. Still, it was a nice gesture, and one she genuinely appreciated. After a few more pleasantries, Rose said her goodbyes and then stepped out of PS 106 into the summer sunshine, narrowing her eyes against the glare coming off the city sidewalks as she thought about what to do next.

New York City in a sweltering heat wave was bad enough, but pregnant it was nearly unbearable. She plucked her cotton sundress from where it was sticking between her shoulder blades as she mentally reviewed the state of her bank account, which was just enough to tide her over till fall, but not much more. With a baby on the way, Rose knew she needed money, and soon. And what about health insurance? She couldn’t afford to see her obstetrician without it. She felt her stomach dip as she considered the dire state of her predicament. This had been a really, really bad time to get fired.

A sliver of doubt burrowed deep as she started walking toward home. She’d made quite a few reckless decisions in her life, determined not to let the hard knocks keep her down, but having a baby on her own when she had little money and even less support was probably up there with the most foolhardy. That along with moving to New York City to follow an artistic dream and chasing it fruitlessly for four years. She’d arrived right after college still grieving the loss of her parents, her life, and feeling so very alone…which had, Rose acknowledged wryly, led her to this decision. Going it alone as a single mother so she could finally have a family to call her own. Someone to love, and who would love her back, because that’s what families did. At least, that’s what they were supposed to do.

She pressed one hand to her middle. She could not, would not regret choosing to have this baby. Ever.

Still, a sigh escaped her, and then she straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin and marched on. She would figure this out, just as she’d figured out every problem that had come barreling her way since her parents’ sudden deaths when she was just seventeen. She was a survivor, and her baby would be a survivor, too. More importantly, together they’d be a family, which made it all worth it. It had to.

As she waited for the traffic light to turn, Rose slipped the card out of the envelope. Twenty-five dollars to an upscale local café and bakery, one that was far too expensive for her budget. She let out a little laugh and then decided she might as well make the most of it. She’d go over there right now and order a large mocha and the hugest slab of cake she could find and celebrate the fact that she was still standing. Who knew, maybe the sugar and caffeine rush would help her figure out what she was going to do, because the truth was, she was running out of ideas.

* * *

“Stop here.”

Christos Amanti’s golden eyes narrowed as, from the back of his limousine, he watched the woman march into what looked like an upscale and frankly frivolous coffee shop. The chalkboard menu outside advertised something called Cocoa Coma Cake. A ridiculous name for what was likely to be an even more ridiculous dessert.

His lips thinned as he lost sight of her in the café. Cornering Rose Delaney in a public café was far from ideal, but Christos was losing patience. He’d been in New York for the last forty-eight hours, trying to glean more information about the woman who unknowingly held the fate and fortune of his family in the palm of her hand—or really, in the gentle swell of her belly. From the private investigator he’d hired, he’d learned that Rose Delaney was twenty-seven, worked as an art teacher, and was single.

From his time observing her, he’d learned that she gave money to the homeless man on the corner of her street every morning, and she always chatted with the bus driver, long enough to annoy the passengers behind her who were waiting to board. He knew she wore ridiculous outfits, colorful and floaty and far from appropriate for work, and that she had an absurd amount of hair, golden-brown and tumbling well past her waist.

She seemed, Christos had decided as he’d followed her to the café in his car, like far too much of a free spirit, strolling down the street with a whimsical smile and stars in her eyes and all that hair.

Somehow, she’d reminded him of Luca.

For a second, pain flashed through him, a lightning streak of grief and guilt that he braced himself against before it thankfully retreated, leaving his mind as coldly focused as it had been before. Rose Delaney might share his younger brother’s whimsical, carefree nature, but she was still a stranger. A stranger who would bend to his will, because she had to, for the sake of his family.