Million Dollar Christmas Proposal

PROLOGUE

EYES DRY, HEART shattered, Audrey Miller sat in the chair beside her baby brother’s hospital bed and prayed for him to wake up.

He’d been in a coma since the ambulance brought him in three days ago and she wasn’t leaving him. She wasn’t letting go of him. Not like their parents had done.

Not like their two older siblings had.

How could family act like strangers? Worse than strangers? The rest of the Miller clan had cruelly rejected the incredibly sweet, scary-smart twelve-year-old boy. All because he’d told their parents he was gay.

He was twelve, for heaven’s sake. What difference did it make?

But when he’d refused to recant his words, had insisted it wasn’t some kind of phase or confusion despite his tender years, their parents had kicked him out.

Audrey couldn’t even imagine it. She wouldn’t have known what do at that age, alone and homeless. Toby had, though.

With nothing more than his saved-up allowance, his laptop, and a backpack full of clothes, he’d made his way south the two hundred miles from Boston to New York.

He hadn’t called ahead, hadn’t questioned. He’d just come to Audrey. He’d trusted her to be there for him when the rest of the family wasn’t and she would never betray that trust.

Audrey hadn’t thought it could get any worse than her parents kicking Toby out, had been sure that given time to consider their actions they would change their minds and let him move back home. They lived in one of the most progressive cities in the country, for goodness’ sake.

But Carol and Randall Miller were not progressive people. She just hadn’t realized how very steeped in narrow-minded conservatism they were.

Not until they gave her an ultimatum: remain a member in good standing with the rest of the family or stick by Toby. They’d made it clear that if she stuck by her litt

le brother and supported him in any way they would withdraw all financial support and cut off all contact with Audrey.

Their plan to scare both of their youngest children into compliance with their strict viewpoint of the world had backfired.

Audrey had refused and when Toby had learned what that cost her, he’d tried to kill himself. Toby had used the Swiss Army knife their father had given him for his twelfth birthday to cut his wrists.

It hadn’t been a cry for help; it had been a testament to his utter wretchedness at their parents’ total rejection. He did it when the house she shared with three other Barnard students was supposed to be empty for several hours.

If Audrey’s roommate hadn’t forgotten a paper she had to turn in and gone back to the house, if Liz hadn’t investigated the running shower when Toby hadn’t answered her call, he would have died there, his blood washing down the drain of their old-fashioned porcelain tub.

“I love you, Toby. You have to come back to me. You’re a good person.” And she would tell him that as many times as it took. “Come back. Please, Toby. I love you.”

Toby’s eyelids fluttered and then a dazed brown gaze met hers. “Audrey?”

“Yes. Sweetheart. I’m here.”

“I…” He looked confused.

She leaned over the bed and kissed his forehead. “You listen to me, Tobias Daniel Miller. You are my family. The only one that counts. Don’t you ever try to leave me again.”

“If I wasn’t here you’d be okay with Mom and Dad.”

“I’d rather have you,” she promised.

“No, I—”

“Stop. I mean it, Tobe. You’re my brother and I love you. You know how much it hurts that Mom and Dad don’t love us because we aren’t exactly what they want us to be?”

His mouth twisted with pain, his dark eyes haunted. “Yes.”

“Times that by a million and then you’ll know how much I’d hurt if I lost you. Okay?”

Then she saw something in her little brother’s eyes that she would do anything to keep there. A spark of hope amidst the desolation.

“Okay.”

It was a promise. Toby wouldn’t give up on himself again and neither would Audrey. Not ever.

CHAPTER ONE

“YOU WANT ME to find you a wife? You cannot be serious!”

Vincenzo Angilu Tomasi waited for his personal administrative assistant to close her mouth and stop making sounds like a dying fish gasping for water. He’d never heard her talk in exclamation points, hadn’t been sure she was capable of raising her voice, even.

Fifteen years his senior, and usually unflappably confident, Gloria had been with him since he took over at the NY branch of Tomasi Commercial Bank more than a decade ago.

Enzu had never seen this side of her. Had not believed it existed and would be quite happy to put it behind them now.

When she didn’t seem inclined to add anything to her shocked outburst, he corrected, “I will provide these children with a mama.”

Although he was third generation Sicilian in this country, he still gave the old-world accented pronunciation to the word.

His niece, Franca, was only four years old and his nephew, Angilu, a mere eight months. They needed parents, not uninterested caretakers. They needed a mother.

One who would see them raised in a stable environment unlike what he had known as a child or had been able to provide for his younger brother. Which, yes, would mean the woman would have to become his wife as well, but that was of negligible consideration.

“You can’t possibly expect me to find them that. It’s impossible.” Outrage evident in every line of her body, shock dominated Gloria’s usually placid-whatever-the-circumstances expression. “I know my job description is more elastic than most, but this is beyond even my purview.”

“I assure you I have never been more serious and I refuse to believe anything is beyond your capabilities.”

“What about a nanny?” Gloria demanded, clearly unimpressed with the compliment to her skills. “Wouldn’t that be a better solution to this unfortunate situation?”

“I do not consider my custody of my niece and nephew an unfortunate situation,” Enzu told her, his tone cold.

“No. No. Of course not. I apologize for my wording.” But Gloria did not look like she had an alternative description to offer.

In fact, once again, she seemed to be struck entirely speechless.

“I have fired four nannies since I took custody of Franca and Angilu six months ago.” And the current caretaker was not looking to last much longer. “They need a mama. Someone who will put their welfare ahead of everything else. Someone who will love them.”

He had no personal experience with that type of parenting, but he’d spent enough time in Sicily with his family over there. He knew what it was supposed to look like.

“You can’t buy love, sir! You just can’t.”

“I think you will find, Gloria, that indeed I can.” Bank President and CEO, the driving force behind its expansion from a regional financial institution to a truly international one and founder of his own Tomasi Enterprises, Enzu was one of wealthiest men in the world.

“Mr. Tomasi—”

“She will have to be educated,” Enzu said, interrupting further ranting on his assistant’s part. “A bachelor’s degree at least, but not a PhD.”

He didn’t want someone who was driven to excel academically at that level. Her primary focus would not be on the children but her academic pursuits.

“No doctors?” Gloria asked faintly.

“They hardly keep hours conducive to maintaining the role of primary caregiver for the children. Franca is four, but Angilu is less than a year old and far from being school age.”

“I see.”

“It goes without saying the candidates cannot have any kind of criminal record; I would prefer they be currently employed in an appropriate job. Though the woman I choose will give up her current job in order to care for the children full time.”

“Naturally.” Sarcasm dripped from Gloria’s tone.

That, at least, he was used to.

“Yes, well, no candidate should be younger than twenty-five and no older than her mid-thirties.” She would have to be his wife as well.

“That narrows down the pool significantly.”

Enzu chose to ignore his assistant’s mocking words. “Previous experience with children would be preferred, but is not absolutely necessary.”

He did realize it was unlikely an educated woman in a career now, unless it was one related to children, would have experience with them.

“Oh, and while I will not immediately rule out someone who has been married previously, she cannot have her own children that would compete with Franca and Angilu for attention.”

Franca had experienced enough of that sort of neglect and Enzu was determined she never would again.

“The candidates should be passable in the looks department, if not pretty, but definitely no super-model types.”

The children had already been subjected to the beautiful but vain and entirely empty-headed Johana as mother and stepmother.

His brother Pinu’s taste in women, from his first serious affair, which had resulted in Franca and a mother who had been only too happy to walk away once Enzu met her financial demands, to the wife who had died with him in the crash, had been inarguably abysmal.

This time around Enzu would be choosing the woman and he was confident he could make a far superior decision to the ones Pinu had made in that department.

Gloria did not reply to Enzu’s completed list of requirements, so he went on to enumerate the compensation package he’d worked out for the successful candidate.

“There will be both financial and social benefits for the woman taking on this new role. Once both children have reached their majority without significant critical issues,” he emphasized, “the mother will receive a stipend of ten million dollars. Each year she successfully executes her maternal duties

she will receive a salary of $250,000 paid in monthly installments. She will receive an additional monthly allowance to cover all reasonable household and living expenses for her and the children.”

“You really are prepared to buy them a mother?” Gloria was back to looking gobsmacked.

“Sì.” Hadn’t he said so?

“Ten million dollars? Really?”

“As I said, the bonus is dependent on both children reaching their majority without going off the rails. It will be paid when Angilu turns eighteen. But if one of the children chooses to follow in my brother’s footsteps, she will still receive half for the successful raising of the other one.”

He did realize there was a certain amount of self-will in the path a person chose to take in life. He and his brothers couldn’t have been more different, though they’d been raised in almost identical circumstances.

“And she will be your wife as well?”

“Sì. In name at least.” For the sake of Franca and Angilu’s sense of family and stability.

Gloria stood, indicating she was ready to return to her work. “I will see what I can do.”

“I have every confidence in your success.”

She did not look reassured.

*

Well, that could have gone better.

Audrey brushed impatiently at the tears that wanted to fall. When had crying ever made a difference?

Neither her tears nor those of her then twelve-year-old brother had made a difference to Carol and Randall Miller. Pleading had only been met with disgusted impatience and implacable resolve unhindered by any emotion, much less love.

Maybe she should have waited a few weeks until Christmas and asked then. Weren’t people supposed to be filled with charity during the Christmas season? Somehow she didn’t think it would make any difference to her parents.

Audrey should have known they weren’t going to change their minds now. She’d been an idiot to think that Toby being accepted into the prestigious Engineering School’s Bachelor of Science program at MIT would make a difference.