Текст книги "Playing the Player"
Автор книги: Lisa Brown Roberts
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The Good Girl Vs. The Player
Round one begins…
Trina Clemons needed the money. Why else would she—the most organized, prepared student in school—spend the summer as a nanny and partner with the biggest slacker ever? Now she’s ready to tackle nannyhood with her big binder of research and schedules. Just don’t ask her about the secret job of “fixing” the bad habits of a certain high school player…
Slade Edmunds prefers easy hook-ups, and Trina is definitely not his type. She’s all structure and rules, while Slade wants to just have fun. Fortunately, Trina has no idea about the bet Slade made with his best friend that he can totally get her to unwind by the end of summer…
Then the weirdest thing happens. There’s chemistry. A lot of it. But nothing gets between a boy and a girl like a big, fat secret…
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Lisa Brown Roberts…
How (not) to Fall in Love
Discover more of Entangled Teen Crush’s books…
Blackmail Boyfriend
The Truth About Jack
Finding Perfect
Aimee and the Heartthrob
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Lisa Brown Roberts. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Entangled Publishing, LLC
2614 South Timberline Road
Suite 109
Fort Collins, CO 80525
Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.
Crush is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
Edited by Liz Pelletier
Cover design by Kelley York
Cover art from Shutterstock
ISBN 978-1-63375-224-5
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition August 2015
For party boys and good girls everywhere. May you dare to look below the surface…
Chapter One
Trina
Friday, May 31
“Trina, just think about it,” said Mrs. Gonzalez. “You’ll still be the supervising nanny for the kids. Slade will be your…apprentice nanny.”
I swallowed quickly, almost choking on the white chocolate cookie crumbs. I hardly ever disagreed with adults, but we were talking serious responsibilities: taking care of two vulnerable five-year-olds for the summer. No way should Slade Edmunds be entrusted with their care. I had to stand my ground.
I took a breath then spoke. “But if it’s like that apprentice TV show, I get to fire him if he doesn’t work out, right?”
Dr. Edmunds studied me. She was the apprentice nanny’s mom, and a psychiatrist. No doubt she was analyzing me, trying to figure out how to sway me over to her side.
“Trina,” Dr. Edmunds said, “I understand if you have a few reservations about working with my son. I know Slade has…um…a…go-with-the-flow personality.”
I snorted. Go with the flow? That was the understatement of the century. Slade was the original slacker, right down to his pathetic fashion sense, living in old T-shirts, faded shorts, and flip-flops. He even tied back his shoulder-length hair with a shoelace, which most girls thought was all grungy sexy.
Not that his wardrobe or messy hair hindered his social life. He was one of the most popular guys in school. Everyone loved him. Jocks, stoners, honor kids, geeks, GSA, NRA. Teachers, too, even when he totally screwed off in class. They fell for some sort of charm that everyone saw.
Everyone but me.
“Trina, sweetheart, let’s discuss this rationally.” Mrs. Forrester poured me a glass of iced tea, with mint leaves frozen in the ice cubes.
Curse these desperate housewives and their Food Network tactics.
It was hard to resist Mrs. Forrester. I’d babysat her daughter, Gillian, since she was two years old. Gillian was a total spaz, but I loved her. I was looking forward to nannying her and her preschool BFF Max Gonzalez, even though they were nothing alike.
He’s all, “Ew! Gross. I hate dirt. I hate swinging. I’m dizzy. Let’s go home.” And she’s all, “Woo hoo! Let’s go down the slide backward and chase the geese into the pond and wear our lunch boxes on our heads!” Maybe it was true about opposites attracting, at least in preschool.
“I’m prepared to offer you an increase in your salary if you’ll go along with this idea, Trina.” Dr. Edmunds’s gray eyes locked onto mine.
Wait, what? Extra salary?
She kept her gaze focused on me, and it occurred to me that Slade must have gotten his legendary topaz eyes from his dad. Apparently when Slade activated their golden power, half the girls in my school willingly peeled off their panties. It would take a lot more than gorgeous eyes to get me out of my underwear.
But what had his mom just said about money? As in, a raise? I reached for a snicker doodle. These moms could pry state secrets out of James Bond with their awesome cookies.
Dr. Edmunds massaged her forehead. She suddenly didn’t seem as intimidating as when I’d first met her. The other moms watched her sympathetically, and I felt a twinge of guilt for asking if I could fire Slade if he didn’t work out.
“So maybe you can explain exactly what you want me to do,” I said, as the sugar melted my resolve.
Dr. Edmunds’s face lit up, and I caught an echo of the infamous Slade grin. His grin had magically persuasive properties, too, from what I’d observed when he talked his way out of detentions.
She cleared her throat and glanced at the other moms, who nodded encouragingly.
“Here’s the deal, Trina. Slade needs to learn some responsibility. And I know he’s capable of it, even though his father says… Oh, never mind. Anyway, I know how responsible you are. You’re always on the honor roll, and Mrs. Forrester raves about your babysitting skills, and didn’t you organize that Burger Barn boycott last year?” She paused to take a breath. “Which I supported, by the way.”
“Slade’s great with kids,” Mrs. Gonzalez piped up. “Max is taking swim lessons from him at the rec center, so I’ve seen him in action.”
I tried not to snort again. Okay, so it just so happens that I don’t know how to swim (yet), but that’s a whole other story. But seriously? Paddling around with kids in the shallow end and blowing bubbles? How did that compare to having complete responsibility for children all day? Including potential potty emergencies?
“Just think how much easier it will be for you, having someone to help wrangle the kids,” insisted Gillian’s mom.
Right. Like Slade was going to be Super Nanny. I fiddled with my binder and the sharp plastic corner dug into my leg. I remembered how I’d been stuck next to Slade during bio class last year.
“What is in that thing?” he’d asked, staring at my binder like it was a pile of toxic waste.
“Only my entire life,” I’d told him. “Homework, college apps, articles on time management, recipes, medical records—”
“You keep your medical records in there?” He’d stared at me in mock horror with those hypnotic topaz eyes, but I was unmoved.
“Not my medical records. They’re for the kids I babysit. In case of emergency.” Because you never knew when disaster might strike.
He’d busted a gut laughing in my face. “You’re a trip, Clemons.” His eyes weren’t so pretty then.
Mrs. Gonzalez’s voice jolted me back to the sugar-fueled tribunal. “We’ll still pay you the full salary we agreed on for taking care of both kids.”
That didn’t make sense. “Don’t you need to cut my salary in half? So you can pay Slade the other half?”
The moms gave one another cryptic looks that made my spine tingle.
Dr. Edmunds sighed wearily. It must be hard being a slacker mom. Or, a mom to a slacker. Whatever.
“Mrs. Gonzalez and Mrs. Forrester will pay you as agreed previously,” she said. “And I’ll pay you an extra half salary to…um…subsidize the time you spend mentoring Slade.”
Mentoring? That was so not going to happen. But I was still confused about the money. “Then who’s paying Slade? He’s not going to do this for free, right?” Not even he was that clueless.
The moms grabbed cookies from the platter. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who used sugar as a stress buster.
“I’m paying him,” said his mom, her voice soft.
I stared at her, shocked. What kind of guy would let his mom pay him to be “mentored”? And wasn’t she violating some code of ethics, doing this to her son? Maybe I should report her to whatever board regulated shrinks.
“He’s not going to know,” she said quickly. “He’s going to think the payment is coming from Max’s mom. We’re presenting this as you being Gillian’s nanny and Slade being Max’s nanny. But of course you’ll be the one in charge.”
My stomach flip-flopped. “I’m sorry, but I can’t agree to that. It’s not right. And it’s not fair to Slade.” I couldn’t believe I was defending the guy, but this was crazy sauce.
“All right, Trina. I’ll pay you an additional full salary,” said Dr. Edmunds, not missing a beat.
What the heck?
“Think about it, Trina,” said Gillian’s mom. “You’ll earn your full salary from me and Mrs. Gonzalez. And an extra full salary from Slade’s mom. Didn’t you tell me you wanted to buy a new laptop?”
These women were crazy. Maybe they were drunk. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at their glasses of tea. Suddenly Slade’s mom jumped up and started pacing, which had to be tough in the tight skirt she wore.
I reached for one of the homemade granola bars she had brought, then almost choked on the chalky, sandy grit lodged in my throat. Yuck. Apparently Slade’s mom was an even worse cook than mine. That might be the only thing he and I had in common.
“My son is a good guy,” Dr. Edmunds said, and paced some more. “He has a good heart.” Pace. “He just needs to learn some organizational skills.” Pace. Pace. “And he likes kids. This job will give him a chance to show what he’s capable of.” Pace. “To prove to his father…” her voice trailed away and she turned to me, her eyes full of unspoken pleas.
“I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered. “I never meant to imply that Slade’s a bad guy.” A total player, definitely. A slacker supreme, for sure. “But this whole idea just feels wrong and dishonest. Imagine if he found out—”
“He won’t find out.” Dr. Edmunds’s voice was firm.
“Not even his dad knows,” added Mrs. Gonzales.
Slade’s mom shot her the evil eye, and Max’s mom shrugged, looking embarrassed.
“This feels like a really bad movie,” I said. “One where you just know everything’s going to blow up in a huge mess at the end.”
I pictured Slade flipping out on me and shuddered at the image. Most popular guy in school goes ballistic on Bird Brain.
Bird Brain. I’d been pushing that memory away, but now it overwhelmed me.
In middle school, I’d started a petition to save a hawk’s nest in a tree the city was going to cut down. But Slade had nicknamed me Bird Brain and totally mocked my petition, so hardly anyone signed it, and the tree was chopped down. And the hawks didn’t make it.
So yeah, Slade was not my favorite person, not by a long shot. But this whole mentoring idea was whacked out. On top of all the money weirdness, there was the whole question of how incompetent he’d be with the kids. I just knew I’d end up nannying three kids instead of two.
Then again, if Slade was incompetent, maybe I could justify the extra salary from his mom. A new MacBook Air would be so much nicer than my ancient desktop PC. My mom couldn’t afford to buy me a new computer on her salary.
“Trina, this will benefit both of you,” Dr. Edmunds said in a soothing voice. I knew she was trying to hypnotize me into doing what she wanted. She probably had years of practice with anxious clients.
“You’ll have someone to help you with the kids, and Slade will learn from your example.” She paused. “You mentioned having the right to fire him. How about if we compromise? You send me a weekly report on how he’s doing, and if we agree that he’s not improving, we’ll discuss whether or not he stays on.”
Report on Slade’s progress? My stomach twisted in protest.
But that laptop was calling my name. And with the money I’d earn, I could help Mom out with expenses. Things had been tight lately, and even though she worked overtime at the hospital, we rarely had money left over for fun stuff. Maybe I could splurge on pizza nights and pedicures for us.
Max’s mom handed me a coconut macaroon, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. Sort of like me, since I was about to cave.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll do it. But you all have to swear to me that he will never, ever find out about this deal.” I could only imagine how he’d feel if he found out his mom paid someone to mentor him. Ugh.
The moms nodded, their faces solemn with promises, and I wondered if this was how it felt to sell your soul to the devil.
I bet there were some awesome cookies in hell, too.
Chapter Two
Slade
Saturday, June 1
“I’m sorry, Slade, but that’s the deal. You either go to this interview or give up your allowance for the summer.” My dad leaned against the counter, sipping coffee from his NPR mug. His gray ponytail hung over his shoulder. He was a walking hippie caricature, right down to the beard, Grateful Dead T-shirt, and Birks. With socks.
I slumped in my chair and stared at the half-eaten homemade granola bar in my hand.
This sucked. My parents were forcing me to interview for a freaking nanny job. Not a normal job at the mall or a movie theater where I could see my friends and get discounts on cool stuff.
Who did they think I was, Mary Poppins?
“Slade, I know you enjoy spending time with Max,” Mom jumped in, playing mediator. She looked innocent, sitting there in her robe and fuzzy slippers, but I knew this crazy idea had to be hers.
Fact: Having one shrink parent sucks. Two shrink parents? Twice the suckage.
I ran my hand through my hair. “Max is okay, I guess.” I rolled my eyes. “For a five-year-old.” What did she expect? Just because he was in my guppy swim class didn’t make us Vegas road trip buddies.
“Slade, you just have to go to the interview,” Mom said. She blinked her eyes really fast, which freaked me out because I hated it when she cried. “Just go and see what happens. If you don’t get hired—”
“Then he’ll find another job, or forfeit his allowance for the summer,” Dad said. “And give up driving his car.”
“What?” I jerked so violently that coffee spilled out of my mug. Dad glared at me. He bought stupidly expensive coffee beans from some local roaster and acted like the stuff was liquid gold. One time I’d started the coffeemaker and forgot to stick the pot under the filter. Coffee had spilled everywhere and Dad had reacted like I’d kicked a puppy or something.
“Slade, it’s time for you to start living up to your potential.”
Not again. If my dad came with a mute button, I’d press it.
Mom cleared her throat. “I don’t think we need to have this conversation right now, Mike.”
Dad glared at her. “Karen, we talked about this.”
“I know, I know.” She sighed. “Which is why he has the interview today.”
“That you set up,” Dad snapped. “He didn’t even do that part on his own.”
“Sitting right here,” I chimed in. “Hearing every word.”
They both gaped at me, like they’d forgotten I was there. I sighed and took a long drink of the liquid gold, preparing my argument.
“I’m completely unqualified,” I said. “I’ve never babysat. I can handle little kids in small doses. But all day? With the crying and whining and peeing their pants?” I shook my head and tried to look disappointed in myself. “It’s just not a good fit. How ’bout I apply at Victoria’s Secret?”
Mom narrowed her eyes. “Hilarious, Slade.” She took a sip of her coffee. “You’re going to this interview.”
“For once, I agree with Slade.” Dad crossed the kitchen and refilled his mug.
“Mike! What are you talking about?” Mom stared at him like he’d turned into an alien.
Dad shrugged. “Slade’s right. He’s completely unqualified. I can’t figure out how you got Max’s mom to even consider—”
“We’re friends,” Mom interrupted. “Book club. Bunco parties.” She waved her hand dismissively. “She trusts me. I’ve told her all about Slade.”
Dad and I looked at each other, and I suspected we were thinking the same thing: If she really had told Max’s mom all about me, why would she give me an interview?
“Look,” I said. “I get why you guys want me to get a real job. You’ve never made me work, other than the toddler swim lessons and lifeguarding, which were my idea, by the way—”
“That’s what, a few hours a week?” Dad interrupted. “Since you’re only a substitute lifeguard this summer.”
I ignored him, focusing on Mom instead. “You gave me a car when I turned sixteen. You give me a decent allowance. You don’t—”
“Decent?” Dad interrupted. “Your allowance is more than I made while I worked my way through college.”
I rolled my eyes. “As I was saying, you don’t make me pay for my car insurance. Or gas for my car.” I sighed. “So I get it. But I’d really like to choose what jobs I apply for.”
Dad stroked his beard. “Karen, I believe our son is showing a modicum of sense. For once.”
Mom got all blinky-eyed again, then took a bite of her cereal and chewed for a long time.
Finally she spoke. “All right. I’ll make you a deal, Slade. I still want you to go to the interview. If Mrs. Gonzales doesn’t offer you the job, then you can apply for any job you want.” She frowned at me. “Except Victoria’s Secret.”
I glanced at Dad, who shrugged. “I’d take the deal if I were you.”
I nodded at Mom. “Deal.”
My parents had zero faith in me, but they showed it in different ways. Dad attacked me head on. Bs should be As. Cs were unacceptable, even though I got them all the time. Making state in swimming was good, but why didn’t I medal?
Mom was more subtle. “That’s great you got a B minus on that essay. But if you’d worked a little harder, it would’ve been an A. And by the way, how many laps did you swim today?”
Honestly, they’d both be shocked if I got a job offer. On one hand, I’d like to shock them.
On the other hand, actually getting the job sounded like a nightmare come true.
Mrs. Gonzales shoved a cookie platter under my nose. I took one with brown sugar and cinnamon. Snicker strudels? No, that wasn’t right. I took a bite. Whatever it was, I liked it.
“Slade, I’m so glad you’re interested in this job. Max just adores you.”
Max played on the floor with his mountain of rubber dinosaurs. Judging from his suspicious expression, he didn’t adore me. I grinned at him, but he focused his attention back on his T. rex battle.
Mrs. G. poured me a glass of iced tea. I started to drink it then noticed something weird inside the ice cubes. “Uh,” I held out the glass. “I think maybe there’s mold or something in the ice.”
She smiled. “It’s crushed mint leaf. For flavor.”
Wow. How did chicks come up with stuff like this? I took a sip. Not as good as Dad’s coffee, but not horrible.
“So, the job is Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays, about nine hours a day, depending on our schedules,” said Mrs. G. “The kids go to church day camp on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so you’ll have those days off. We’ll cover all the expenses of course, for outings and lunches, etc. The pay is ten dollars per hour.”
Two hundred seventy bucks a week just to hang out with a little kid? He couldn’t be that much trouble.
“That sounds good,” I said, hardly believing the words coming out of my mouth.
Mrs. G. smiled. “Your application was great, Slade. But can you answer a few more questions for me?”
“Sure.” I reached for another cookie. They were way better than my mom’s nasty granola bars, which I only ate so I wouldn’t hurt her feelings.
I’d filled the application with stuff I knew Mrs. G. wanted to hear. Like how much I loved kids (which was an exaggeration) and how I was CPR certified (which was true). And then I added a killer line about wanting a job that would be more meaningful than just working in the mall. Damn, I was good.
“What would you do if Max started having a tantrum? Screaming and causing a scene in public?”
I glanced at Max, who frowned at his mom. “Does he do that?”
“Just tell me what you’d do.”
Suddenly the T. rex was tossing toy raptors across the room.
“Huh.” Offering the kid a beer to chill him out probably wasn’t the best answer. “Give him a cookie?” I took another bite. “They’re awesome.”
Max and the T. rex stopped attacking the smaller dinosaurs.
Mrs. G. frowned. “Well, that wouldn’t be my first choice. Maybe you could ask him to use his words.”
“Um, isn’t he already using his words? If he’s screaming and stuff?”
Mrs. G. gave me one of those fake mom smiles, the ones where you know they’re thinking all kinds of un-mom-like stuff, but won’t say it out loud.
One point to Mrs. G.
“Next question.” She brushed imaginary crumbs off her lap. “What if the house catches on fire?”
Did Mom tell her I was a total moron? “Get Max outside and call 911 from my cell.”
One point to me.
“All right, Slade. This one’s important. Let’s say you and the other nanny get distracted and the kids—”
“Wait, there’s another nanny? And did you say kids, plural?”
She raised an eyebrow, like she was surprised I knew the word plural. What had my mom said about me, anyway?
“Yes. You’ll be nannying with a…partner. She’s very experienced. Very responsible. She’ll be watching Max’s best friend, Gillian.” She hesitated, then whispered, “Gillian’s the one who might be throwing tantrums, not Max.”
“Yay! Gillian!” Max’s T. rex did a somersault in the air.
Another nanny? A girl, obviously, since who ever heard of a guy nanny, besides my mom and Mrs. G. Maybe she’d be hot. If not hot, at least cute. That would definitely make this babysitting gig more interesting. Depending on how well we hit it off—
“Slade? Did you hear the question?”
I blinked, refocusing on Mrs. G. “Sorry, I got distracted. Could you repeat the question?” I gave her my most sincere apology face, the one that worked on all my teachers when I zoned out in class.
Mrs. G. passed me the cookie plate again. “So the question is,” she continued, “if you and the other nanny were busy and then you noticed the kids were missing, what would you do?”
Damn. Was this the kind of stuff parents worried about? No wonder my parents had so many clients if people were this paranoid.
“I’d start yelling their names. Run around looking for them.” I noticed Max watching me closely. He stuck his finger in his nose and started digging. Great. Why didn’t his mom ask me how to deal with that? Cayenne pepper on the finger. My grandpa did it to me and it worked.
Then again, Dad said the type of stuff Grandpa did was the reason he’d never run out of clients.
“Um, check all their hiding places.” I took a bite of another cookie.
“And how would you know those?”
“From hide-and-seek,” Max piped up. He smiled at me, kind of shy. “He’d know where to look from playing hide-and-seek with us.”
“You like hide-and-seek, buddy?” I returned his smile. At least his finger was out of his nose.
Max nodded. “It’s my favorite game. Gilly’s, too.”
I relaxed into my chair and grinned at Mrs. G.
Point to Slade. And Max.
“Well, Slade, you’ve answered my questions satisfactorily. And your mom vouches for you. So, if you want the job, it’s yours.”
This job-hunting thing was cake. “So, about the other nanny?” I asked casually. “Who is she?”
Mrs. G. stood up to clear the coffee table. “You’ll meet her on Monday. She’s a nice girl. Very organized. I think you go to the same high school.”
Organized? Nice? Was that code for “troll”?
Nah, she’d be cool. I could think of lots of hot girls who fit that description. And I supposed one of us had to be organized, to plan the kids’ field trips or whatever.
This summer was going to rock. Easy money. Hanging out with a hot nanny. Maybe even hooking up with her, depending on how things went.
Mom was a genius, but I’d never tell her that.
Mrs. G. walked me to the door. Max followed, hovering behind his mom like a shadow. I kind of felt sorry for him. He was shy, and super serious. Maybe we could work on that over the summer.
“Thanks, Mrs. G. I mean, Mrs. Gonzalez. I promise I won’t let you down.”
Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “You can call me Mrs. G. And I know you won’t let me down. You and Trina are going to be perfect partners. I can tell.”
My hand froze on the doorknob. I felt like I was in a nightmare where I had to run from the monster, but my legs wouldn’t work. “Did you say…Trina?”
Mrs. G. was all smiles. “Trina Clemons. You know her from school, right? I’ll give her your cell number and email address. She can contact you with the plan for Monday.” She paused. “She has this binder full of great ideas for the kids.”
I knew all about Bird Brain and her binder from hell. I might as well just stab myself in the eye with a fork. It would hurt less than the pain I was about to endure working with Trina. Damn it. I should’ve mentioned the cayenne pepper idea.
“Bye, Slade,” Max chirped, hanging onto his mom’s leg. He grinned at me and I noticed his two bottom front teeth were AWOL. “I wanna play hide-and-seek with you.”
I couldn’t back out. Not on the kid. “Sounds great, Max-man. You can show me your best hiding places on Monday.”
I wondered how soon I could ask for a raise, because working with Bird Brain deserved hazard pay. One thing was for sure. She wasn’t going to boss the kids and me around like some tight-assed cruise director. Since I’d earned this job fair and square, this was going to be a partnership, not a dictatorship.
I’d make sure of it.
