Текст книги "Playing the Player"

Автор книги: Lisa Brown Roberts

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Chapter Three

Slade

Sunday, June 2

Alex and I hung out at the country club pool. I watched the girls, he watched the guys. Between the two of us, not an inch of lounge chair went un-scoped.

“This is, without a doubt, the best time of the year,” Alex said, as a guy who looked like he lived at the gym snaked by us in a Speedo.

“Without a doubt,” I agreed, my eyes following two girls in skimpy bikinis.

“So about this other nanny? Is she a Swedish exchange student? Russian? Tall and gorgeous?”

I groaned and stretched out my legs, hanging them off the sides of the lounge chair.

“Not exactly.” Trina was as exotic as Wonder Bread. She was soggy like that, too, sucking the fun out of everything.

“Yeah? What’s up?” Alex raised his designer shades to squint at me under the bright Colorado sun. He already had a tan, and his hair looked like he lived on a beach, but I knew the streaks came from a salon.

“Slade! Watch me!”

I turned to see one of the kids I’d taught at the rec center. I waved as he cannonballed into the deep end. He popped back up, spitting water out of his mouth, checking to make sure I’d seen him.

“Awesome, buddy!” I called out, giving him a thumbs-up. He returned the gesture then swam away toward his friends.

“Bet you don’t even remember his name,” Alex said.

“Ryan Marsh. Terrified when we started lessons, but swimming like a fish by the end.”

Alex snorted. “Impressive.”

“Yet I have no idea what brand of sunglasses you’re wearing. Now that’s impressive.” Alex had tried to give me a makeover a few times, but it always ended up with us starting a wrestling match in the dressing room and getting kicked out of whatever store we were in.

He snapped a wet towel at me. “So tell me about the other nanny. Does she drool? Have fangs? Three eyes?”

I might as well get this over with. “It’s Trina. You know, from school.”

“Bird Brain?” He smirked. “Dude. You’re in for a crazy summer.”

“Tell me about it.”

We’d called Trina “Bird Brain” after she went on some Save the Geese rampage. It was the first of many rampages for her. If there was an underdog cause, she led the charge, always forcing boycott fliers on everyone, running fundraisers and bake sales.

“At least she’s sort of cute,” Alex said. “Like a little fairy.” He snickered. “Not my kind of fairy. More like Tinker Bell.”

I gaped at him. Was he high?

“She is,” he insisted. “She’s got this waifish, dainty elegance thing going on.”

“You’re so gay.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I’m also a visual person, and some people are more interesting to look at than others. Trina’s interesting. Not like all the Barbie clones you go for.”

“I know what I like.” I always had. Blonde. Tall. Tanned. I definitely had a type and Trina wasn’t it.

It wasn’t just her appearance. She was wound so tight it would take Superman to unwind her. Not to mention that crazy binder that tracked her whole life. It made me want to hurl just thinking about it.

“So when do you two start your nanny dates?” Alex slurped from his soda.

“Tomorrow.” I groaned. “She’s already emailed me a schedule for the day. And texted me to make sure I got it.”

Alex stretched his arms above his head. “This is going to be such an entertaining summer. I think I’ll send Trina a thank-you card. Maybe flowers.”

“Shut up,” I growled. Maybe after a few days of hanging out with me, Trina would chill out. Alex said my aura relaxed people. I didn’t buy a lot of his New Age crapola, but I knew what he meant.

Alex flicked his fingers over his cell screen and groaned. “Check it out.” He handed me his phone. “Tiffany posted a rant about Derek dumping her.”

I scanned the screen. Lots of all-caps screaming and many, many exclamation points. “Sounds like Tiff got burned.”

He shrugged. “Haven’t we all?”

I stretched out my legs. “Not really, no.” Just the one time.

Alex sighed next to me. “Whatever.”

“I don’t do breakups, because I just do hookups. You should try it. Save you all that emo damage.”

He chucked a piece of soda ice at me. “You only think there’s no damage. I’m the one they come crying to after you dump them.”

I stared at him, surprised. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He took off his shades and glared at me. “They all say they’re not going to fall for you, that they know what they’re getting into. But you spin your Slade spell and they fall in love. Then you lose interest and break their hearts. Honestly dude, it’s getting old.”

I gaped at him. “Are you for real?”

He nodded. “I am. How ’bout you keep it in your pants this summer? Or—here’s a new concept—try to actually have a relationship that lasts longer than a week.”

Anger flared in my chest. “What is up with you, dude?”

He wouldn’t look at me. Alex had been my best friend since kindergarten. I didn’t get why he was judging me all of a sudden.

“Look,” he finally said, turning his gaze to me. “I know when Kristen dumped you, your heart was totally broken. You were a wreck. But dude, you really need to mellow out the whole player thing.”

I stared at my feet, unable to think of a reply.

“Seriously Slade. Have you ever considered dating someone long enough to have a real relationship? Do you even see these girls as real people?”

That pissed me off. “Of course I do. Look, the girls I hang out with are in it for the same reasons as me. None of them are looking for a fairy-tale romance, or whatever.”

Alex snorted. “Right.”

I clenched my fists, adrenaline shooting through me. “What the hell, dude? Why are you giving me crap?”

He narrowed his eyes, but didn’t reply. I jumped up and dove into the pool, staying underwater for as long as I could. Lungs burning, I broke the surface. Alex reclined on his lounge chair, flipping through a magazine like nothing was wrong.

I swam toward the other end of the pool, kicking furiously, as if that could push away Alex’s words.

I was not a man whore. Did girls like me? Yes. Did I take what was offered to me? Yes. Did I ever turn them away, like if I thought they weren’t in it just for fun? Okay, so maybe that was more of a gray area. But I liked all of them. I did. When I was with them, I was with them.

And when I wasn’t, well…I just wasn’t.

A sleek, tanned body cannonballed next to me, showering me with water and pissing me off. I turned to the source and saw Alex, grinning.

“Take it back,” I demanded.

“What?”

“You called me a man whore.”

He looked surprised, then he laughed. “No I didn’t. But I wish I had. How ’bout I just call you bro-ho for short? Since you’re hardly a man.”

I splashed water at him as hard as I could.

“Bro-ho!” he yelled, sending a wave of water my direction.

I grabbed him around the neck and we went underwater, shoving each other and kicking. I heard the lifeguard’s whistle and we broke apart, rising back above the surface, laughing.

Lindsay the lifeguard glared down at us from her plastic throne. “Come on, you guys. Knock it off.”

“You know you love it,” I called up to her. “Watching two hot, half-naked guys wrestle.”

She bit back a smile, then turned away to focus on the little kids. Lindsay and I had been a thing once. For a week or so, last summer. At least, I think it was last summer.

“Let’s eat,” Alex called over his shoulder as we swam back toward our pool chairs.

The sun baked our skin dry while we ate our burgers. Mine was a double-cheese. Alex had a veggie abomination.

“Want my advice about Bird Brain?” Alex asked around a mouthful of his sawdust burger.

“Nope.” I spoke around an even bigger mouthful of fries.

He ignored me. “Be nice to her. You’re stuck with her for the whole summer. You might as well try to make it as painless as possible.”

I swallowed my fries. “When I am ever not nice to girls?”

He shot me a look. “Let’s just say you have…degrees of niceness, when it comes to girls. Trina’s way down your scale. Sort of like you’d help her up if she fell down in front of you, but you wouldn’t notice when she tripped over you in the first place.”

I took another bite, chewing slowly while formulating my argument.

“Also,” he continued, “you might actually learn something from her extreme organizational skills.”

“That’s crazy talk,” I said. “I know how to be organized. I just choose to spend my time doing other things. And of course I’d notice if she tripped over me.” Because that frigging binder would explode and I’d have critical paper cut injuries from the notebook shrapnel.

Alex leaned back and closed his eyes. “I don’t know why I bother giving you advice.”

“Me, either,” I agreed. “I do just fine without it.”

He snorted next to me. “Really? What about when I advised you not to invite Samantha to prom?”

Ouch. Sam had turned into Super-stalker, calling me night and day for weeks leading up to the prom, and for weeks after the prom, too. I’d ended up changing my cell number.

“Okay, so maybe I should have listened to you. Usually my stalker radar is pretty good.”

“Not that time.” He slurped his soda. “And then there was the memorable ski weekend with the Worthington twins.”

I cringed. The weekend had started out great. I’d gone skiing with Alex’s family. The twins’ parents had been out of town, but they let the girls use the ski condo. When we ran into them on the slopes, they’d invited us to hang out at their place. It had been awesome, until their boyfriends showed up.

How was I supposed to know the twins were dating college guys? And that they told them where they were staying? Alex and I had pretended we were a couple so the guys wouldn’t beat us up.

“Okay, dude. I get the point, but you’re not exactly a saint,” I argued.

“I never said I was,” he said. “But the difference is I actually care about the guys I’m with.” He sighed dramatically. “You know me. I’m a sucker for love.”

I pointed a french fry at him. “See, that’s your problem. You’re too much of a romantic. And look what happens. You get your heart broken.” It was true. I’d been there for him every time. One broken heart was enough of a lesson for me. I wasn’t dumb enough to risk that again.

Alex was quiet for a moment. “Maybe so. But in between the heartbreaks? When I’m in love? It’s awesome. You should try it sometime.” He paused, then shot me a grin. “Man ho.”

“Sap.”

“Bro-ho.”

“You’re addicted,” I said. “To the drama. To the crazy highs and lows.”

“Cynic,” he retorted. “Just wait. One of these days, it’ll happen to you.”

“Wanna bet?”

He rubbed his chin. “Why yes, I believe I will take that wager. Fifty bucks says one of these days you’re going to fall. Hard. And you won’t know what hit you.”

I shook my head. “No way. No how.”

“You’ll see. Some day you’ll be the dork spelling out ‘I love you’ in chocolate chips on a huge cookie for some unlucky girl.”

I gaped at him. “Who would do something that lame-stream?”

He ducked his head, looking sheepish. “Me. For Tim. Last year on Valentine’s Day.”

We laughed, then he sat up straight all of a sudden, shoving his burger aside. “Okay, here’s a safer bet. You think you’re man enough to get Trina to lighten up?”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “Define ‘lighten up.’”

He rubbed his chin. “Dancing in the streets. Setting her binder on fire.”

I winced. “Even I couldn’t make that happen.”

“Chicken.”

I couldn’t resist a challenge. Besides, I’d never met a girl who didn’t eventually succumb to my charms…at least my physical ones. “Deal. By the end of summer she’ll be partying like a rock star. Or at least not handing out boycott flyers on every corner.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We talking hookup?”

I flinched. “No way. She’s not my type.” I chewed on a fry. “But I’m sure I can get her to ratchet down the drill sergeant vibe.”

Alex nodded. “Okay, but we need to agree on criteria. I’ll need to see the new Trina in action. Going crazy, dancing on tables. Upside-down beer bong.”

I shook my head. “I’m not a miracle worker. But I bet you fifty bucks I can get her to chill.”

“Okay,” Alex agreed. “You know how Carson always throws that blowout end of summer party? Bring Trina to that. I want to see her dancing. Maybe even having a drink or two.” He leaned forward. “Swapping spit with somebody.”

My lounge chair suddenly felt too hot, and I had the urge to jump in the pool again. I stuck out my hand. “Fine. Fifty bucks says she’s the life of the party.” I paused. “Or at least not a total buzzkill.”

He shook my hand, laughing. “This is gonna be easy money for me, my friend. Not even you can unwind that girl.”

Chapter Four

Trina

Monday, June 3

As I pulled up to Gillian’s house, I sniffed the lavender oil on my wrist. A gift from my best friend Desi, the oil was supposed to relax me. She said it would help me stay chill around Slade. Yeah, right. I’d need actual Harry Potter magic for that, not some herbal placebo.

I glanced at the schedule on my cell phone. 8:30 a.m.: arrive at Gillian’s. It was 8:25. Perfect. I smiled with satisfaction as I slammed my car door.

Mrs. Forrester flung open the front door, looking harried. She hopped around on one bare foot while tugging a high-heeled sandal onto the other one. And she wore two different earrings.

“Trina, I’m so glad to see you. My God, what a morning we’ve had.”

I followed her into the kitchen where Gillian sat at the table, naked, eating Lucky Charms. She waved her dripping spoon at me.

I plunked down in the chair across from her¸ wondering where her clothes were.

“It’s naked day,” Gillian announced, reading my mind. “So you need to take off all your clothes.” She glared at my purple tank top and denim shorts.

Mrs. Forrester dropped a hand onto her daughter’s forehead. “She doesn’t have a fever,” she joked. “Just another typical day for Gillian.” She looked amused, but exhausted, as she tugged on her other shoe.

I nodded. “So,” I said. “The sooner you get dressed, Gillian, the sooner we can go meet Max.”

And his nanny. But I didn’t want to think about that until I was face-to-face with him.

Gillian shook her head. “Max has to be naked, too. I’m ready to go!” She streaked out of the kitchen, laughing, with her little Chihuahua, Spike, chasing after her.

Mrs. Forrester sighed heavily as she grabbed Gillian’s bowl from the table. She leaned against the kitchen counter, watching me. “You have no idea how much I appreciate you nannying for us.”

“I think maybe I do.” I tugged on an earlobe. “Um, your earrings don’t match.”

“Oh! Thanks for letting me know.” She smiled sheepishly and pulled them out of her ears.

“So do I get bonus cookies for working naked?”

Mrs. Forrester laughed. “She’s kind of going through a phase with the naked thing.” She bit her lip. “I hope she doesn’t try to strip at the museum today.”

I swallowed. “Is that a possibility?”

Mrs. Forrester shrugged. “Maybe. But we’ve been working with her on the importance of staying clothed. At least in public she’s moving away from total nudity to her swimsuit.”

I desperately wanted to sniff the lavender oil on my wrist, but I restrained myself.

“Anyway, I’m sure it’ll be fine. As long as she’s with Max, she’s happy.” Mrs. Forrester grabbed her purse from the back of a kitchen chair. “Her backpack’s around here somewhere, and you know where everything else is. Oh, I almost forgot.”

She dug through her purse and handed me a wad of cash. “That should be enough for the museum. Lunch. Something from the gift shop.”

Gillian bounced into the kitchen wearing sparkling red shoes and Disney princess underwear, but nothing else. “Gift shop!” she exclaimed. “Gift shop, gift shop!” She twirled around the kitchen, her red hair flying out like a fan.

“Mommy has to leave now, sweetie.” Mrs. Forrester leaned over to hug Gillian. “You behave for Trina.” She glared at her daughter. “And get dressed. Or else.”

Gillian giggled. “Or else what?”

“Or else I’ll make you wear clothes to bed.”

Gillian giggled maniacally and ran out of the room again, Spike at her heels.

“Good luck,” Mrs. Forrester said, backing out of the kitchen. “You’ll need it.”

I looked at my phone. 9:12. I pulled up my schedule. 9:00 – arrive at Max’s. My shoulders tensed; we were already late. I searched the lower floor of the house, calling Gillian’s name, but she was well hidden.

Running late, I texted Slade. Be there soon.

Like he’d even notice.

“Gillian!” I called up the stairs and heard a muffled giggle. I ran upstairs and into her bedroom. A dog’s wagging tail peeked out from under the bed. I dropped to my knees and lifted the dust ruffle. Gillian lay flat on the floor, her red sparkling shoes pointed toes up. Her eyes were closed.

“Shh,” she whispered. “I’m dead.”

My stomach clenched. “Don’t joke about that, Gillian.” I stretched out my arm and tugged on a tiny sequined shoe. Spike licked my hand. “Come on. Max is waiting for you.”

She wriggled out from her hiding spot, and I grabbed shorts and a shirt from a messy pile on the floor. “Here.” I handed her the clothes. “Get dressed. Now.” I tried out a glare, but it was half-hearted. It was hard to stay mad at her. She was like a sprite put on earth to make people laugh.

My phone pinged with a text. No worries, mate.

Worries? Slade didn’t know the meaning of the word.

Gillian dropped the clothes I’d given her and rummaged in the pile, yanking out a one-piece swimsuit and tugging it on. “Ta da!” She twirled around. “I’m dressed. Let’s go see Max.”

I frowned. I hadn’t endured this clothing battle before. “Remember what your mom said. You have to wear clothes in public.”

She pointed to her princess swimsuit. “This is clothes.”

I sighed and sank onto her bed. “Not really.” I pointed to my clothes. “These are clothes.”

She climbed onto the bed, leaning against me, smelling like milk and Lucky Charms. “You could wear your swimsuit, too. We could be twins.”

Show up in my swimsuit to meet Slade? My whole body blushed at the thought.

“Gillian, we’re already late. The longer you argue with me, the less time you’ll have with Max.” I tickled her, and she fell back on her mattress, giggling. Spike jumped on the bed and licked her face, eliciting more giggles.

“Okay, okay!” She slid off the bed and tugged her clothes on over her swimsuit, then put her hands on her hips. “I’m only wearing these cuz the car is public.”

I stared at her. “You realize the museum is a public place, too, right?”

She frowned and kicked at the floor with her sequined shoe. “The whole museum?” She peeked at me from under her bangs.

“Yes. The whole museum.”

She turned on her heel and stalked out of the room. I followed, laughing to myself and sniffing my wrist.

We arrived at Max’s house at 9:33. Knots twisted in my stomach. I hated being late, even if it was only Slade and Max.

Max opened the front door, his serious eyes traveling from Gillian to me then back. He wore Spiderman underwear, nothing else.

“Yippee!” Gillian screamed, tearing off her clothes as she pushed past him into the house. “Naked day!”

“Gillian!” I yelled after her, but it was too late. She’d already shed her shirt and shorts and ran up the staircase in her swimsuit, Max close behind her.

Slade emerged from the kitchen, looking sleepy and tousled. The unexpected adrenaline rush I felt when I saw him surprised me. He glanced toward the kids charging up the staircase, shrugged, then grinned at me. Immune, I told myself. You are immune to his wily charms.

“Howdy, partner. Want some coffee?” He lifted the mug in his hand and tilted his head in a question. He desperately needed to cut his messy surfer boy hair. He was in his usual slacker mode, wearing a Chase Rice concert T-shirt and faded khaki shorts. Of course he was barefoot.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “Coffee would be great.” I’d need all the energy I could muster to keep up with Gillian today. Not to mention, the whole pretending-to-be-partners-but-really-secretly mentoring-Slade charade.

I followed him into the kitchen, where a small TV blasted cartoons. Slade reached over and switched it off. He poured me a cup of coffee, then glanced over his shoulder. “Sugar? Milk?”

“Um, sugar,” I said, surprised he’d thought to ask. “I can do it. Where’s the bowl?” I stepped toward the counter, and he slid a sugar bowl toward me. Standing so close to him made me jittery, which was completely irrational. I dumped a spoonful into my mug and stirred, not looking at him.

What did I talk about with someone I had nothing in common with? Someone I was supposed to be secretly supervising? Someone who smelled like pine trees and sunshine?

Crap. What was wrong with me?

I shrugged my backpack off my shoulder and pulled out my binder, tossing it with a satisfying thunk onto the table. Slade muttered something under his breath.

“What?” I turned to look at him, and he widened his infamous eyes, looking innocent.

“Nothing.” He watched me over the rim of his mug.

I rubbed my hands together. “So, we have a lot to discuss. I’ve already mapped out this week for us. I think I’ve come up with a good balance of educational activities and character-building exercises.”

Slade sank into the chair across from me, pulled a foil packet of chocolate Pop Tarts from a box, and started eating one.

“Aren’t you going to toast that?” I asked him, frowning.

He shook his head, still chewing.

I sighed. “Anyway, I’ve also made copies of a few articles for you to read.”

He stared at me like I was an exhibit in a traveling freak show. “Articles? What about?”

“Child development. Child safety. Important stuff.”

I thought I saw him shudder, but I must have been imagining things.

“In fact…” I reached into my backpack and pulled out a red binder. “I made you your own binder.”

This time he definitely shuddered. He even stopped chewing. He swallowed, and then started choking. He grabbed his mug and took a swig of coffee, but that just made it worse.

I rushed to his chair and pounded him on the back. “Probably just went down the wrong pipe.”

He coughed harder, leaning over the table, crumbs flying from his mouth.

“I know the Heimlich.” I kneeled in front of him, worried by all his hacking noises. “Do you want me to do the Heimlich on you? Give me one finger for yes, two fingers for no.”

Still coughing violently, he waved four fingers at me, two on each hand.

Geez. Whatever. Not like I’d hurt him. I totally knew what I was doing from Babysitter First Aid class. I stomped away and opened cupboards until I found a glass, then filled it with water and handed it to him.

He took it from me, his hands shaking from coughing…and…laughter? Was he actually laughing? He took a few gulps of water and finally got himself under control.

“What’s so funny, Slade? I thought you were choking to death, but obviously not.” Too bad. That would’ve solved all my problems.

He set his glass on the table and pointed to his binder. “That is what’s so funny.” He glanced up at me, smirking. “You know I’ll never look inside that thing, right?”

I crossed my arms and glared at him. Even though I knew he was going to totally bomb as a nanny, I’d decided last night that I owed his mom the courtesy of doing my best to improve Slade this week. After all, she was paying me to let him tag along and learn from me.

His binder had multiple sections: child development, appropriate activities based on age, and another section with each day’s schedule, plus a section for notes on what he needed to improve. I’d put plenty of blank pages in that section.

“That binder may be your only chance of succeeding in this job, Slade.”

Based on the sudden anger flashing in his tiger-like eyes, maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say. I cleared my throat and tugged at the spikes of hair framing my face, painfully aware that my entire body was blushing.

“What I mean is, um, I’ve found that using a binder really helps me stay organized. So I thought maybe it could help you, too.”

There was so much I could teach him. But maybe I should dole it out slowly.

“Pop Tarts!” Gillian shrieked, appearing from nowhere and bouncing up and down in front of us. “Yes! And you have the chocolate ones. Can I have three?”

Slade laughed and started tearing open a foil package, but I put out a hand to stop him. I jerked my hand back when I realized I’d actually touched his arm. His gaze met mine and he raised a brow. I tore my gaze away from those stupid eyes of his and focused on Gillian.

“No, absolutely not.” I put on my best do-not-even-think-of-arguing-with-me face. “Your mom said no sugar.” She’d actually said one sugary treat a day was okay, but I figured none was even better.

Gillian’s face fell, and she turned her big blue eyes on Slade. “Puh-lease? I love them…and Mommy never buys them for me.” She faked a sniffle.

I rolled my eyes at Slade, who was trying to hold back laughter.

He closed the box. “Sorry, kiddo,” he said. “Gotta do what Trina says.”

Gillian pivoted toward me, glaring. “You’re not the boss of me.”

Barely two hours into our first day together and already she was staging a mutiny. I took a deep breath, refusing to look at Slade.

“Gillian, while you’re with me, I am the boss of you. It’s my job to take care of you while your parents are at work. And your mom said no sugar.” It would be easier to just let her have a Pop Tart, but I was terrified of how much crazier she’d be, hopped up on sugar.

She crossed her arms over her chest, still glaring at me.

“Go put your clothes on,” I said, “so we can get to the museum.”

“Hey, Gillian,” Slade interjected, “that’s a great idea. See, I kind of need your help.”

We both turned to Slade. His expression was all innocent and wide-eyed, and I watched in amazement as he turned the topaz eye power on full blast for a five-year-old. “See, Max doesn’t like me being the boss of him, either. So you could really help me out by getting dressed, and convincing him to get dressed, too.” He turned on the full wattage smile, complete with dimple. “Do you think you could do that for me, sweetheart?”

I watched her melt right before my eyes. Her glare morphed into a dazed smile. She nodded enthusiastically, then turned and ran out of the room.

Unbelievable. I didn’t know whether to thank him or throw something at him.

Then he turned the full Slade wattage on me. “Kids,” he said, shrugging like it was no big deal that he’d just completely defused both a mutiny and a meltdown.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Where’s the bathroom?”

He pointed to a doorway. Once inside the bathroom, I locked the door and dumped more lavender oil on my wrist.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

The museum swarmed like a noisy hive of families and tourists. Max wanted to stay in Prehistoric Journey where all the dino skellies were, but Gillian wanted to spend her time at Space Odyssey, pretending she was an astronaut and controlling a fake Rover on the moon.

After listening to the kids argue, I told Slade we should split up. I made sure he had his cell turned on and we agreed to rendezvous at twelve thirty for lunch.

Before lunch, I spent a painful fifteen minutes trying to convince Gillian that she needed to take off the astronaut costume so we could meet Max.

“You’re not the boss of me,” she declared. Again.

I made a desperate ploy. “We’re meeting Slade, you know.”

Her sour expression transformed to syrupy sweet, and she clambered out of the astronaut suit.

I texted Slade. Meet you at the café in five minutes.

At the café, I looked everywhere for Max and Slade. They weren’t sitting at any of the tables in the atrium and they weren’t in line for food. I texted him again.

Hello? We r at café? Where r u?

Gillian pointed. “There they are.”

Framed in the glass windows, Slade was kicked back on a bench in the sunshine, talking to two cute girls. Max sat on the ground playing with rubber dinosaurs.

“Damn him.”

“You cussed,” Gillian scolded. “Mom says no swearing. Unless she hurts herself. Or if Dad’s being a real jerk.” Gillian glared at me, hands on her hips. “And you’re not hurt.” She glanced out the door. “Are you and Slade married?”

My head snapped toward her. “What? No!”

You’re halfway through the day, I told myself. If I could just get her fed, we could relax in the IMAX movie.

After we snaked our way through the long line for food, Gillian rushed outside with her tray, making a beeline for Max and Slade. I followed slowly, not thrilled about eavesdropping on Slade’s pickup lines.

“Hey.” Max stopped his dinosaur battle and stared at Gillian. “I want a hot dog. Where’d you get that?”

Slade and the Barbies turned to stare at us, too. Slade winced as he pulled his cell out of his pocket, reading my messages.

“Damn. I totally lost track of time, Trina. Sorry I missed your texts. I had my phone silenced, cuz the security guard gave me crap about it ringing too loud.” He gave me one of those sexy grins that he used to charm his way out of trouble. But like I’d told Desi, I was immune to his tricks.

The Barbies glanced over their shoulders at Slade as he went inside for food, then giggled as they strutted away. Watching them sashay in their cute miniskirts, I felt like a dork in my shorts and flip-flops.

Gillian plopped down next to Max. “Where’d you get the new dinosaurs?”

“Gift shop.” His T. rex pinned a dinosaur with a fringed head.

“Gift shop!” Gillian eyed me like I was a prison warden. “I wanna go to the gift shop. Max got to go. It’s not fair!” And right before my eyes, she supersonicked straight into meltdown mode. Her screams echoed off the walls of the museum. Max stared at me anxiously, obviously expecting me to do something.

As I sat frozen in shock, the tiny part of my brain that still functioned realized that all of my previous babysitting experiences with Gillian had been at her house. I hadn’t actually taken her out in public before. Still, I knew she was hell on wheels, so I should’ve been prepared. I closed my eyes and wished for a fairy godmother to grant me super nanny powers.

But instead of a fairy godmother, Slade reappeared with a tray of food, just in time to hear the meltdown reach its maximum volume. He assessed the scene, looking unfazed by the chaos.

“So”—he settled himself next to me on the bench—“how much nanny experience do you actually have?”

It took all my self-control, which I have tons of, not to expose Gillian to more swear words than she’d ever heard in her life.

Instead I just glared at Slade, then turned to Gillian. “I will take you to the gift shop,” I said, trying to drown out the tantrum, “if you stop screaming.”