Page 35 of Sexy Bad Daddy

“I am not dating the nanny.”

“Really? Because it kind of seems like we’re on a double date right now.”

“Nope. That’s not what’s happening.” I pick up the schooner and take a sip of the light ale, then adjust the way my knife and fork sit on my plate. Just because Abby is still with my parents and we’re picking her up on the way to the airport doesn’t make this a date. Is that really what this looks like from the outside? This dinner with my family and my nanny? I glance around the restaurant, checking to see if there’s any media around, anyone surreptitiously holding a cell phone. Because if this gets out, there’s every chance my sponsors would desert me. I’m already behind this season. I can’t afford to lose any more ground, or my career might as well be over. “Anyway, it was your fiancée who asked her to come along. I didn’t.”

“No, you were just the one dicking his employee.” Paynter leans in. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t that what we heard when we entered your apartment?”

“I’m not discussing my social life with you.”

“Right, so you’ll tell me for years that you get laid all the time, but all of a sudden this discussion is off the table? Do you know what this sounds like to me?”

“None of your business,” I snap. I’m done with this conversation. What’s happening between Erin and I is no one’s business but ours. I’m not about to make this day even more embarrassing for her.

“What about Abby? Just think about her before you make any rash decisions, yeah? Because she adores Erin. Almost as much as she adores Spot,” Paynt says, throwing himself back in his chair like he’s done with this conversation as well.

“What are we talking about?” Erin asks from behind me.

“Nothing,” I tell her, glaring at Paynter in the universal way brothers tell each other to shut the fuck up.

“Goats. It’s always goats,” he says. “How they climb all over one another and how they’re always so stubborn they can’t help but get themselves into trouble. Isn’t everything always about goats?”

“That was James.” Chloe returns to the table and sits down, a megawatt smile on her face. “He said he is sorry he couldn’t join us, but he’s still finishing up at the office.”

“What’s new?” Paynt says.

“He’s getting worse in his old age,” I agree. “That business is his mistress.”

“He’s dedicated. Hard-working. He has priorities,” Chloe sticks up for her boss and soon to be brother-in-law. “But that’s not the point. James had some news.”

“Clearly good news, by the looks of it.” I put my hand out to signal the waiter. “Champagne good?”

“Yes. I think so.” She nods and rests her hand on Paynter’s forearm while she explains how her ex and Paynt’s ex had contrived to ruin my brother’s budding relationship, and now both exes have been drummed out of their professions. Karma strikes again.

“Definitely news to toast to.” I say as the drinks waiter approaches our table. “Can we get a bottle of Dom?”

“Certainly, sir.” He leaves to fetch the bottle.

Erin’s eyes briefly widen at the mention of the champagne. Has she never tasted Dom before? She’s been a nanny for eight years, so one of those rich families she worked for introduced her, surely. “Dom Perignon. Have you tried it?”

“Can’t say I have.” She shakes her head.

“Well then, this should be a real treat.”

After we toast to Chloe’s good news, Paynter and I haggle over the bill, and then we all go our separate ways. Erin and I spend the drive to collect Abby in silence, but I don’t think either of us wants the last thing we say to each other before I catch my flight to be about my thoughts on her best friend.

Abby rushes us the minute we get in my parents’ front door. Dressed in pigtails and pajamas, she bypasses me and clings to Erin. “Gramma bought me new pjs. They have goats and pigs and ducks.”

She starts pointing out the animals as my mother calls out let Dad. “Keith, turn that TV off. Garrett’s here to pick up Abby.”

“Okay, okay. Hold your horses, Jill. I’m coming,” comes the grunted reply from my father in the living room.

“Abby was wonderful as always,” Mom says. “She’s my favorite grandchild.”

“She’s your only grandchild,” both Dad and I say at the same time.

“We made cookies,” Abby whispers excitedly to Erin, who scoops her up.

“Ooh, what kind?”

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