Page 35 of Curvy Nanny for the Cougar
I should lie.
What am I doing telling her about that?
Carina lets out a tiny squeal. “YES! And?”
“And?” I narrow my eyes, but I’m already smiling. “You want details?”
“Obviously.”
I press my lips together. The memory of his mouth, his hands, his everything flashes across my mind like a highlight reel of sin.
“Well, yeah. It worked. I mean, I found a match and we, uh, went out or whatever.”
Yeah, I’m obviously still that cool.
Don’t be jealous.
But she ignores my awkwardness, thank God.
She leans in, wiping her hands on her apron.
“And?”
“And? It was just one night,” I say quickly. Too quickly. “No big deal.”
Carina gives me a look.
One of those ‘girl, don’t lie to me’ expressions only women fluent in relationship chaos and pepperoni oil can pull off.
Before she can launch into full interrogation mode, I clear my throat.
“Anyway, is my order ready?”
“Uh-huh,” she says slowly, handing over the bag. “Your pizza’s ready. Your denial? Not so much.”
I blush, grab the bag, and offer her a sheepish smile.
As I step back into the night, I tell myself again.
Tomorrow is a new start. A fresh chapter. One without mystery kisses or dating apps or—my phone buzzes.
It’s a reminder.
Nanny Trial Starts: 7:30 AM
The next morning, I am ready to roll at exactly 6:58 AM.
Yes. I’m that girl.
The one who shows up to flights three hours early. The one who re-reads confirmation emails twelve times. The one who packs a backup pair of underwear in her purse "just in case."
I hate being late. Sue me.
So naturally, Mr. Uptight and Demanding, aka my new boss, aka Dane Alistair, has chosen this exact moment in time to go completely silent.
No address.
No message.
