Page 10 of Worst Nanny Ever
It’s a mark of my desperation that I wave her inside instead of pretending to be someone else. I know when a woman’s done her research, and she’s obviously done hers. The greater concern is how she found out who I am—and whether she’s going to tell anyone else.
“Here’s Ollie,” I say, leading her into the living room and gesturing to my son, who’s still standing by the couch. He looks unfazed. Then again, Lilah’s the kind of woman who wears clothes like this to the grocery store. Maybe he thinks nothing of it.
She plants her hands on her thighs and leans down to talk to Ollie, giving us both an unwanted view of her cleavage. “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest little thing. We’re going to be the very best of friends. I can tell.”
She glances up at me, giving me an overdramatic wink before shifting her attention back to him.
Ollie watches her clinically for a moment, then says, “I don’t think so. You don’t have to pay your friends, and Travis isn’t looking for a friend for me. He wants to keep me out of trouble. I don’t think you could.”
She looks pissed for half a second, but then she forces a laugh. “Oh, how funny. Isn’t he funny?” she asks me, still leaning down with her cleavage on display. As if I could have still failed to notice she has C or maybe D cup breasts.
“Why are you crouched over like that?” Ollie asks.
She stands but crosses her arms just under her chest, pushing her breasts up. “What a nice house you two have,” she comments, glancing around. “We’re gonna have such a good time in here, Ollie. What do you like to do? Do you enjoy playing music like your dad does? You’resolucky to live with a professional musician.”
Ollie glances up at me as if to say,Really, Travis? Is this the best you can do?
Then he turns to face her and says flatly, “I don’t know.”
Her grin is as sweet as saccharin. “Well, you know what, Ollie? It just so happens that I have a fun little music set I can bring over here, and we can make our own music together.”
“Are you talking about one of those plastic kids’ sets?” he asks with withering contempt. “I’m a little old for that.”
“I have recorders,” she says tightly. “Lots of grown-ups play recorders.”
Ollie and I exchange a quick glance—he’d complained about the recorders used in music class at school, and I admitted I still have nightmares about the shrill plastic recorders handed out at my private school when I was a kid. He gives me a half smile, and I return it, feeling a surge of affection for him.
“No, thanks,” he says. “Do you like doing science experiments? Ilovechemical reactions. The messier, the better.”
“Um, like baking soda and vinegar?” She looks down at her dress in quiet dismay and dusts off the skirt with her hands. “Sure. I’ve done that before.”
“And making gooey things. Ilovegooey things. We could get into a goo fight. That might be fun. Would you like that? Playing catch with goo?”
She gives him a simpering smile. “I’m not much for playing catch, but you can throw it to yourself or your dad. We could read together, though. Do you know how to read?”
“I’m seven,” he says flatly. Without missing a beat, he looks up at me with a gaze that’s all innocence. “Hey, Travis, can I please go read quietly in my room by myself?”
I nearly laugh.
Instead, I nod. “Sure. Thanks for asking.”
No point in having him hang around. I’ve already decided this one is a no-go.
I watch him head to his room. Before entering, he casts apointed look at me and mouths,No!—which Rachel must notice.
She wraps her fingers around my arm, stroking my bicep, and I barely resist the impulse to pull away.
“You poor thing,” she says, batting her lashes up at me. “It’s not easy being a single father, but I’ll take care of both of you, you’ll see. Do you need a live-in nanny?”
I remove her hand. “No.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone get little Paulie ready and out the door in the mornings?”
Yes, dammit.
“Ollie,” I correct.
“Of course. Well, I’d be happy to live here if you change your mind. We could be true partners in Ollie’s care.”
