Page 21 of Worst Nanny Ever
I clear my throat and pull away. “You do. Very pathetic. How dare you make me be nice.”
His eyes, dark and bottomless, are still holding mine, and I’m newly aware of how close he is, of his body inches from mine. He’s dressed in the clothes he wears for concerts—a black T-shirt and jeans, distinct from the preppier look he goes for otherwise—and I’ll bet he’s still salty with sweat from playing…
I clear my throat. “Speaking about nannies…there’s no sugarcoating this, so I’m going to come out and say it. Ollie wants me to be his nanny.”
He gives me a look he’d probably describe as droll. “Do you honestly think I haven’t heard about this every day since you were here last month?”
I snort-laugh. “He’s good for a girl’s ego, too.”
“Not so great for mine. But he gave me a high five earlier, so maybe all hope’s not lost.” He pauses, studying me, his gaze digging deep again. “Do youwantto be a nanny, Hannah?”
“Honestly, no.”
“Would you prefer to return to Big Catch? I get the sense they’d carry off a full-on rebellion to get you back.”
I smile, imagining my former colleagues holding pitchforks. “No, not right now, anyway.” I hesitate. “I care about Ollie. Would you let me take him places? I’m not much for sticking around in someone’s musty old living room for hours on end?—”
“You know it’s not musty.”
I lift my eyebrows. “But itisboring. Honestly, would it kill you to get a PlayStation?”
“You’re only supposed to let kids use screens for an hour or less a day.”
“Oh, please, I must have watched thousands of movies when I was his age.”
He casts a wry glance at me that’s totally asking for the shove I give him.
He laughs, then gives the room a thorough once-over as if taking it in with new eyes. “Look, I know. His room is a blank slate too. But he won’t go shopping with me. He insists he isn’t going to be here long enough for it to matter.”
“But he will be, won’t he?” I ask, all humor slipping away.
He nods slowly, watching me. Probably waiting for me to ask the dozens of questions dancing in my head. After a moment, he says, “I think so. I hope so. But I can’t tell him that yet.”
I nod. “I get it. But kids shouldn’t sit around twiddling their thumbs. You ask me, that’s why he’s getting into mischief. He’s smart, and he’s probably super bored. Which is why I like the idea of taking him places. Look how we circled back around to that.”
He sighs and rubs his temples. “I like knowing where he is.”
“So put that find-my-friends thing on his phone.”
“Hannah,” he says. “He’s seven years old. He doesn’t have a phone.”
“You can put it on mine, if you want to keep tabs onme.” I didn’t mean it to come out like that, a little sultry, or…you know what? Maybe I did. There’s something about Travis that makes me want to tap-dance all over his buttons. Maybe because I want to see what it takes to unleash that other side of him, the one that takes over when he’s sitting at the drums. I know I can’t go there—not only is he my potential boss, but also his best friend is dating my best friend—but that just makes me want to more.
He laughs. “Maybe. But no strip clubs until he’s eighteen.”
“Damn it.” I snap my fingers. “There go my plans for Monday afternoon. I’ll have to think of something else that’s educational.”
“We could maybe put together a list of approved places. If we do this.”
“Like with the little old ladies?”
“Like with the little old ladies,” he agrees. “I’d have to install a car seat in your car.”
“I could do it.”
“I’d want to do it,” he insists, which makes me bristle. He might as well have said he wouldn’t trust me to water a cactus without supervision, let alone his son.
I consider this for a moment. “Fine. I don’t like following instructions anyway.”
