Page 40 of Worst Nanny Ever
“I knew you’d cheer him up,” he says after opening the door for me.
I slide into the driver’s seat and look up at him. “You’re a smart man.”
One corner of his mouth lifts up higher than the other. “Iaman expert at maritime law.”
“Look at you, cracking jokes about your birthright.”
He hesitates, then says, “I realize I should have asked you this inside, but would you like to stay for dinner?”
I can’t think of the last time a man offered to cook for me, but I have to set firm boundaries. I can’t slip into any more dangerous behavior with him. “No, thanks. We already got huge ice cream sundaes.”
“You’re messing with me again,” he says with a slow smile.
“Nope.”
“And you didn’t get me one?” he asks, still leaning into the car.
“Nope, but maybe next time I’ll save you my cherry.”
Dammit, Hannah. Bad Hannah!
He smiles wryly, shaking his head at me. “You have a good night, Hannah.”
When I get home, I do something I’d promised myself not to do and google Ollie’s mother—Lilah Santiago.
The woman has a Wikipedia page because her (now) ex-husband produced one god-awful single for her. She’s also some sort of “influencer,” with an Instagram page full of artsy shots of her face, a grapefruit, and some kitchen implements I doubt she’s ever used, and has an IMDb page for a few roles as an extra in TV shows and movies.
I purse my mouth to the side, studying her face. Of course she’s pretty. She looks like she comes from a long line of models on both sides, with her perfectly sleek, waist-length black hair, and big almond-shaped gray eyes. Her boobs are also freaking huge, although I’m guessing they’re too perky to be one hundred percent natural.
I snap a photo of her and text it to Briar and Sophie.
This is Ollie’s mother.
Briar: Are we going to put up STD posters of her too?
I laugh out loud. After we figured out Jonah was a creeper who was four-timing all of us, I started putting up posters of him all around town, warning women he was infested with STDs. There are still a few he hasn’t tracked down, including in the bookstore bathroom, which amuses me to no end.
Sophie: No, that wouldn’t work. She doesn’t live here.
Me: I love that we’ve awakened Sophie’s dark side, but no. I’m just showing you this so you can see I’m totally not Travis’s type. THIS is what he likes.
Briar: Tall, dark, and evil?
Me: Not me, basically. Karen’s tall and brunette too, so he probably has a thing for brunettes.
Me: I mean, from what little I remember about Karen.
Sophie: Do you WANT to be his type?
Me: No, I was proving a point.
Briar: Yes, you’re doing internet searches on his exes. We can all tell you’re definitely not into him.
Well, shit.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
TRAVIS
