Page 143 of Worst Nanny Ever
“You’re a master manipulator for the force of good,” I tell her, “and we love you for it.”
“I have to go, my dears,” she says, clasping her hands together, “but let me just say how happy I am that you’ve come together. I hoped for it, of course, and Ollie and I did plant a good many pink crystals around this house. Now, I can’t wait to see who the universe has in mind for dear Briar.”
“Are you going to try to dowse out an answer again?” I ask.
She smiles knowingly at me. “I just might.”
Then she leaves us alone, closing the door behind her.
I turn to Travis and wrap my arms around him, burying my face in his neck. “Go play in your music room,” I say. “It always helps when you’ve had a bad day.”
He kisses me on the lips, pulling me onto his lap. “Who said it was a bad day? I knew she was coming back. She was always going to come back sometime. But Ollie called me Dad, Hannah,” he says, his voice shaking. “He said he wants to stay here with me, and I already called my lawyer to talk about my next steps, and he sounds confident. So no, I can’t write it off as a bad day.”
I run my fingers across his cheekbone, then kiss him—again and again, needing the rasp of his stubble against my cheeks and the hard press of his soft lips.
“I still think you should go play,” I say after a minute, forcing myself back. “This has been a lot.”
He nods and tucks a curl behind my ear. “I will. But I’m not going to lay down a beat. I’m going to play ‘Blue River’ on the guitar.” He grins. “And you’re going to sing with me. Tomorrow too. The Moroney Movers and Shakers need to ride again.”
“Are we bringing Liam in on this?” I ask, grinning, my heart full of him.
“Yes. We’re going to make a group effort to get Eugene laid.”
“God, I really love you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
TRAVIS
I call Rob to tell him about Lilah’s visit and ask if he’ll bring in a sub for me. There’s no way I’m up for teaching kids after the last twenty-four hours. I also give him a heads-up that I’ll have to leave The Missing Beat early on Friday so I can be there for Eugene’s big moment.
By the end of the day, Lilah still hasn’t shown up. She doesn’t call either, and after Hannah and I put Ollie to bed, I find the koala in the bathroom trash can.
I take it out and brush it off. He might want it later, and the last thing I need is Lilah showing up and accusing me of throwing out her unwanted gift.
Friday morning passes in a blur of working out and talking to my lawyer. Hannah spends it with Dottie and the Wise Elders Group, who called an emergency meeting to help Eugene prepare for his date. They’re also going to babysit for Ollie during the big moment, and I have every expectation that he’ll be returned to me afterward with a sugar high that lasts half the night.
Hannah’s acting the way I did before my first big public performance, and it’s cute as hell. Part of methinks she and the Wise Elders should just let Eugene do his thing, but then I remember the Eugene I first met—crotchety and alone—and I realize this is probably exactly what he needs. Friendship and encouragement. The knowledge that if he stumbles, he’ll still have friends to break his fall.
Hannah told me weeks ago that Eugene reminded her of an old version of me, and she was right in a way, because that’s what I needed too. For someone to pull me out of my solitary bubble and get my head out of my ass. And that someone was Hannah. She’s worked her magic on both of us. With any luck, Eugene’s date will go well tonight.
For now, however, I have other things to focus on. It’s time to go back to The Missing Beat.
I head there early, needing to make peace with the space before the kids show up, but I’m not surprised when I open the door and see Rob already here, standing at the window.
“Enjoying the view?” I ask, walking up and slapping him on the back.
He laughs and shakes his head. “Only a real dumbass would buy a place like this.” He looks me in the eye, his smile fading. “You really set all this up with your own money?”
I hold his gaze. “We’re talking about this now?”
“We’re talking about it.”
“It was my father’s money. It never felt like mine. Only a way to make a different life.”
He lifts his brow. “And those grants you told me you’d gotten?”
“The first one I made up, but I got better at applying for them. There was a learning curve.”
