Page 19 of Worst Nanny Ever
“I did,” says a gruff voice.
I shift to look at the speaker—and find a wizened man in a Big Catch T-shirt and corduroy pants. He has a full head of hairthe color of tarnished silver, a bushy mustache the same color, and rheumy light-blue eyes behind enormous double-bridge wire glasses.
“You’rethe new Hannah?” I ask in disbelief.
No offense to this guy, but going from him to Hannah is like swapping crisp french fries for a shriveled, uncooked potato. I have no idea what the hiring managers were thinking. He’s got to be in his late sixties, past the normal age of retirement, while the majority of the people who work here are in their early to mid-twenties.
He sniffs. “I’m Eugene. I was brought in to restore order. You have no idea what it was like before I came on board. People fornicating in canoes, outrageous parties, and bands leaving their kits outovernight.”
“Sounds fun,” Bixby says as he breezes past us and heads out the door. Liam’s with him, and they’re both weighed down with cases.
“Hardly,” the old guy scoffs, then rubs his chin. “Still…I suppose she had a way of connecting with all of these hooligans.” He hesitates, playing with the end of his mustache like a cartoon villain. “Actually…I’ve been thinking of reaching out to her. Having an official handing over of the torch.”
“Yeah, I bet she’d like that,” I say, knowing this guy would entertain her. Another thing I know from observing Hannah is that she likes a good story. “You want her number?”
CHAPTER SIX
HANNAH
I feel someone pulling a blanket over me.
“Liam?” I ask, still mostly asleep.
“It’s me,” a familiar voice says, and I open my bleary eyes to see Travis leaning over me, his hair brushed back enough to reveal his strawberry birthmark. He probably hates it, but I’m fascinated by it. It’s his special beauty—everyone has one, if you ask me.
“Jesus, how late is it?” I ask, sitting up, the blanket pooling around my lap.
“I’m sorry.” He sits beside me, not close enough that our thighs are touching, but enough that I feel the whisper of him. “It’s two. There was…it was an interesting night. We went somewhere else for a little while after the brewery closed.”
His vague explanation suggests I’ll be getting information from Sophie and Briar about it, not him. So noted.
I turn to get a better look at him. He’s wide awake, his eyes full of worry or maybe excitement.
“An expensive night for you,” I point out. “If you intend to bankroll my nap.”
He laughs, a low, husky sound that my mind stores away. “A deal’s a deal. I already Venmoed you. Did it go okay?”
Ah, worry, then.
He scans the room, searching for disaster, and I make a point of not looking in the direction of the stained chair.
“Like I said over ourmanytext messages…it went great. He’s a good kid.” I pause. “Why don’t you ever take him to your shows? Sophie, Briar, and I would be happy to look after him.”
He gives me an incredulous look. “They’re all at bars or breweries.”
“As if other people don’t bring their children to breweries.”
He shrugs. “But the music’s for adults. The lyrics…”
“You’re worried he’ll realize ‘Hot Honey’ is about Rob going down on Sophie? I doubt it. He may be too smart for his own good, but he’s still seven.”
He gives me a wry smile and leans back into the sofa. “I’m not comfortable with it. Some woman threw her panties at Rob tonight.”
“Dammit,” I say, instantly bristling. “I wasn’t there to defend Sophie’s territory.”
“What if Sophie was the one who threw them?” he asks, his smile widening.
“Come on. We both know she wasn’t.”
