Page 55 of Worst Nanny Ever
“Do you understand what I mean by that, dear?” she asks,fully aware I’m not much of a believer in her favorite things—i.e., auras, crystals, and luck.
“That he’s boring?”
She shakes her head, her lips pursed. “No aura is boring. Gray is actuallyveryinteresting.” Her eyes pierce into me. “Yours has some shades of gray.”
“A morally gray aura.” I grin at her. “That’s kind of cool.”
“It means sadness, Hannah,” she says, cutting me to the quick. “Both of you have experienced great sadness. Be gentle with him.”
I glance at Eugene again. He looks like a pissed-off gym teacher who gives instructions from a folding chair.
“Are you sure about that?” I don’t need to question her about myself. I know I’ve been in a funk. The mess at Big Catch has weighed on me for months. Jonah’s behavior didn’t exactly restore my faith in humanity, even though he did unwittingly lead me to Sophie and Briar.
“Quite so,” Dottie says. “I already gave him a hunk of smoky quartz, but he might also benefit from stroking some rose quartz.”
I laugh under my breath. “Looks like he’d definitely benefit from stroking something.”
Her gaze narrows on me. “Are you wearing your necklace?”
After Sophie, Briar, and I realized we were dating the same lying loser, Dottie gave us each hunks of rose quartz, and Briar, who loves to give herself extra work, made us pendants out of them. The rose quartz is supposed to make us believe in romantic love again, which feels like a dangerous gamble right now. I might not believe in Dottie’s stones, but I figure a girl should hedge her bets. So I took it off the night Travis kissed me and haven’t put it on since.
“I’m not here to make a romantic connection with Eugene, Dottie,” I say, rolling my eyes. “And it didn’t matchmy outfit.”
“Love matches everything,” she insists. “And there are many different types of love, my dear, including self-love. You need to remember how to love yourself. Now, I’ve taken the liberty of ordering alovelybreakfast for you and your friend, but if you’d like to join me and the ladies later, you’re more than welcome. We can help you determine how to help dear Eugene.”
“What makes you think I want to help him?”
The woman sitting at the table next to us gives me a pointedmove onlook, and I smile sweetly at her and wave.
Dottie, who either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, smiles at me. “Because that’s your talent, dear. You’re a fixer. I don’t think you’ll be able to resist.”
She gives my hand another hand pat, then turns back to join the other ladies, leaving me in a mind storm.
That’s Dottie’s talent—acting like she’s a sweet little elderly lady and then coming out with bits of wisdom that bite you in the butt and make you question everything you thought you knew.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I continue the rest of the way to Eugene and sit across from him.
He checks his watch as soon as I sit.
“Oh, come on, I’m not late, and we both know it.”
He meets my gaze with a sniff that rustles his glorious bottlebrush mustache. “I’m Eugene.”
“And I’m Hannah, the old you.” I reach into my purse and pull out the mini flashlight I brought, handing it to him from across the table.
He takes it, his brow furrowing, and turns it over in his hand.
“I’m passing the torch,” I say. “Get it?”
He drops it like it’s a hot potato, and it rolls down the length of the stable and stops next to a vase full of crystals. “I can’t possibly accept gifts or bribes.”
“You must be fun at parties,” I say.
The very sight of the flashlight on the table seems to make him anxious, so I tuck it back into my bag.
“You must be wondering why I asked you to meet me here,” he says, steepling his hands and then pulling them apart.
I can’t resist the urge to mess with him a little. “I thought you wanted me to pass the torch, but now I’m starting to wonder. Is this supposed to be adate, Eugene?”
