Page 4 of Knocking up his Nanny

CHAPTER 3

“It doesn’t have to be a real date,” I say quickly to cover up my awkwardness, and remove any pressure on him. “You see, my mother is currently receiving chemo in the Wintergreen Wing. She was complaining that I never go on any dates, and I just want to make her happy. I don’t want to lie. I just want to tell her something real and see her smile. So, you would be doing me a huge favor—maybe we can grab a chocolate milk together down at the cafeteria or something?”

“Chocolate milk?” the man responds with amusement. “Is that the sort of thing you would normally drink on a date?”

“I don’t know,” I admit with discomfort. “I don’t go on many dates.”

“Well, I understand why your mother might be worried. If you had chocolate milk on your last date, I assume you would have been around five years old. That could have been decades ago.”

“It’s possible,” I say with a shrug, preferring this story to my actual dating disasters. “So, what do grown-ups do, since you’re such a professional at dating?”

“I don’t date much either, to be honest,” he admits. “But I’ve never been asked out for chocolate milk. That’s different.”

“Should we have coffee, then?” I suggest.

“We can do anything we want,” he answers, with a grin. “Actually, I have an idea. Come with me!”

He extends his hand, offering to take mine, and I hesitate. I can’t help wondering what kind of trouble I’m getting myself into. But the look on his face is so cheerful and childlike that I can’t help trusting him a little. Heck, I really wouldn’t mind having some chocolate milk with this man.

I take one hand off my Cheetos, and place it in his, and he leads me through the hospital halls, and into an area that I’ve never been.

“Where are we going?” I ask with surprise. “Am I allowed to be back here?”

“I have a doctor friend who has an office that he keeps stocked up with a bunch of refreshments and snacks. He’s always fighting with his wife, and being forced to spend nights here in his office, so he added a refrigerator and microwave, plus some other basic comforts.”

“Are you sure he isn’t here right now?” I ask him.

“Quite sure. He’s currently on good terms with his wife—I aways know when he’s not, because he’ll start sending me a bunch of existential, gloomy texts and memes filled with dark humor. Then he’ll invite me over for a drink, and he won’t even finish one before he starts crying.”

I giggle at this softly. “Doesn’t sound like a very healthy relationship.”

“Healthy relationships take a lot of work and communication,” the man says. “They are definitely going through a rough spot, but I know they both love each other. I hope they work it out.”

“You seem like a good friend,” I say as I follow him briskly.

“Not that good if I’m about to break into my buddy’s office and help myself to his stuff,” he says with a grin. “But I figure he owes me this, after all the hours of free therapy I’ve provided.”

When he reaches the door, he punches a code into the keypad just above the handle, and then opens the door. He guides me into the room.

I like the sensation of doing something a bit naughty, sneaking into someone’s office when they aren’t there. I never do this sort of thing.

“What on earth...” I say, looking around. “There’s a disco ball. And table hockey. Is that a pinball machine? This is more than a few basic comforts.”

“It’s his secret man cave,” the stranger says as he closes the door behind us. “Not bad for a hospital date, right? Oh, check this out. He’s also got booze—lots of booze.”

“I probably shouldn’t drink much,” I tell him as I study the table with the crystal canisters filled with amber liquid. “I will have to drive my mom home to Silver Mountain after this.”

“Oh, you’re from Silver Mountain?” the man comments as he walks over to the mini kitchen. “Me too. Aha! Good news. There’s chocolate milk in the fridge, if you wouldn’t prefer a more adult beverage.”

“Maybe a tiny bit adult wouldn’t hurt,” I tell him as I gaze at all the spirits. “But I do love chocolate milk.”

“Challenge accepted,” he says, cracking his knuckles. “One chocolate milk martini coming right up.”

I watch as the handsome man gathers his ingredients from the fridge, and brings them to the bar. He selects a few bottles, and pulls out a cocktail shaker. “Alexa,” he calls out. “Play date night music.”

I can’t help laughing as romantic music begins to play in the room, and the man begins to pour chocolate milk into the cocktail shaker. He follows with a splash of Kahlua and vanilla vodka, attempting to twirl the bottles and hum along with the music before each pour. He then discovers that there is also Bailey’s Irish Cream and a chocolate liqueur in his friend’s collection. With a stylish flourish, he adds even more ingredients to his concoction.

What is this adorable alchemy?

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