Playing the Player(10)

This time he definitely shuddered. He even stopped chewing. He swallowed, and then started choking. He grabbed his mug and took a swig of coffee, but that just made it worse.

I rushed to his chair and pounded him on the back. “Probably just went down the wrong pipe.”

He coughed harder, leaning over the table, crumbs flying from his mouth.

“I know the Heimlich.” I kneeled in front of him, worried by all his hacking noises. “Do you want me to do the Heimlich on you? Give me one finger for yes, two fingers for no.”

Still coughing violently, he waved four fingers at me, two on each hand.

Geez. Whatever. Not like I’d hurt him. I totally knew what I was doing from Babysitter First Aid class. I stomped away and opened cupboards until I found a glass, then filled it with water and handed it to him.

He took it from me, his hands shaking from coughing…and…laughter? Was he actually laughing? He took a few gulps of water and finally got himself under control.

“What’s so funny, Slade? I thought you were choking to death, but obviously not.” Too bad. That would’ve solved all my problems.

He set his glass on the table and pointed to his binder. “That is what’s so funny.” He glanced up at me, smirking. “You know I’ll never look inside that thing, right?”

I crossed my arms and glared at him. Even though I knew he was going to totally bomb as a nanny, I’d decided last night that I owed his mom the courtesy of doing my best to improve Slade this week. After all, she was paying me to let him tag along and learn from me.

His binder had multiple sections: child development, appropriate activities based on age, and another section with each day’s schedule, plus a section for notes on what he needed to improve. I’d put plenty of blank pages in that section.

“That binder may be your only chance of succeeding in this job, Slade.”

Based on the sudden anger flashing in his tiger-like eyes, maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say. I cleared my throat and tugged at the spikes of hair framing my face, painfully aware that my entire body was blushing.

“What I mean is, um, I’ve found that using a binder really helps me stay organized. So I thought maybe it could help you, too.”

There was so much I could teach him. But maybe I should dole it out slowly.

“Pop Tarts!” Gillian shrieked, appearing from nowhere and bouncing up and down in front of us. “Yes! And you have the chocolate ones. Can I have three?”

Slade laughed and started tearing open a foil package, but I put out a hand to stop him. I jerked my hand back when I realized I’d actually touched his arm. His gaze met mine and he raised a brow. I tore my gaze away from those stupid eyes of his and focused on Gillian.

“No, absolutely not.” I put on my best do-not-even-think-of-arguing-with-me face. “Your mom said no sugar.” She’d actually said one sugary treat a day was okay, but I figured none was even better.

Gillian’s face fell, and she turned her big blue eyes on Slade. “Puh-lease? I love them…and Mommy never buys them for me.” She faked a sniffle.

I rolled my eyes at Slade, who was trying to hold back laughter.

He closed the box. “Sorry, kiddo,” he said. “Gotta do what Trina says.”

Gillian pivoted toward me, glaring. “You’re not the boss of me.”

Barely two hours into our first day together and already she was staging a mutiny. I took a deep breath, refusing to look at Slade.

“Gillian, while you’re with me, I am the boss of you. It’s my job to take care of you while your parents are at work. And your mom said no sugar.” It would be easier to just let her have a Pop Tart, but I was terrified of how much crazier she’d be, hopped up on sugar.

She crossed her arms over her chest, still glaring at me.

“Go put your clothes on,” I said, “so we can get to the museum.”

“Hey, Gillian,” Slade interjected, “that’s a great idea. See, I kind of need your help.”

We both turned to Slade. His expression was all innocent and wide-eyed, and I watched in amazement as he turned the topaz eye power on full blast for a five-year-old. “See, Max doesn’t like me being the boss of him, either. So you could really help me out by getting dressed, and convincing him to get dressed, too.” He turned on the full wattage smile, complete with dimple. “Do you think you could do that for me, sweetheart?”

I watched her melt right before my eyes. Her glare morphed into a dazed smile. She nodded enthusiastically, then turned and ran out of the room.

Unbelievable. I didn’t know whether to thank him or throw something at him.

Then he turned the full Slade wattage on me. “Kids,” he said, shrugging like it was no big deal that he’d just completely defused both a mutiny and a meltdown.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Where’s the bathroom?”

He pointed to a doorway. Once inside the bathroom, I locked the door and dumped more lavender oil on my wrist.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.



The museum swarmed like a noisy hive of families and tourists. Max wanted to stay in Prehistoric Journey where all the dino skellies were, but Gillian wanted to spend her time at Space Odyssey, pretending she was an astronaut and controlling a fake Rover on the moon.

After listening to the kids argue, I told Slade we should split up. I made sure he had his cell turned on and we agreed to rendezvous at twelve thirty for lunch.