Playing the Player(16)

Time to make somebody’s day.





Chapter Eight


Trina


Tuesday, June 4

Five of us stood in the shallow end of the rec center pool: Three middle-aged ladies, one skinny, pasty-white twentyish guy, and me.

“Okay, everyone, give yourself a high five for showing up today!” The girl in the red lifeguard swimsuit was named Lindsay. She was so perky it made me twitch. Between post-nanny fatigue and my water phobia, I was a nervous wreck.

“Learning to swim as an adult”—she glanced at me—“or, um, when you’re not a little kid, can be scary. But it’s going to be awesome! We’re going to work together and get past your fear.” She glanced at two of the ladies, who could stand to lose a few pounds. “Swimming is fantastic exercise.” She glanced at skinny, pasty guy. “You can get a great tan when you’re a swimmer.”

I wanted to point out the dangers of skin cancer from too much sun, but was too nervous to speak. The older ladies shared a laugh over a whispered comment. I felt a twinge of jealousy they were bonding already, since I had no one to bond with. I glanced at pasty guy. No freaking way was I bonding with him.

“The first thing we’re going to do,” chirped Lindsay, “is get used to putting our faces in the water.” She beamed at us, plunked her face in the water to blow a mountain of bubbles, and resurfaced, grinning. “Everybody try it.” She clapped her hands. “You can do it!”

Oh my God. She was probably great at teaching toddlers, but come on. I needed someone older and bossy, who wouldn’t let me give into my fear. Someone way less perky.

The plucky housewives looked at one another and shrugged. One by one, they tentatively copied Lindsay, lowering their faces to the water and blowing bubbles. Pasty guy shot Lindsay a glare.

“Whatever.” He plunged his face underwater and jerked it out again, coughing and gagging as water spewed out of his nose and mouth.

“Oh my,” Lindsay glided over to him like a mermaid. “That was a great effort, but let’s slow it down a little bit.”

While everyone was occupied, I slowly lowered my face into the water, goggles on. I cautiously blew a few bubbles, intent on not making a fool of myself like pasty guy.

Lindsay appeared next to me when I stood up. “Awesome!” she held up her hand to high five me. Reluctantly, I raised my hand and her palm slammed onto mine. I winced, but forced a tight smile.

The rest of the lesson followed the same pattern. Plucky housewives clustered in the corner, laughing nervously and encouraging one another. Pasty guy standing off by himself trying to look cool but failing miserably. And me, trying to do exactly what Lindsay said, while simultaneously trying not to get extremely annoyed with her perkiness.

In the locker room after the lesson, I sighed in frustration. At the rate we were going, it would take me years to learn how to swim.

You have to crawl before you can walk, Desi had said when I told her about the lessons, after she’d stopped hugging me. She knew the real reason I couldn’t swim, and she’d always kept my secret.

When I got home from the rec center, I hung my suit in my closet to dry. I didn’t want my mom to see it and freak out.

Leftover lasagna in the fridge, Mom texted. I’m stuck working late again. Sorry.

Sounded like another night I’d spend curled up with a book. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do.

Except my nanny report.

I powered up my ancient computer. I’d been so upset yesterday after my day with Slade, and then Desi blowing me off at the mall, that I hadn’t written my first daily report. But now I was ready.

Nanny Notes – Museum Day

Slade’s job performance:

1. Forgot to buy Max lunch until we showed up. Lack of focus on job. Easily distracted.

2. Abandoned us during Gillian’s meltdown. Showed lack of teamwork.

3. Questioned my authority multiple times. Implied that I’m incompetent. Conduct unbecoming a nanny.

4. Did not speak to me on drive home from museum. Very unprofessional not to speak to partner.

I thought back to how I’d snapped at him in the gift shop. How I’d totally lost my cool and let him get to me. How I’d insulted him in front of the kids. I cringed when I remembered the kids looking at me in shock.

A dull ache throbbed behind my temples. No matter what I thought of Slade, and even though this whole “partner” joke was a charade, I shouldn’t drag the kids into it. I needed to keep up a good front for them. Plus, I needed them to like me, and listen to me, since it would just be me and them pretty soon.

I hated it when I lost control, because I hardly ever did. My whole life was built on discipline and schedules and never making mistakes. I dreaded what would happen if I let down my guard, even for a day.

Yet just one day with Slade had completely upset my equilibrium. What kind of shape would I be in by the time Friday rolled around?

I closed my eyes and reached for the lavender oil, unscrewed the cap, and inhaled deeply. Maybe I could get this stuff in pill form. Or just drink it straight out of the bottle.





Chapter Nine


Slade


Wednesday, June 5

Trina texted me at six a.m. Meet us at the library at 9:00.

What military base did she live on? I paged through my texts, and saw that she’d texted me last night, too. I’d been with Beth, the blonde from the pool, so I’d ignored my phone.