Playing the Player(45)

Max clambered down the wall, Gilly close behind him.

“Let’s go.” I grabbed their hands and we ran toward the playground, not looking back.

I followed Gilly and Max up the slide’s ladder. My stomach dipped a little as I reached the top, but I told myself it was a lot easier than climbing a rock wall.

Max sat behind Gilly, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Slide train,” he giggled, then looked up at me. “Come on, Trina. You can be the caboose.”

I scooted behind them, wrapping my legs and arms around Max.

“Ready?” Gilly yelled over her shoulder.

“Ready!” Max shouted.

I made a train whistle noise and glanced across the playground. I saw Slade talking to the girls who’d been checking him out. He was smiling now, and laughing. He glanced at us just as we launched ourselves down the slide.

We spun in circles, the hot plastic burning my legs. We fell in a heap at the bottom of the slide, rolling on top of one another in the sand.

The kids jumped up, laughing. “Let’s do it again,” Max said.

“Sure,” I said. “But this time I get to be in front.” That way I could put on the brakes and prevent any more sand from going up my underwear.

“Where’s Slade?” Gillian asked.

“Over there.” Max pointed.

“He’s busy,” I said, refusing to look at him.

“Who are those girls?” Gillian asked.

I met her curious gaze. “Must be friends of his.”

She frowned at me. “But I thought you were his girlfriend.”

I forced a laugh. “No, sweetie. We’re just…um, well we’re work partners. Taking care of you and Max.”

She chewed on her thumb. “I think you should be his girlfriend.”

Maybe Gilly and Desi should get together, since they both lived in the same fantasy world.

“That’s not going to happen,” I said.

“Come on!” Max interrupted our relationship analysis. “Last one to the ladder is a stink bomb.”

I snuck one last glance at Slade. One of the girls had her cell out, and I knew they were exchanging numbers.

No doubt he’d be hooking up with her later, probably tonight.

I jogged to the slide, determined to ignore Slade for the rest of the day.



Nanny notes: Park

CONS: The entire day. The other nanny’s major attitude problem.

PROS: Zilch.





Chapter Twenty-Four


Slade


Tuesday, June 18

I woke up hungover. Even worse, I felt something I wasn’t used to feeling.

Regret.

I’d never felt that after hooking up with a girl, especially when she was the one chasing me, but today was different. Not only did I never want to see the girl from the park again, I most definitely did not want to face Trina at the swimming pool.

Not that she’d know about last night.

But I knew.

I wanted to stay in bed and sleep all day, but I couldn’t. I’d promised Lindsay to be her sub, and I couldn’t bail.

Unfortunately, Dad was already in position at the kitchen table, coffee in one hand, New York Times in the other. The guy was as predictable as the sunrise.

“You were out late last night.”

I ignored him and poured myself a huge mug of coffee.

“Teaching another swim lesson this morning?” he asked my back.

“Yep.” I refused to turn around. I wasn’t interested in facing the inquisition.

“How’s the nannying going?”

I shrugged, closing my eyes to block out the image of Trina’s hurt expression yesterday when I’d been so cold to her.

Dad’s sigh was loud enough to wake the dead. I ignored him and left the kitchen. I’d stop at Mickey D’s on my way to the rec center. I didn’t need his disapproval shaming me all morning. I was doing a good enough job of that myself.

I got to the pool five minutes early, a record for me. The ladies were already there, and so was Skinny Guy, but Trina wasn’t. I glanced at the clock. She still had a couple of minutes until we started.

“Hey, gang.” I went into entertainer mode. I needed to snap out of my funk, and I had some new ideas to try out. Something I hoped wouldn’t seem condescending.

“Everybody warm up,” I said. I watched the clock anxiously. 10:06. “Take a kickboard,” I said, tossing them into the water. “We’re going to work on breathing again today. We’ll stay in the shallow end so you can focus on breathing without worrying about, uh—”

“Drowning?” joked Nancy, the one who always wore the orange swimsuit.

I grinned at her. “Come on, Nance,” I said. “Nobody’s going to drown.”

I showed them what I wanted them to do, holding the kickboard out in front of me and dipping my head in and out of the water, turning to one side to breathe.

“If you’re right-handed, you probably want to turn to the right to breathe,” I said. “But try it both ways and see what feels natural.”

I watched them, keenly aware that Trina was still AWOL.

Regret and embarrassment about my behavior yesterday, and last night, rose like bile in my throat. Things hadn’t gone very far with the girl from the park, but I still felt like crap. Like I’d betrayed Trina somehow, which didn’t even make sense.