Playing the Player(59)

I cringed as I remembered the last time the two of them had tried to fix me up. The guy had bailed on me ten minutes after we’d gotten to the party, claiming some vague illness. “You and Trey don’t exactly have a great track record for matchmaking.”

Desi’s sharp intake of breath shot across the phone line. “I just thought of something. Maybe he likes you a lot, and that’s why he didn’t try anything. I mean, everyone knows you’re not a party girl. So maybe he—”

“Stop.” I set aside the cotton balls and pulled the covers over my head. “Just stop. I don’t want to be this kind of girl.”

“What kind of girl?”

“The kind who spends hours and hours dissecting some guy’s every word and every move. Who analyzes him like he’s a science experiment.”

Desi laughed softly into the phone. “Sounds like both of you are behaving abnormally. Slade being a gentleman… You turning into obsesso-girl…”

I snorted and threw the covers off, sitting up straight. “Shut up, Desi.” I screwed the cap on the polish remover. “I never should’ve taken this job,” I mumbled, more to myself than to her.

“But just think how boring your summer would be without it. No crazy kids having public meltdowns, no Slade to drive you nuts, in more ways than one.”

“Exactly.” I tossed the wet cotton balls into the trash can. “I’ll call you tomorrow night,” I said. “After nanny duty.”

“What’s on the agenda for the kids tomorrow? Skydiving?”

I snorted. “He’d like that. But it’s my turn, so we’re going to the Molly Brown House.”

“Seriously? You don’t think the kids will be bored? You’re not doing the tea, are you?”

“No, I don’t think they’ll be bored,” I said defensively. “And neither does Slade. He liked the idea when I told him about it tonight.”

She giggled in my ear. “Oh girl. He told you that going to a museum about some dead lady was a good idea? I don’t care if he didn’t touch you. He’s got it bad.”





Chapter Thirty-Three


Slade


June 21, Friday

Gilly and Max danced around the light rail station making train whistle noises. I was glad they were excited, because I had a feeling this might be the best part of the day.

“Have you ever been to the Molly Brown House?” Trina’s eyes practically sparkled. She was stoked. I wondered if her eyes would ever light up like that for me.

“Yeah, I think so. Maybe a fifth grade field trip?”

“I love the history of the place. She was an amazing woman. Most people have no idea about her, other than the Titanic story.” She sighed. “She was so ahead of her time.”

I thought back to the movie. “She was the Kathy Bates one, right?”

“Yeah.” Trina bit her lip, smiling at me in a way that made me wish the kids were far, far away. I wondered what it be like to bite her lip. To nibble on it and—

“Here comes the train!” Gilly screamed.

“Woot woot! Train! Train!” Max shouted. They held hands and spun in circles, cheering with excitement.

I needed to focus. I grabbed the kids by their shirts and pulled them in. “You have to be careful, guys. Stick close to us. Or else.” We settled ourselves on the train, the kids sitting across from Trina and me.

“So, do you love that Titanic movie? Since you’re such a Molly fan?” I asked, shoving Max’s backpack under my seat.

“Not really.” She tilted her head, watching me curiously.

“Yeah? I thought every girl on the planet loved that old movie. All the romance, Leo and Kate—”

“It was okay. But not historically accurate. At least not the part about Molly Brown. She wasn’t even called Molly in real life.”

I gaped at her. “Wow. You’re like a walking encyclopedia.”

She lowered her eyes, and I hoped I hadn’t embarrassed her. Guess I wouldn’t tell her that I loved that movie. Nobody needed to know that.

She glanced out the window then turned back to me, her cheeks flushed. “I didn’t hate the movie. I’m not a cynic. But I would’ve liked—”

“More Molly? I mean, more Mrs. Brown. Less Kate and Leo?”

She laughed. “You make me sound heartless.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’re heartless.” My voice was low, so the kids couldn’t hear. Not like they were paying any attention to us anyway. Gilly chattered nonstop, wondering when the dancing waiters would show up like in the Polar Express movie, while Max frowned out the window, looking worried. He’d probably need a shot of lavender courage soon.

Trina glanced up at me from underneath her eyelashes, her eyes like melting dark chocolate. I wondered if maybe the train had passed through some sort of vortex where everything flipped upside down, because I felt dizzy and definitely not right side up.

WTF was wrong with me? Girls never made me feel like this. Never.

“Slade!” Gilly’s voice was sharp. “Tell Max this train does not go to the moon. But it does go to the North Pole.”

I tore my gaze away from Trina, taking a few seconds to remember where I was, and why.