Playing the Player(8)

He raised an eyebrow. “We talking hookup?”

I flinched. “No way. She’s not my type.” I chewed on a fry. “But I’m sure I can get her to ratchet down the drill sergeant vibe.”

Alex nodded. “Okay, but we need to agree on criteria. I’ll need to see the new Trina in action. Going crazy, dancing on tables. Upside-down beer bong.”

I shook my head. “I’m not a miracle worker. But I bet you fifty bucks I can get her to chill.”

“Okay,” Alex agreed. “You know how Carson always throws that blowout end of summer party? Bring Trina to that. I want to see her dancing. Maybe even having a drink or two.” He leaned forward. “Swapping spit with somebody.”

My lounge chair suddenly felt too hot, and I had the urge to jump in the pool again. I stuck out my hand. “Fine. Fifty bucks says she’s the life of the party.” I paused. “Or at least not a total buzzkill.”

He shook my hand, laughing. “This is gonna be easy money for me, my friend. Not even you can unwind that girl.”





Chapter Four


Trina


Monday, June 3

As I pulled up to Gillian’s house, I sniffed the lavender oil on my wrist. A gift from my best friend Desi, the oil was supposed to relax me. She said it would help me stay chill around Slade. Yeah, right. I’d need actual Harry Potter magic for that, not some herbal placebo.

I glanced at the schedule on my cell phone. 8:30 a.m.: arrive at Gillian’s. It was 8:25. Perfect. I smiled with satisfaction as I slammed my car door.

Mrs. Forrester flung open the front door, looking harried. She hopped around on one bare foot while tugging a high-heeled sandal onto the other one. And she wore two different earrings.

“Trina, I’m so glad to see you. My God, what a morning we’ve had.”

I followed her into the kitchen where Gillian sat at the table, naked, eating Lucky Charms. She waved her dripping spoon at me.

I plunked down in the chair across from her? wondering where her clothes were.

“It’s naked day,” Gillian announced, reading my mind. “So you need to take off all your clothes.” She glared at my purple tank top and denim shorts.

Mrs. Forrester dropped a hand onto her daughter’s forehead. “She doesn’t have a fever,” she joked. “Just another typical day for Gillian.” She looked amused, but exhausted, as she tugged on her other shoe.

I nodded. “So,” I said. “The sooner you get dressed, Gillian, the sooner we can go meet Max.”

And his nanny. But I didn’t want to think about that until I was face-to-face with him.

Gillian shook her head. “Max has to be naked, too. I’m ready to go!” She streaked out of the kitchen, laughing, with her little Chihuahua, Spike, chasing after her.

Mrs. Forrester sighed heavily as she grabbed Gillian’s bowl from the table. She leaned against the kitchen counter, watching me. “You have no idea how much I appreciate you nannying for us.”

“I think maybe I do.” I tugged on an earlobe. “Um, your earrings don’t match.”

“Oh! Thanks for letting me know.” She smiled sheepishly and pulled them out of her ears.

“So do I get bonus cookies for working naked?”

Mrs. Forrester laughed. “She’s kind of going through a phase with the naked thing.” She bit her lip. “I hope she doesn’t try to strip at the museum today.”

I swallowed. “Is that a possibility?”

Mrs. Forrester shrugged. “Maybe. But we’ve been working with her on the importance of staying clothed. At least in public she’s moving away from total nudity to her swimsuit.”

I desperately wanted to sniff the lavender oil on my wrist, but I restrained myself.

“Anyway, I’m sure it’ll be fine. As long as she’s with Max, she’s happy.” Mrs. Forrester grabbed her purse from the back of a kitchen chair. “Her backpack’s around here somewhere, and you know where everything else is. Oh, I almost forgot.”

She dug through her purse and handed me a wad of cash. “That should be enough for the museum. Lunch. Something from the gift shop.”

Gillian bounced into the kitchen wearing sparkling red shoes and Disney princess underwear, but nothing else. “Gift shop!” she exclaimed. “Gift shop, gift shop!” She twirled around the kitchen, her red hair flying out like a fan.

“Mommy has to leave now, sweetie.” Mrs. Forrester leaned over to hug Gillian. “You behave for Trina.” She glared at her daughter. “And get dressed. Or else.”

Gillian giggled. “Or else what?”

“Or else I’ll make you wear clothes to bed.”

Gillian giggled maniacally and ran out of the room again, Spike at her heels.

“Good luck,” Mrs. Forrester said, backing out of the kitchen. “You’ll need it.”

I looked at my phone. 9:12. I pulled up my schedule. 9:00 – arrive at Max’s. My shoulders tensed; we were already late. I searched the lower floor of the house, calling Gillian’s name, but she was well hidden.

Running late, I texted Slade. Be there soon.

Like he’d even notice.

“Gillian!” I called up the stairs and heard a muffled giggle. I ran upstairs and into her bedroom. A dog’s wagging tail peeked out from under the bed. I dropped to my knees and lifted the dust ruffle. Gillian lay flat on the floor, her red sparkling shoes pointed toes up. Her eyes were closed.