Bad Nanny(14)

“I'm getting a master's degree in biostatistics, but I've got a whole year left and the few grants and loans I get won't cover everything the kids and I need.” Brooke closes her eyes for a moment, a heaviness pulling at her shoulders. “I … have a job lined up, but I'd really like to get this one instead. It makes half what the other does, but …” She pauses and shakes her head to clear the thought. “Forget it.” She slaps her palms on the table. “You ready to walk down to the pond?”

I shrug my shoulders and lift my fingers to my lips, whistling for my brother's brood. The twins shockingly decide to show up, but Kinzie … she looks over at me and then turns away to talk to some other girls near the slide.

Oh fuck that.

“One second.” I get up and jog my way over to her, sending the other girls scattering from the base of the redwood tree stump where the slide is located. When my niece looks up at me, it's with a certain level of distaste on her features. I wonder briefly if she's this big a brat all the time, or if it's just me that brings it out of her. “Come on. We're doing an activity, just like you asked. Let's go.”

“I'm happy playing here. I don't want to go meet your new girlfriend.”

“Aaaaand earlier, you told me you hated the park and didn't want to come at all. Now, I'm telling you we're leaving. Let's skedaddle.”

“No.”

I blink down at her in her blue sundress, white tights, and sneakers. Her outfit choice, not mine.

“What do you mean, no?” I ask as Kinzie glares up at me, brown pigtails ruffling in the breeze.

“I mean I'm not going with you. You're not my dad. I don't have to listen to you.”

I stare down at her for a minute and then reach out and tuck her under my arm, dragging her away from the slide while she screams. Parents turn to look, but I'm not hurting the kid. I'm just letting her throw a fit in my arms.

When I get back to Brooke, it's starting to sound like Kinzie's about to have a seizure or something. My new friend looks up at me with a grimace on her face as I try to smile my way through this.

“Maybe we should reschedule?” she asks, and I feel my jaw clench. Great. But I take a breath and nod, trying to talk over my niece's violent screeches. Even when I put her down, she doesn't stop, throwing herself into the grass as I fight the urge to toss her over my knee and spank her. Apparently, Mercedes doesn't believe in spankings. Maybe that's what got the kid to this point in the first place?

“Sure. Um, same time tomorrow?”

“You mean, after school tomorrow?” she asks and I snap my fingers. That's right. School. Blessed, blessed school. Of course, I'll still have the baby, but maybe I'll be able to take a bathroom break in peace. And when I say bathroom break, I mean jerk off session. Maybe with a certain brunette in mind to perk me up a little?

“Sounds good. Good luck at your interview, okay?” Brooke nods and smiles as she moves away and I'm left with a weeping pile of child that I have no fucking clue what to do with.

Fan-flippin'-tastic.





The interview doesn't go well, not even with the blessing of that Tattooed God of a man that I can't get out of my mind. And for some reason, he seems determined to hang out with me. Three days into the week, I'm sitting at the park with him again, talking about something stupid and pointless and fun. It's a good way to get my mind off the fact that … tonight I have to start my new job.

The job I really didn't want. But what I can do?

Panic rises in my throat, but I choke it back, trying to focus on what Zayden's saying. He's surprisingly good at saying a lot without telling me a damn thing. I honestly don't even know any of his kids' names—or if they even are actually his kids. I mean, they must be, right? He's with them everyday.

“I am not a nerd,” he's telling me, but I don't think he actually believes that. Zayden folds his hands behind his head, his dark hair spiked up and pretty in the sunlight. He's a handsome guy, but he's got this silly, goofy attitude to go along with his cursing and his tattoos that makes me smile. I think I actually kind of like him. In a loose, normal, acquaintance sort of way that is. “Playing video games does not make somebody a nerd.”

“Playing video games, collecting action figures, wearing shirts with—” I wave my finger at the black Monster High tee he's wearing “—that on it, makes you a nerd.”

Zayden pinches the fabric of his outfit with two fingers.

“This is not mine. My shirt was wicked cool, but it got baby puke on it, so I improvised. This belongs to my brother.”

“I see,” I say, biting my lip and then pausing as I feel a buzzing against my thigh. I reach into the bag and pull out my new (really shitty but still expensive) phone, glancing at the caller ID.