Five minutes? I wouldn’t give her five seconds.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Trina
Sunday, July 28
I’d spent the past week doing lots of soul-searching, when I wasn’t dealing with two kids who missed Slade almost as much as I did. I rode my bike aimlessly, listening to music, but I had to be careful which music, since so much of it reminded me of Slade. I practiced swimming at the rec center, always first making sure his car wasn’t in the parking lot.
I spent time at the shelter with Sharon, who was full of sad smiles and reassurances that even though my heart was broken, some day it would be whole again. I didn’t believe her.
Even though we were over, I still wanted the chance to apologize to him. To let him know how wrong I’d been to take the secret deal, and how sorry I was. I knew I couldn’t undo my mistakes, but I wanted to tell him one last time that none of my time with him had been a charade like he’d accused.
But he wouldn’t give me the time of day, even though Alex had argued with him and Desi had blown up his phone with texts and calls.
So that’s why I was sitting on his front porch, waiting. His parents were gone; I’d texted his mom to make sure of that before I came over. The fading warmth of the setting sun on my skin comforted me as I tried to convince myself this wasn’t an insane idea.
Alex texted me that they were at the pool, which closed at eight, so Slade should be home soon. I was grateful that Alex was my ally. He’d explained to me about the bet, that it had never been about an actual hookup. And I believed him.
I leaned back in the wicker chair and closed my eyes, clutching the envelope. It was a last-ditch effort to let Slade know how I felt. At least after I gave it to him I could walk away knowing I’d said my piece.
The roar of his car in the driveway startled me. My eyes flew open and locked with his as he turned off the engine, staring at me. We stayed like that for a long moment, then he flung open the door and stepped out. He stood there in all his sun god summer glory, but his expression was guarded and cold, more like the god of winter.
“What are you doing here?” He slammed the car door and stalked toward me, making my pulse beat out a panicked rhythm.
I stood up, ready to make my getaway. “Here.” I thrust the envelope toward him.
He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not reading any letters from you, Trina.” He raised stormy eyes to mine. “I threw away the other one. Never read it.”
My heart shrunk in on itself, and I wondered if I’d come on a fool’s errand after all. I bit my lip and took a breath. “This isn’t a letter. It’s for your binder.”
His eyes narrowed. “I threw that stupid thing away, too.”
Think, Trina. What’s your Plan B?
The Plan B genius stood in front of me, looking like he’d like to throw me in the trash, too.
“I know you hate me, Slade. And I don’t blame you, but I just…just wanted you to know how much…” But I lost my nerve, and my voice.
“How much I what, Trina? How much I screwed up as a nanny? Is that what’s in the envelope—your final report for my mom?”
His words cut me like shards of glass, lancing my already broken heart beyond what I could bear. “No,” I whispered, backing away from him. “No, that’s not…”
I dropped the envelope onto the wicker porch chair, and then turned away and stumbled down the steps, tears blurring my vision as I ran down the driveway to my car. I drove to a park, where I sat in my car and cried until there were no more tears left, because I’d shed them all for Slade.
Trina’s Nanny Binder – ADDENDUM
Tips from a Super Nanny (with a few cautions from the Slacker Nanny*)
1. Go with the flow.
2. Never let them see you sweat.
3. Rules are made to be broken (as long as no one gets hurt*).
4. Live dangerously (within reason*).
5. Laughter makes the tears stop.
6. Ice cream fixes everything.
7. When all else fails: baseball games and show tunes.
Tips from a Slacker Nanny
1. You don’t know everything, even if you think you do.
2. Even when you’re sure you can’t do something, you probably can, with a little magic. And a lot of help from your partner.
3. Spontaneity isn’t bad. It might even be epic.
4. Trust your partner. And never, ever lie to him.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Trina
Sunday, July 28th
The pounding on the door was loud enough to wake everyone in our building. I was glad Mom was at work instead of trying to sleep.
“Open up.” Slade’s voice was muffled through the door. “Or I’ll just keep pounding until the cops come.”
Oh my God. Was he here to yell at me some more? I’d been home for over an hour, nursing my wounded pride. Cautiously, I cracked the door. He stuck a leg through the opening and barged in, holding a plastic bag.
“I brought ice cream,” he said. “And movies with show tunes.”
I stared at him, speechless. He closed the door and smirked at me. “Super Nanny tips six and seven.” He walked into the kitchen. My body followed him while my brain tried to figure out what was happening.
“No baseball game today, so we’ll have to skip that one.” He opened the cupboard and grabbed two bowls. He glanced over his shoulder. “Is your mom home?”
I shook my head and watched a sly, sexy smile spread across his face.
“This is the first time we’ve been alone in your apartment, without your mom.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Trust me, BB?”
Trust him? I swallowed and nodded.
“Good.” He dug the ice cream scooper out of a drawer and filled two bowls, then handed me one. “Cop a squat, BB. We need to talk.”
He plopped in the overstuffed chair; I sank slowly onto the couch. He took a bite of ice cream, watching me while he ate.
“What are you…doing here?” I finally managed.
His spoon stopped halfway to his mouth. “I already told you. Ice cream. Movies with show tunes.” He set his bowl on the coffee table. “Obviously I read your binder addendum.” His lips twitched. “And your letter. About a hundred times.” He waited, but I didn’t respond because my pulse was pounding in my ears, drowning out his words. “BB? Did you hear what I said?”
He pulled his wallet from his pocket and unfolded a piece of paper. I recognized my geeky stationery. Looking closer, I saw that the page was covered with clear tape.
“You tore it up? I thought you said you threw it away.”
“Technically, I did both.” He pinned with me the deadly topaz gaze. “You’re lucky I didn’t flush it down the toilet.”
A tiny laugh escaped my dry throat.
“Did you flush my letter down the toilet?”
I shook my head, keenly aware that his stare wasn’t cold like it had been at his house; instead it was full of warmth, sparking a tiny flame of hope inside me.
“Burn it?” A glint of amusement flickered in his eyes, taking my breath away. I shook my head again.
“Give it to the kids to shred?”
Unexpected laughter bubbled out of me. “No.”
“Good.” His lips curved into the sexy grin I thought I’d never see again. “Go get it.”
My body tensed. “What?”
“Go get my letter. And a pen. Please.”
He watched me as I left the room, eating his ice cream, spoon clinking against the bowl. I returned to the living room, his letter clutched in my clammy hand. He’d moved from the chair to the couch. I hesitated, but he patted the cushion next to him. I sat beside him, but was careful not to make skin contact.
“How’s it been flying solo with the kids?”