Playing the Player

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  “That you set up,” Dad snapped. “He didn’t even do that part on his own.”

  “Sitting right here,” I chimed in. “Hearing every word.”

  They both gaped at me, like they’d forgotten I was there. I sighed and took a long drink of the liquid gold, preparing my argument.

  “I’m completely unqualified,” I said. “I’ve never babysat. I can handle little kids in small doses. But all day? With the crying and whining and peeing their pants?” I shook my head and tried to look disappointed in myself. “It’s just not a good fit. How ’bout I apply at Victoria’s Secret?”

  Mom narrowed her eyes. “Hilarious, Slade.” She took a sip of her coffee. “You’re going to this interview.”

  “For once, I agree with Slade.” Dad crossed the kitchen and refilled his mug.

  “Mike! What are you talking about?” Mom stared at him like he’d turned into an alien.

  Dad shrugged. “Slade’s right. He’s completely unqualified. I can’t figure out how you got Max’s mom to even consider—”

  “We’re friends,” Mom interrupted. “Book club. Bunco parties.” She waved her hand dismissively. “She trusts me. I’ve told her all about Slade.”

  Dad and I looked at each other, and I suspected we were thinking the same thing: If she really had told Max’s mom all about me, why would she give me an interview?

  “Look,” I said. “I get why you guys want me to get a real job. You’ve never made me work, other than the toddler swim lessons and lifeguarding, which were my idea, by the way—”

  “That’s what, a few hours a week?” Dad interrupted. “Since you’re only a substitute lifeguard this summer.”

  I ignored him, focusing on Mom instead. “You gave me a car when I turned sixteen. You give me a decent allowance. You don’t—”

  “Decent?” Dad interrupted. “Your allowance is more than I made while I worked my way through college.”

  I rolled my eyes. “As I was saying, you don’t make me pay for my car insurance. Or gas for my car.” I sighed. “So I get it. But I’d really like to choose what jobs I apply for.”

  Dad stroked his beard. “Karen, I believe our son is showing a modicum of sense. For once.”

  Mom got all blinky-eyed again, then took a bite of her cereal and chewed for a long time.

  Finally she spoke. “All right. I’ll make you a deal, Slade. I still want you to go to the interview. If Mrs. Gonzales doesn’t offer you the job, then you can apply for any job you want.” She frowned at me. “Except Victoria’s Secret.”

  I glanced at Dad, who shrugged. “I’d take the deal if I were you.”

  I nodded at Mom. “Deal.”

  My parents had zero faith in me, but they showed it in different ways. Dad attacked me head on. Bs should be As. Cs were unacceptable, even though I got them all the time. Making state in swimming was good, but why didn’t I medal?

  Mom was more subtle. “That’s great you got a B minus on that essay. But if you’d worked a little harder, it would’ve been an A. And by the way, how many laps did you swim today?”

  Honestly, they’d both be shocked if I got a job offer. On one hand, I’d like to shock them.

  On the other hand, actually getting the job sounded like a nightmare come true.

  Mrs. Gonzales shoved a cookie platter under my nose. I took one with brown sugar and cinnamon. Snicker strudels? No, that wasn’t right. I took a bite. Whatever it was, I liked it.

  “Slade, I’m so glad you’re interested in this job. Max just adores you.”

  Max played on the floor with his mountain of rubber dinosaurs. Judging from his suspicious expression, he didn’t adore me. I grinned at him, but he focused his attention back on his T. rex battle.

  Mrs. G. poured me a glass of iced tea. I started to drink it then noticed something weird inside the ice cubes. “Uh,” I held out the glass. “I think maybe there’s mold or something in the ice.”

  She smiled. “It’s crushed mint leaf. For flavor.”

  Wow. How did chicks come up with stuff like this? I took a sip. Not as good as Dad’s coffee, but not horrible.

  “So, the job is Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays, about nine hours a day, depending on our schedules,” said Mrs. G. “The kids go to church day camp on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so you’ll have those days off. We’ll cover all the expenses of course, for outings and lunches, etc. The pay is ten dollars per hour.”

  Two hundred seventy bucks a week just to hang out with a little kid? He couldn’t be that much trouble.

  “That sounds good,” I said, hardly believing the words coming out of my mouth.

  Mrs. G. smiled. “Your application was great, Slade. But can you answer a few more questions for me?”

  “Sure.” I reached for another cookie. They were way better than my mom’s nasty granola bars, which I only ate so I wouldn’t hurt her feelings.

  I’d filled the application with stuff I knew Mrs. G. wanted to hear. Like how much I loved kids (which was an exaggeration) and how I was CPR certified (which was true). And then I added a killer line about wanting a job that would be more meaningful than just working in the mall. Damn, I was good.

  “What would you do if Max started having a tantrum? Screaming and causing a scene in public?”

  I glanced at Max, who frowned at his mom. “Does he do that?”

  “Just tell me what you’d do.”

  Suddenly the T. rex was tossing toy raptors across the room.

  “Huh.” Offering the kid a beer to chill him out probably wasn’t the best answer. “Give him a cookie?” I took another bite. “They’re awesome.”

  Max and the T. rex stopped attacking the smaller dinosaurs.

  Mrs. G. frowned. “Well, that wouldn’t be my first choice. Maybe you could ask him to use his words.”

  “Um, isn’t he already using his words? If he’s screaming and stuff?”

  Mrs. G. gave me one of those fake mom smiles, the ones where you know they’re thinking all kinds of un-mom-like stuff, but won’t say it out loud.

  One point to Mrs. G.

  “Next question.” She brushed imaginary crumbs off her lap. “What if the house catches on fire?”

  Did Mom tell her I was a total moron? “Get Max outside and call 911 from my cell.”

  One point to me.

  “All right, Slade. This one’s important. Let’s say you and the other nanny get distracted and the kids—”

  “Wait, there’s another nanny? And did you say kids, plural?”

  She raised an eyebrow, like she was surprised I knew the word plural. What had my mom said about me, anyway?

  “Yes. You’ll be nannying with a…partner. She’s very experienced. Very responsible. She’ll be watching Max’s best friend, Gillian.” She hesitated, then whispered, “Gillian’s the one who might be throwing tantrums, not Max.”

  “Yay! Gillian!” Max’s T. rex did a somersault in the air.

  Another nanny? A girl, obviously, since who ever heard of a guy nanny, besides my mom and Mrs. G. Maybe she’d be hot. If not hot, at least cute. That would definitely make this babysitting gig more interesting. Depending on how well we hit it off—

  “Slade? Did you hear the question?”

  I blinked, refocusing on Mrs. G. “Sorry, I got distracted. Could you repeat the question?” I gave her my most sincere apology face, the one that worked on all my teachers when I zoned out in class.

  Mrs. G. passed me the cookie plate again. “So the question is,” she continued, “if you and the other nanny were busy and then you noticed the kids were missing, what would you do?”

  Damn. Was this the kind of stuff parents worried about? No wonder my parents had so many clients if people were this paranoid.

  “I’d start yelling their names. Run around looking for them.” I noticed Max watching me closely. He stuck his finger in his nose and started digging. Great. Why didn’t his mom ask me how to deal with that? Cayenne pepper on the finger. My grandpa did it to me and it worked. />
  Then again, Dad said the type of stuff Grandpa did was the reason he’d never run out of clients.

  “Um, check all their hiding places.” I took a bite of another cookie.

  “And how would you know those?”

  “From hide-and-seek,” Max piped up. He smiled at me, kind of shy. “He’d know where to look from playing hide-and-seek with us.”

  “You like hide-and-seek, buddy?” I returned his smile. At least his finger was out of his nose.

  Max nodded. “It’s my favorite game. Gilly’s, too.”

  I relaxed into my chair and grinned at Mrs. G.

  Point to Slade. And Max.

  “Well, Slade, you’ve answered my questions satisfactorily. And your mom vouches for you. So, if you want the job, it’s yours.”

  This job-hunting thing was cake. “So, about the other nanny?” I asked casually. “Who is she?”

  Mrs. G. stood up to clear the coffee table. “You’ll meet her on Monday. She’s a nice girl. Very organized. I think you go to the same high school.”

  Organized? Nice? Was that code for “troll”?

  Nah, she’d be cool. I could think of lots of hot girls who fit that description. And I supposed one of us had to be organized, to plan the kids’ field trips or whatever.

  This summer was going to rock. Easy money. Hanging out with a hot nanny. Maybe even hooking up with her, depending on how things went.

  Mom was a genius, but I’d never tell her that.

  Mrs. G. walked me to the door. Max followed, hovering behind his mom like a shadow. I kind of felt sorry for him. He was shy, and super serious. Maybe we could work on that over the summer.

  “Thanks, Mrs. G. I mean, Mrs. Gonzalez. I promise I won’t let you down.”

  Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “You can call me Mrs. G. And I know you won’t let me down. You and Trina are going to be perfect partners. I can tell.”

  My hand froze on the doorknob. I felt like I was in a nightmare where I had to run from the monster, but my legs wouldn’t work. “Did you say…Trina?”

  Mrs. G. was all smiles. “Trina Clemons. You know her from school, right? I’ll give her your cell number and email address. She can contact you with the plan for Monday.” She paused. “She has this binder full of great ideas for the kids.”

  I knew all about Bird Brain and her binder from hell. I might as well just stab myself in the eye with a fork. It would hurt less than the pain I was about to endure working with Trina. Damn it. I should’ve mentioned the cayenne pepper idea.

  “Bye, Slade,” Max chirped, hanging onto his mom’s leg. He grinned at me and I noticed his two bottom front teeth were AWOL. “I wanna play hide-and-seek with you.”

  I couldn’t back out. Not on the kid. “Sounds great, Max-man. You can show me your best hiding places on Monday.”

  I wondered how soon I could ask for a raise, because working with Bird Brain deserved hazard pay. One thing was for sure. She wasn’t going to boss the kids and me around like some tight-assed cruise director. Since I’d earned this job fair and square, this was going to be a partnership, not a dictatorship.

  I’d make sure of it.

  Chapter Three

  Slade

  Sunday, June 2

  Alex and I hung out at the country club pool. I watched the girls, he watched the guys. Between the two of us, not an inch of lounge chair went un-scoped.

  “This is, without a doubt, the best time of the year,” Alex said, as a guy who looked like he lived at the gym snaked by us in a Speedo.

  “Without a doubt,” I agreed, my eyes following two girls in skimpy bikinis.

  “So about this other nanny? Is she a Swedish exchange student? Russian? Tall and gorgeous?”

  I groaned and stretched out my legs, hanging them off the sides of the lounge chair.

  “Not exactly.” Trina was as exotic as Wonder Bread. She was soggy like that, too, sucking the fun out of everything.

  “Yeah? What’s up?” Alex raised his designer shades to squint at me under the bright Colorado sun. He already had a tan, and his hair looked like he lived on a beach, but I knew the streaks came from a salon.

  “Slade! Watch me!”

  I turned to see one of the kids I’d taught at the rec center. I waved as he cannonballed into the deep end. He popped back up, spitting water out of his mouth, checking to make sure I’d seen him.

  “Awesome, buddy!” I called out, giving him a thumbs-up. He returned the gesture then swam away toward his friends.

  “Bet you don’t even remember his name,” Alex said.

  “Ryan Marsh. Terrified when we started lessons, but swimming like a fish by the end.”

  Alex snorted. “Impressive.”

  “Yet I have no idea what brand of sunglasses you’re wearing. Now that’s impressive.” Alex had tried to give me a makeover a few times, but it always ended up with us starting a wrestling match in the dressing room and getting kicked out of whatever store we were in.

  He snapped a wet towel at me. “So tell me about the other nanny. Does she drool? Have fangs? Three eyes?”

  I might as well get this over with. “It’s Trina. You know, from school.”

  “Bird Brain?” He smirked. “Dude. You’re in for a crazy summer.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  We’d called Trina “Bird Brain” after she went on some Save the Geese rampage. It was the first of many rampages for her. If there was an underdog cause, she led the charge, always forcing boycott fliers on everyone, running fundraisers and bake sales.

  “At least she’s sort of cute,” Alex said. “Like a little fairy.” He snickered. “Not my kind of fairy. More like Tinker Bell.”

  I gaped at him. Was he high?

  “She is,” he insisted. “She’s got this waifish, dainty elegance thing going on.”

  “You’re so gay.”

  “No shit, Sherlock. I’m also a visual person, and some people are more interesting to look at than others. Trina’s interesting. Not like all the Barbie clones you go for.”

  “I know what I like.” I always had. Blonde. Tall. Tanned. I definitely had a type and Trina wasn’t it.

  It wasn’t just her appearance. She was wound so tight it would take Superman to unwind her. Not to mention that crazy binder that tracked her whole life. It made me want to hurl just thinking about it.

  “So when do you two start your nanny dates?” Alex slurped from his soda.

  “Tomorrow.” I groaned. “She’s already emailed me a schedule for the day. And texted me to make sure I got it.”

  Alex stretched his arms above his head. “This is going to be such an entertaining summer. I think I’ll send Trina a thank-you card. Maybe flowers.”

  “Shut up,” I growled. Maybe after a few days of hanging out with me, Trina would chill out. Alex said my aura relaxed people. I didn’t buy a lot of his New Age crapola, but I knew what he meant.

  Alex flicked his fingers over his cell screen and groaned. “Check it out.” He handed me his phone. “Tiffany posted a rant about Derek dumping her.”

  I scanned the screen. Lots of all-caps screaming and many, many exclamation points. “Sounds like Tiff got burned.”

  He shrugged. “Haven’t we all?”

  I stretched out my legs. “Not really, no.” Just the one time.

  Alex sighed next to me. “Whatever.”

  “I don’t do breakups, because I just do hookups. You should try it. Save you all that emo damage.”

  He chucked a piece of soda ice at me. “You only think there’s no damage. I’m the one they come crying to after you dump them.”

  I stared at him, surprised. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” He took off his shades and glared at me. “They all say they’re not going to fall for you, that they know what they’re getting into. But you spin your Slade spell and they fall in love. Then you lose interest and break their hearts. Honestly dude, it’s getting old.”

  I gaped at him. “Are you for real
?”

  He nodded. “I am. How ’bout you keep it in your pants this summer? Or—here’s a new concept—try to actually have a relationship that lasts longer than a week.”

  Anger flared in my chest. “What is up with you, dude?”

  He wouldn’t look at me. Alex had been my best friend since kindergarten. I didn’t get why he was judging me all of a sudden.

  “Look,” he finally said, turning his gaze to me. “I know when Kristen dumped you, your heart was totally broken. You were a wreck. But dude, you really need to mellow out the whole player thing.”

  I stared at my feet, unable to think of a reply.

  “Seriously Slade. Have you ever considered dating someone long enough to have a real relationship? Do you even see these girls as real people?”

  That pissed me off. “Of course I do. Look, the girls I hang out with are in it for the same reasons as me. None of them are looking for a fairy-tale romance, or whatever.”

  Alex snorted. “Right.”

  I clenched my fists, adrenaline shooting through me. “What the hell, dude? Why are you giving me crap?”

  He narrowed his eyes, but didn’t reply. I jumped up and dove into the pool, staying underwater for as long as I could. Lungs burning, I broke the surface. Alex reclined on his lounge chair, flipping through a magazine like nothing was wrong.

  I swam toward the other end of the pool, kicking furiously, as if that could push away Alex’s words.

  I was not a man whore. Did girls like me? Yes. Did I take what was offered to me? Yes. Did I ever turn them away, like if I thought they weren’t in it just for fun? Okay, so maybe that was more of a gray area. But I liked all of them. I did. When I was with them, I was with them.

  And when I wasn’t, well…I just wasn’t.

  A sleek, tanned body cannonballed next to me, showering me with water and pissing me off. I turned to the source and saw Alex, grinning.

  “Take it back,” I demanded.

  “What?”

  “You called me a man whore.”

  He looked surprised, then he laughed. “No I didn’t. But I wish I had. How ’bout I just call you bro-ho for short? Since you’re hardly a man.”

  I splashed water at him as hard as I could.