Playing the Player

by Lisa Brown Roberts

“You sure?” We weren’t even close to PDA yet. This was so different from all my other dates. She was so different from all my other dates.

  “Yeah. This was…nice. I’ve never been on this trail at night.”

  Our eyes met, and I thought about kissing her again, but I told myself to take it slow so I wouldn’t scare her away. We turned and headed back toward my car.

  The last time I’d taken a girl out to dinner and not gotten at least a little action was….uh…never?

  But after I dropped Trina off, I realized I was okay with how our night ended.

  More than okay.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Trina

  Thursday, June 20

  “Spillage. Now.” Desi’s voice was sharp in my ear. “Did you have to beat him off with a tire iron? Protect your honor with that mace you always carry?”

  “Hilarious, Dez. No, none of the above.” I sighed into the phone. There’d been a few times when I’d thought he might kiss me, but I’d obviously misread his signals. “He was a perfect gentleman,” I muttered, remembering Alex’s comment.

  What was wrong with me, anyway, if the most notorious playboy in school didn’t even try to make a move? I sat on my bed and attacked my chipped toenails with a cotton ball soaked in polish remover. I wished my feelings about Slade would disappear as easily as this nail polish.

  Desi snorted in my ear. “Maybe he’s got the flu?”

  I tossed my pillow off my bed. “Aren’t you the one always telling me I should give him a chance? That there’s a decent guy hiding underneath that man whore reputation?”

  “Yes. And it’s true. But I thought…I mean, dinner and then walking under the stars? Not even one little kiss?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it? I’m not his type. At all.” I sighed heavily and started working on the toenails on my other foot. “I mean, we knew I wasn’t, but—”

  “Just hold on, sister. We need to analyze this. Let’s not forget him giving me the third degree about you at the mall. Also, Slade isn’t going to waste his time on someone he’s not interested in. You should see him at parties, the girls throwing themselves—”

  “Hello? Still listening. Confidence plummeting. Insecurity hitting the stratosphere.”

  Her laugh bubbled in my ear. “Do you joke with him like that? Because he’s really freaking smart. You’ve figured that out by now, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe I should ask Trey to ask Slade—”

  “No!” I shrieked. “Do. Not. Tell. Trey.”

  “But Trey adores you. He’s always wondering who he can hook you up with.”

  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.

  Max crossed his arms defiantly. “I thought you said this was an adventure day.” He glared at me.

  “It is, buddy. An awesome one. We’re on the light rail, right?”

  He pouted. “But I wanted to go to the moon. Lik
e in that book about the moon train.”

  I looked at Trina helplessly.

  “But in the book,” she said quickly, “all the kids fall asleep on the train. You’d miss all the fun if you fell asleep, right?” She leaned across the gap between the seats and ruffled his hair. “Besides, we’re going downtown. That’s an adventure in itself.”

  The kids wore matching suspicious expressions.

  “Will there be rides?” Gilly asked. “A Ferris wheel?”

  “Popcorn and candy?” Max’s voice was hopeful.

  “Oh, yeah!” Gilly chimed in. “And a gift shop. I want a stuffed animal this time. A really huge one, even bigger than me.”

  I seriously doubted there’d be a Molly Brown stuffed doll.

  The kids watched us expectantly and Trina turned to me, anxiety etched on her face. If only I’d been listening to her last night. I could’ve suggested something else, something with more kid-wow factor.

  But I’d been too distracted by the idea of kissing her. Even now, at the very moment when I should be saving the day somehow, what I really wanted was for the kids to disappear with some substitute Mary Poppins so that I could focus on Trina, and that lip she kept biting, and her purple toenails, and—

  “I’m sure we can find snacks somewhere.” Trina turned away from me to the kids.

  “Maybe on the Sixteenth Street Mall,” I said, willing the sparkle to return to her eyes.

  “I hate malls,” Max announced, his voice inching up the whiney Richter scale.

  Trina sighed heavily next to me, and I wanted to touch her, to relax her and let her know the day would be fine. It would work out, like it always did, though there might be a few glitches. Maybe more than a few, based on the kids’ expectations and the reality they were about to encounter.

  “It’s not like the mall you go to with your mom, Max,” I said. “It’s outside. It’s a street you can walk on, that cars can’t drive on.” I grinned at him. “With a shuttle train that goes from one end to the other.”

  “And it has pianos you can play,” Trina chimed in.

  “Pianos?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. It’s an art project. Artists decorated a bunch of pianos, and they’re placed along the mall randomly. Anyone can play and sing, or whatever.”

  “Huh. That’s cool.”

  “I can play ‘Chopsticks,’” Gilly announced.

  “Me too,” Max elbowed her. “And ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.’”

  I grinned at Trina. “Sounds like a plan.”

  She took a deep breath. “We can walk to the Sixteenth Street Mall after the museum. I’m glad you thought of it.”

  “Museum?” Max piped up, smiling for the first time since we got on the train. “Are we going to see the dinosaurs again?”

  “Moon rover!” Gilly exclaimed, bouncing in her seat.

  Crap.

  “Uh, no,” Trina’s voice was soft. “It’s a historical museum. About a famous Colorado woman who lived here about one hundred years ago. She was amazing. She used to—”

  “A museum about an old woman?” Gilly tilted her head. “What’s in it?” She frowned. “Is it a boring one? With old-lady clothes and hats?”

  Trina sighed next to me. “Well, some of that, but—”

  Gilly glowered at us. “Who cares what people wore in the old days? I saw some movie where ladies had to wear dresses to swim. That’s dumb.”

  “It was different then, Gillian,” Trina said. “Standards have cha—”

  “I’m never wearing a dress to swim.” She frowned at Trina. “And you can’t make me.”

  “I never said I would. Your swimsuit is fi—”

  “Boys are lucky,” Max interrupted. “We don’t even have to wear shirts in the summer when it’s hot outside.”

  “That’s not fair,” Gilly growled. “I hate that stupid rule. If it’s hot today, I’m taking my shirt off. I don’t care if it’s public or not.”

  I felt all the air whoosh out of Trina as she sagged next to me.

  “Nobody’s going shirtless today.” I pointed at both kids. “No shirts means no candy. Or gift shops.”

  They stared at me open-mouthed.

  “You’re mean, Slade,” Gilly said, kicking at my legs. “Just because you’re a boy and don’t have to wear clothes in the summer.”

  “Everybody has to wear clothes in the summer, Gilly.” I gave her my knock-if-off glare, but she didn’t flinch.

  A woman across the aisle tried unsuccessfully to hold in her laughter.

  “You can swim naked,” Max said. “I heard my dad say so. I think it’s called skippy dipping.”

  Trina’s laughter bubbled out, making my skin tingle.

  “Skinny-dipping, Max. It’s called skinny-dipping.” She darted a glance at me, and my stomach did that weird thing again.

  “But what if you’re fat?” Gilly asked. “What’s it called then?”

  “It’s not nice to call people fat, Gilly,” Max scolded, sounding just like Trina.

  “That’s true.” Trina glanced at me again, the sparkle back in her eyes. “And no one’s going skippy dipping today.”

  Gilly examined us closely. “Not even you guys?”

  Trina and I both froze like statues, not daring to look at each other. I wondered if she was fantasizing about the same thing I was. Probably not.

  “Denver Convention Center,” the recorded voice announced over the speakers.

  “This is our stop,” Trina stood abruptly, and the kids slid off their seats, chattering with excitement.

  The doors whooshed open and we emerged onto the street, cars whizzing by, honking their horns, the air reeking of exhaust fumes and stale urine.

  “Ew,” Gilly said as the train glided away. “Downtown smells bad.”

  Trina folded her arms. “Downtown smells like life, Gilly. People and cars and food and—”

  “Throw-up,” Max interjected, pointing to a nasty spot on the sidewalk.

  Trina raised her face to the sky and closed her eyes. I couldn’t tell if she was holding in tears or laughter.

  “Yep, buddy, that is definitely puketastic,” I said, grabbing his hand. “Let’s get moving. We don’t want to miss the tea.”

  “Tea?” Gilly looked between Trina and me. “Like a tea party?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

  “I don’t like tea,” Max declared as we crossed the street. “It’s gross.”

  “My mommy drinks iced tea,” Gilly said as we headed up Colfax Avenue. “But she puts grown-up stuff in it, so I don’t get any. She calls it Mommy’s special tea.”

  “My dad has a drink like that,” Max chimed in. “I tried it once, but it was disgust-o-rama.”

  “You think everything is gross, except chocolate milk.” Gilly argued with Max as we walked up Colfax, dodging panhandlers, tourists, and office workers.

  Trina sighed. “Lucky for you guys, we’re just doing the tour today, no tea party.”

  “How long do we have to walk?” Max demanded.

  Trina wiped her forehead. It felt like it was a hundred degrees outside. I hoped the kids could hang in there. It was a great day for a swim. I glanced at Trina, wishing I could suggest it.

  “A few more blocks,” she said, tugging on Gilly’s hand.

  It was more than a few blocks, making me think we should’ve just driven instead of taking the light rail detour, but finally we stood in front of the looming stone house.

  “Let’s go to the gift shop first,” Gilly said.

  “Yay!” Max cheered. “Do you think they’ll have dinosaur toys?”

  “Guys! Stop!” Trina snapped. We all shut up, and stood at attention, staring at her guiltily.

  “Sorry, I just…” She paused and took a deep breath. “I just want to make sure everyone is ready. We have to be on our best behavior.” She stared intently at Gilly. “This is a public place, Gilly. You know what that means.”

  Gilly’s face fell, and she stared at her sparkling red shoes. “I know,�
� she whispered. “No naked time. No singing. No dancing.”

  “Maybe you should tell Desi and Trey those rules next time they to go a party,” I stage-whispered to Trina. For a second, I thought she might lose it again, but she bit her lip, hiding a smile.

  She put her hands on her hips, her gaze sweeping over us while she morphed into bossy Bird Brain. But it didn’t bug me today. It was sort of…cute.

  God, I was toast. Burned beyond recognition.

  “The ladies who do the tours sometimes dress like Molly Brown, so no making fun of their clothes,” Trina warned.

  Gilly bounced on her toes. “I like dress-up. Can I dress up, too?”

  “Maybe later.” She cast me an anxious look, then continued. “We’ll do a tour first. We’ll hear about Molly’s life and some of the awesome stuff she did.”

  “Like what?” Max demanded, his face cloudy.

  “Was she an astronaut? Did she sing on American Idol?” Gilly’s expression was hopeful. Poor kid.

  Trina shot me a pleading glance before regaining her composure. “Even better. She survived a horrible shipwreck. Lots of people died, but she didn’t. Once she was in the lifeboat, she got in a big argument with one of the ship’s officers. He said women weren’t strong enough to row the lifeboat, that they’d get sucked into a whirlpool and drown. Molly threatened to throw him overboard if he didn’t shut up. So he shut up, and everyone in her boat made it.” She glanced at me. “The guy was a pig, obviously.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Why are you looking at me? I’d never say that. I’d tell everyone to row their asses off, including the chicks.” I grinned.

  She rolled her eyes and turned back to the kids. “Anyway, that’s why she has the nickname The Unsinkable Molly Brown.”

  “So she was a pirate!” Gilly exclaimed. “Like Captain Jack Sparrow.” She glanced at Max. “I love him. But I hate that jelly monster. The one with the heart in the jar.”

  Max frowned. “Captain Jack’s weird. But my mom likes him.”

  “Guys,” I interrupted, laughing. “Molly Brown was not a pirate. Zip your lips and listen to Trina.”

  Trina stared at the ground, her shoulders shaking, and for a second I was terrified she was crying. Then she raised her face to mine, and I saw that she was laughing. Our eyes met and I felt a jolt of connection shoot between us.