Page 35 of The Desired Nanny
“You’re anti-government?”
“You’re not listening, Track Star. I’m anti-corruption.”
“Hm. Fair enough.”
“Listen, I’ve kept my grandma waiting long enough, and she’s probably crawling up the walls and ceiling like that old lady fromLegion. Do you need help finding a room?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hold you up, and yes, I’ve managed to get a little turned around. Do you mind showing me the way?”
“Not at all. Keep up, or one of these grandmothers will snatch you up and sell you off to the highest bidders.”
“The highest bidders?”
“Their nieces and granddaughters.”
Chapter Eleven
Kiyah
“You’re looking for the skilled nursing unit?”
He smiled tightly. “Unfortunately. My wife was involved in a hit-and-run accident a little over a month ago. She survived, but she’ll never be the same again.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you. It’s been rough, but what can you do?”
“Did they find who did it?”
He smiled softly and shook his head. “They didn’t. The cops have reached a dead end in the investigation, and at this point, I’ve stopped calling to ask for an update. And don’t even get me started on the insurance companies. A new bill comes in every day that the insurance company neglected to pay, and then I’m on the phone for hours, being bounced around and on hold. Don’t look at me like that.”
“Uhhh, like what?” I asked, heading in the correct direction of the skilled nursing unit. He followed close beside me.
“Like you can’t believe a wealthy man is complaining about money. The money isn’t the issue. It’s the principle. If you pay for something, you expect to get your money’s worth.”
“I can’t argue with you there. What’s the room number again?”
“Room 203D.”
A minute later, we stood in front of Room 203D across from the nurses’ station.
“All right, Pistol Pete, this is where we part ways,” I said, trying to hand the toddler to his father, but he wasn’t having any of it. He held onto my hair tighter and stuck his face in the crook of my neck.
“I’m so sorry,” Todd rushed to apologize as he tried to disentangle us. “This is so embarrassing,” he said, his cheeks turning bright pink.
“Stop apologizing. I’m sure he just misses his mother,” I commented as I tried to figuratively shake the clingy child off. “Ow, yeah, okay, that’s some grip you got there, Pistol Pete,” I said, wincing as he attempted to rip my hair out of my scalp.
Damn, this little boy pulls harder than Grant!
“I guess he has to go home with you now,” Todd joked, trying to make light of the situation.
Yeah, showing up with a surprise baby will blow over really well with my husband.
“I’m starting to think this was your plan all along,” I said, finally freeing myself.
“You got me,” he said, chuckling warmly, trying to regain control of his son. “I’m sorry again about your hair.”
“It’s fine,” I replied, raking my fingers through the pressed strands, freeing them from the knots and tangles. I wouldn’t dare remove my baseball cap and reveal my curly roots. Grant had sweated my fucking silk press out. Thankfully, I received text confirmation after he arrived at work that he had scheduled another hair appointment at my favorite salon for Thursday before the rehearsal dinner.
