“No. And I hope I don’t find out.” A protectiveness roars to life in my heart. The only time I’ve experienced something close is when I got the call that my brother kidnapped his and Whitney’s kids. The old emotion clings to my face, seeking sunlight after remaining buried for so long.
“You can’t fight a second grader, Alice. Certainly not when you nanny for a cop.Especiallywhen he’s already arrested you once.”
“Bah.” I wave off the warning. “I’m not going to get arrested again.”
“Miss Alice, you’ve been arrested?”
I make big eyes at my best friend, then paste on an innocent smile and turn in my seat. “Of course not. Your daddy was just showing me his handcuffs.”
Nellie squints, cocking her head. “He told me they’re not a toy.”
“They’re not. And you should definitely never get arrested.”
To my relief, Lucy tugs at Nellie’s arm, and she abandons her inquisition.
“Liar,” Whitney coughs the word into her free hand.
“Hey, I have an image to uphold. I’m going for nanny of the year over here.”
Whitney’s contemplative look seizes my breath.
“I’d say you’re on track to succeed.”
I dust an imaginary piece of lint from my black jean shorts. “Don’t speak too soon. I have a very important night ahead. If I don’t live up to her expectations, this gig could go south.”
“I’m not sure about that. I think Sutton likes having you around.”
I give my bestie an assessing glance. “Are you feeling okay? Sutton doesnotlike having me around. He hates me.”
“I don’t know…” She stares into the corner of the room. “Sutton’s never been much of a talker, but the one thing we’ve all noticed he absolutely does not want to talk about is you.”
I throw out my hand, careful not to smudge my nails. “Because he hates me.”
“Because he doesn’t hate you. Or so I suspect.”
“You’re wrong.”
A bitter laugh fights to the surface. My lips remain clamped. One thing I find myself particularly talented at is reading men. Distinguishing when someone is into me is not a tough endeavor, and Sutton is sonot.
“I’m pretty sure he’d rather fuck my cactus than even think about entertaining positive feelings for me.”
The nail tech shoots me a dirty look as the clippers slip and remove a chunk of my cuticle.
“Ouch! Be careful.”
“Slipped.” She shrugs, pinning me with an innocent stare. She goes back to shaping for a minute or two before announcing, “All done.”
“Time for a pedicure. It’s been too long.” I check the young girls to my right. “How are you doing, Nellie? Almost time for your toes?”
Her nail tech nods. “Both of you can follow me.”
“Chat later.” I touch Whitney’s shoulder.
“We have all evening,” she singsongs, letting me know the conversation isn’t over. For her.
For me? I don’t need to talk about Sutton and his nonexistent feelings.
Not ever.
