“Not this time,” he challenged, sitting up straighter and praying Maisie was going to ask an easy question.
“Okay,” Maisie began. “Which number does every Major League Baseball player wear on April 15?”
Slater gave Evie a moment. “Do you know the answer?”
“Um…”
Confidently, he got to his feet, and Maisie called on him. “They all wear number 42 in honor of Jackie Robinson.”
“That’s correct! And another point to Team Bean!”
When he sat down, Evie was frowning. “That’s not fair. Of course you’d know the answer to that question. Your father’s a baseball player.”
Cupping his hand next to his ear, he leaned closer. “I’m sorry, that sounds like you didn’t have the answer and I did, and you’re just embarrassing yourself by making excuses.”
“Ugh…you don’t need to gloat.”
Chuckling, Slater sat back, pulled out his phone, and quickly tapped out a text.
Slater: Hey! If you’re working tomorrow, you’ll have to do it without Evie.
Slater: She’s going out on a hike or parasailing or something with me.
Slater: She lost a bet.
Milo: You can’t force her to go if she doesn’t want to.
Slater: She wants to go.
Slater: Plus, she’s kind of due a day off. The two of you have been working nonstop.
Milo: Who put you in charge of HR?
Slater: Funny. But I’m being serious. She needs a day off.
Milo: I don’t know why you’re telling me this because she already had the weekend off.
Milo: We talked about it already.
Slater: Yeah, she told me that, but I was just making sure.
Milo: Nora and I are heading to Manhattan with Axel and Maisie for the weekend. So you’re on your own.
Milo: We invited Evie, but she said she didn’t want to be a fifth wheel.
Slater: Smart girl.
Milo: I appreciate you hanging out with her. I felt bad leaving her here alone.
Slater: She’s a grown woman, dude. She doesn’t need anyone watching out for her.
Milo: You know what I mean. I didn’t want her to feel like we were all abandoning her.
“Hey! Gator! Focus!” Evie said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Maisie’s ready with her next question. Are you writing a book there or something?”
Shaking his head, he said, “Just give me a minute.
Slater: Gotta go. We’re at trivia night.
