Page 18 of Game On

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Who’s Logan?”

“Logan Cullen!”

Her eyes widened. “The hockey player?”

“Yes!” I cried. “He drove me here after the game since Veronica felt so sick she had to go home. I spent the game with his nephew on my lap. He needs a nanny.”

“But you need me,” Mari insisted.

“Yes, but…I don’t pay you, and he could pay you a lot. He doesn’t make as much as Blaise⁠—”

“He still makes way more than you and me combined.”

I opened my mouth and then closed it because she was right. His salary had to be decent because I saw Blaise’s finances. Although, I wasn’t sure of the difference between their contracts.

“Okay, I’ll talk to Veronica to get his number. He’s having a hard time and keeps firing his nannies.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why does he keep fucking them or something?”

I shook my head. “Veronica said they have WAG aspirations.”

Mari laughed. “Well, I’m gay as fuck, so he won’t have that problem with me!”

I laughed. “You’d be perfect.”

“That would be amazing. I need the money.”

I nodded. “Okay, where’s my baby girl?”

She nodded toward her bedroom door.

I crept inside and found my daughter sleeping in the crib we kept at Mari’s place. Rosie was getting so big every day, and soon she wouldn’t be my little baby anymore. She was already walking and talking more and more each day.

I lifted her up into my arms and said a quiet goodbye to my sister. I got Rosie into her car seat; miraculously, she didn’t wake up. My sister was magic with kids. I didn’t know how she did it.

I drove a few minutes away to my mom’s row house. Of course, she had waited up for me, even though I told her not to.

“It’s late,” Mom said with a raised eyebrow.

“I told you I’d be home late,” I said through gritted teeth.

Nobody did passive aggressiveness better than an Irish-American woman from Northeast Philadelphia. No one else was like Violet Mathews. Maybe moving out and struggling with bills would have been better than the judgment I faced from my mother on a daily basis.

Rosie stirred, and I took that as my opportunity to rush upstairs. She started to cry, and I tried to soothe her while I got her ready for bed. I put her down on the changing table and changed her diaper while singing to her. That usually calmed her down.

My heart was full when I set her down in her crib, and she went back to sleep. I watched her for a few moments, and it reminded me that all my struggles were for her. This little girl was my entire world, and I’d do everything in my power to make sure she was taken care of.

I should go to bed or study my notes for the meeting I had tomorrow with Blaise’s dad, Hal. He was going to hire me for bookkeeping at his bar, but I was certain he was only doing it because Blaise asked. I was desperate for more work, so I didn’t care why Hal wanted to hire me.

Instead of doing either of those, I powered on my laptop and started making a website. I could do this freelance thing. I didn’t have my CPA yet, but I could finish my credits later. I could do this. I had to do this. If only to prove to my judgmental mother that I wasn’t a total fuckup. That I wasn’t exactly like her.

Chapter Seven

LOGAN

“Did you figure out what you’re going to do?” Blaise asked as he raised the barbell above his head while I spotted him in the weight room.

“I don’t know, man. My neighbor can watch him during the day, but she works nights,” I said and rubbed a hand across my bearded jaw.