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Grant guffawed. “Let me guess. Being a manny isn’t what you thought it would be? Gee, that’s a surprise.”
“Shut up.” A cabbie honked beside him, and Blake moved out of the way for a biker.
“Where are you now?”
“On my way to her place. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Should I say I told you so?”
“Say it and die,” Blake muttered.
Grant chuckled. “So, turn around. Come back to work. Who cares what the old snobs think?”
Blake tipped his face to the sky, praying for patience. Having to defend Jen and her family to Grant was starting to get a little old. “I didn’t call because I’m coming back already. I need some advice.”
“What about?”
“Kids. This woman’s kids are maniacs. Wild is an understatement.”
“You saw them that day in the coffee shop. I told you—”
“Would you forget about what you told me and help me now?” Blake snapped. “I need a pep talk and some tips.”
Grant laughed. “What on earth do you think I know about kids? I’m single, remember?”
“You dated that chick that one time that had a kid.”
“Yeah, for like three months.”
“Grant . . .” Blake’s voice cracked with desperation. He eyed Mel’s dreary building as he approached like a man headed to the gallows, which he basically was.
“Fine. First of all, she has triplets, so forget the usual tactics. Those all go out the door. The way I see it, with multiples, you have like a hive mind going.”
Blake pulled a face. He wasn’t wrong. “Go on . . .”
“It’s like a pack of wild dogs. They’ll team up on you. They’ll smell your fear and prey on the weak. The key is to take control from the start and never give an inch. Make everything you want them to do into a game, and when that doesn’t work, use reverse psychology. Oh, you little punk, you want to spit your mac and cheese on the floor? Fantastic. I was hoping to redecorate with a noodle-inspired throw rug.”
“I’m supposed to let them spit food on the floor?”
“No, you tool.” Grant sighed over the line. “The key is to make them think you want them to do the opposite of what you want them to do. Also, keep them as busy as possible. Don’t even give them time to get bored.”
That did fall in line with the little research Blake did over the weekend, where he read up on how kids need structure.
“I’m getting a headache.” Blake rubbed his temple with his free hand and paused outside the entryway to Mel’s apartment complex.
“Listen, if all else fails, she’s a single mom, right?”
Blake hesitated before responding. Where was he going with this? Did he want to know where he was going with this? “Yeah?” he answered hesitantly.
“So they’re not used to having a man around. Play that to your advantage. Raise your voice and take command of the room. They’ll listen. Then, once you get their attention and instill a little fear, show them how cool men are compared to women. I mean, moms have nothing on dads, right? Think about it. We’re stronger, better at sports, give better pony rides, and we grill better.”
Blake snorted. “All of that’s decidedly sexist and not exactly a long list of endorsements.”
“Dude, are you even listening?”
“Oh, I’m listening.”
“Why did you take this job? Other than because you have the hots for the mom.”
