Page 21 of Puck Daddy


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wants five thousand dollars? Fine. I’ve no doubt that the minute the money’s been received, she’ll be dropping my kids like a hot potato, just like the last nanny.

I wonder where it’ll be this time? The hotel lobby? The fucking playground?

After I finish my conversation with Russ, I dial Jeff’s number. I instruct him to keep an eye on Faith and the kids when I can’t. He wanted to help out, and this is one way he can.

At first, he’s complaining about the short notice, wanting to know why the hell I’m asking, but he agrees.

I sit back in my seat, satisfied with my temporary arrangement, but this isn’t going to help me in the long run. My childcare situation is getting out of control. As soon as I think it’s settled, something else comes out of the woodwork.

“You thinking about your hot nanny? She’s a piece of work.” Jack, one of my teammates, nudges me, before taking the seat across from me as we ride the bus, heading toward the arena.

I sigh. “Hardly. What do you mean, she’s a piece of work?”

He grins. “Sandy said she needed some relaxation, so she went to the spa, and let our boy stay in the play area. On her way back, she heard Ferguson wasn’t allowed back in the play area with the other kids. Apparently, he’d been destroying things pretty good. Your nanny walked in there, had a quick chat with Ferguson, then proceeded to tell the hotel staff that they’d got it all wrong. Which was the same thing your son said, but they ignored him.”

I sit up, listening intently. Faith failed to mention any of this to me. She never let on that Ferguson had been a handful, or that there’d been any kind of trouble.

“What happened next?”

He smiles. “Your nanny, she got the manager involved. Defended that kid of yours to the bitter end, man. The staff in the play area ended up having to apologize to Ferguson. The kid that actually caused the ruckus apologized, too. It seems Ferguson was telling the truth. They just blamed him because he was the one covered in paint.”

“Where was Darcy in all this?”

Jack shrugs. “Don’t know. All I know is that my wife said, if you don’t want to keep this nanny of yours permanently, then we could sure use someone like her. She’s one of a kind, Wright.”

I sit back, my mind whirling. Jeff may not be needed after all.

Maybe I’ve been too harsh on Faith. She said her dad called and that was the only reason she was asking, so it was an emergency. And, hell, there’d been tears in her eyes as she spoke about her mom.

Fuck, I’m an asshole. I really need to learn to trust people again. My own mother said that was my problem—I didn’t trust myself enough to trust others. I loved Hayley, sure, but I never gave my whole heart to her, even after two children. She was my everything, but on some level, I’d always expected her to leave me, because I wasn’t good enough for her, which became a self-fulfilling prophecy in the end.

“You okay, man?” Jack asks, staring at me blankly.

I’m lost in thought. “Yeah. It’s just that Faith never said anything to me. I don’t get it.”

He shrugs again. “You had a game to deal with, and she didn’t want to bother you with it. At least, that’s what she told the manager when he suggested getting you involved.”

My mind is consumed by Faith again. She didn’t deserve the way I treated her. She did more than just babysit my kids—she went up to bat for them. I just wish I’d seen her in action. She isn’t as innocent and weak as she comes across, that much is true.

I send her a text message, hoping to smooth things over as much as written words will allow.

Me: Everything okay with the kids?

I wait with the phone in my hand. Jack has resumed his banter with the guys, and they’re their usual rowdy selves as they talk about the upcoming game once again. I try and get involved, but I’m not focusing.

I need her to reply.

Finally, my phone vibrates.

Faith: Kids are good. Just getting ready to head out. Waiting for Darcy to finish eating.

I know that Darcy’s the fussiest eater in the world. She’s picky, and takes forever to eat a meal. It’s just one of her quirks.

Me: Poor you. By the time she finishes, the game will be over!

I smile to myself at my feeble joke, wishing I could just tell her exactly what’s on my mind. The real reason I’m sending her a damn message in the first place. I take a deep breath, not waiting for her to reply before sending another one.

Me: Sorry about earlier. I acted like a jerk. I know you must have been in a real bind to ask for money like that. I mean it, I’m sorry.

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