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“Oh no! My wings! They’re out of control!” I say, flapping them wildly. Cooper lifts his head and watches me with a suspicious eye. “Ah!” I say, as I let my wings lift me just a couple of inches, and then drop myself on my bottom, splashing the water all over myself.
“True!” Cooper jumps out of bed and rushes me. “Are you okay!” he asks, grabbing my head in both hands. I fell on my ass, but he’s six, so.
“Shucks. Looks like I made a mess.” I pout. Cooper grabs my hand and tugs it with all his might. Little homie couldn’t lift a stuffed bear, but I let him help me up.
“That’s okay, I have a towel in my bathroom,” Coop says as he walks me to his bathroom, and then smushes the towel into my face. I chuckle because that wasn’t the least bit helpful, but it was cute.
“Oh, hey, look at that.” I spread my arms. “All better.” I smile giving my wings a little shake, so they whoosh some air his way, and Cooper nods. “Thanks for helping me.” I smile, and Cooper beams at me.
“How about we go make another mess and see if we can clean it up too?” I ask. And Coop frowns. “Follow me!” I shout, racing down the hall back to the kitchen. As soon as I slide into the room, I grab a milk jug and dump it over my head.
I scream, because oh heck that was cold! And Cooper stands there, wide-eyed.
The bag of sugar is still full and on the counter, so I grab that as well and pour it over my head too. When I cough, a puff of sugar goes everywhere. Then, I plop my butt down on the ground, lie back in the mess from the unmixed cookies, and make snow angels. Well, sort of. Sticky mess angels.
“Hey, Coop?” I ask, and the little boy stands over me, still a bit shocked by my behavior.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think I could have a hug?” I ask, and he grins and then launches himself at me. Ten minutes later, we’re both covered in mess and giggling wildly. Eventually, I sit up, and as I do, my eyes lock with Milo.
Cooper’s back is to him, so he’s still just playing in the mess. I grin, but it’s more of a cringe. I mouth, ‘Sorry,’ and Milo glares. I shrug. He’s right, I’m not the least bit sorry. All of this was worth cheering up Coop and letting him see it’s okay to make a mess.
“So, do you know how we clean up messes?” I ask, still locking eyes with Milo. “We just grab a bucket, or some towels, and get to work. Because guess what? There will always be another mess, Coop. But there’s only one you. So don’t say mean things about my new best friend. Because Cooper is a smart, kind, and funny kid.” I pull back, and boop Coop on the nose.
“Go with your dad, so he can help you into the bath. I’ll clean this up,” I say, helping the kid to his feet. Milo grabs his son and carries him away. I grin awkwardly as he glares at me, but he just shakes his head.
That night, Coop fell asleep early, so I decided to make dinner for Milo and myself since the other two aren’t here yet.
“I see you managed to get that mess cleaned up,” Milo says, an air of annoyance in his tone. I won’t tell him I cheated and used my magic.
“I did.” I cover the pot of pasta and turn to face him. “His reaction to knocking over the bowl…”
“I know. His mother.” Milo sighs and shakes his head, looking away.
“Ah,” is all I say, turning back to the stove. I’d read Milo’s file and saw that Tiffany had a temper. Averybad one at that.
“What you did for him—”
“I did nothing,” I say abruptly, turning the burners off, and facing Milo again. “Cooper’s six. Sometimes dramatics are needed. Words mean less to kids because they can’t fully understand. But I think he understood my point when I dumped the milk on my head,” I smirk, as Milo rubs his forehead.
“You’re good with kids. You said kids weren’t your thing, so how’d you end up a nanny?” Milo asks, and I spin back to the food. Shit. I didn’t expect personal questions.
Rookie mistake, True!
“Uh,” is all I manage, before the oven saves my ass and beeps. “Food’s ready!” I announce. My file on Milo is extensive. I made his favorite. If I can get him to trust me, just a little, I can hopefully help open him up to new love. I already have a few prospects for him in mind. One of which will be here tomorrow.
I serve two plates, and Milo’s eyes widen.
“Chicken Parm’?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye, and I nod.
“So good. Dig in.” I tip my head toward his plate, and as he does, he literally moans. Like, moans, moans. My eyebrows shoot up, and when he realizes I’m staring, a forkful of food halfway to my mouth, he blushes beet red. Like, redder than my hair.
“Was I moaning?” he asks, and I burst out laughing. I throw my head back, clapping my hands because that was fucking perfect.
His first date needs to be with his secretary. She was training as a chef when she took on her current job, needing money too desperately to follow her dreams.
If she cooks for him? They’ll both be goners.
