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“What’s a pedi?”
“It’s the best thing since sliced bread.” My saying is as lost on her as it was on me when I was first told it years ago. “How about I show you really quick? What time does the movie start?”
“Ten thirty.”
Yikes.
“Is the movie theater close by?”
I breathe a little easier when Lucy nods.
“Great! We have time. I’ll be right back. I need nail polish.”
Lucy’s excitement is so high she bounces on the bed, missing me colliding with her father in the hallway.
He’s snooping—again.
“She’ll be ready in ten minutes,” I say matter-of-factly, too angry to play games. “You can wait downstairs.”
“I—”
I squash my finger to his lips and tsk him for thinking he has a say before I head for my room, swinging my hips like they’re not marked from the deep dig of his fingers when he fucked me ten ways from Sunday.
“Amelia—”
“I’m sorry. I just need a minute to decompress everything. It’s a lot to take in. His cock is as large as imagined, possibly larger, he fucks like a god, but he’s an ass the following morning.” She twists her lips before saying, “Things could be worse.”
“He’s denying we were even together. It can’t get more fucked up than that.”
She murmurs her disapproval before adding words into the mix. “He could have slipped out while you were sleeping, and you’d never see him again.”
“It’s his damn house.”
Her brows drop low. “True. But…”
She has nothing. Not a single thing.
Except, “He did kind of warn you that it was a one-night-only hookup.”
“When?” I deny, my voice so loud it echoes through the empty living room. Brodie and Lucy left thirty minutes ago for the theater.
My phone screen goes blank when she scans back through the messages I bombarded her phone with. I told her everything, in detail, via messenger.
She must be proud.
Amelia’s face fills the screen again. “Found it.” With her accent mimicking a man, she says, “Because if that’s all you want, a night of fun with no attachments, I might not have the strength to fight anymore.” She glares at me. “That screams one-night stand.”
“But that was before we fucked.”
If she wore glasses, I’d see her pulling them off sideways to emphasize her glare. “A one-night stand usually entails fucking.”
“But the connection—”
“Doesn’t matter with a one-night stand.”
“We created magic.”
“For one night only.”
“And it was beautiful.”
“I’m glad, because from what I read, you might need the memories for future taco-tickling Tuesdays.”
I groan and flop onto the couch. She’s right, but I can’t admit that.
Aware she’s won, Amelia’s smile shines brighter than the early morning sun.
“I really loathe you sometimes.”
She takes my insult as a compliment. “Aww… you’re so sweet when you’ve had all the kinks banged out of you.” She stops humping the corner of her couch when a strange ring trickles through the living room. “What is that?”
I shrug. “Brodie took his cell with him.”
“And he’s about ancient enough to have a ringtone that old.”
I laugh like his maturity isn’t one of the things I like the most about him.
“Does Lucy have a cell phone?” Amelia asks when the noise continues.
I shake my head just as “You’ve reached the Davis residence. We’re not home right now, so if you leave a message, we’ll get back to you” comes from the entryway table.
“No fucking way,” Amelia murmurs when we find the cause of the noise. It is a voicemail but in a box. “Are you sure he’s thirty-seven? You might have gotten the numbers mixed up.”
“You’ve seen him—”
“And Botox does wonders. Look at Cher.”
I startle when she is interrupted. “Brodie, it’s Laura from the nanny agency. I just read your email about Henley—”
“Answer it now!” Amelia demands, scaring me for the second time in the past minute.
“Answer what?”
“The phone. The voicemail gadget should have a phone attached to it. It will be big and clunky. Pick it up!”
When I find a white oblong-shaped object beside the still-talking machine, I pick it up, push the answer button, then squash it to my ear. “Hello…”
“Oh, hello. Ah. Is this Henley?”
I lower my voice and make it sound old. “Who, dear?”
“Henley…” Papers ruffle. “Seabourn. She is the nanny placement Brodie cited for Lucy Davis.”
“Ohh. Hillary Seabourn? Yes, I’m Hillary. It is these damn dentures. I can’t speak without a whistle. He must have misheard me. Is everything okay?”
“Um. Yes.” She is a bad liar. “Brodie, ah… Mr. Davis forwarded some concerns to us this morning.” She realizes she said too much too late. “I’ll return his email. If you could ask him to check it, that would be wonderful. Have a pleasant day.”
She disconnects our call before I can reply.
“Shit. Shit. SHIT!”
As Amelia remains quiet, the room spins around me. I can’t believe my ruse has been busted so soon. I thought I’d at least have a week or two.
“What are you going to do?” Amelia asks, drawing my focus away from hyperventilating. “You could pack and leave before they get home.”
