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CHAPTERONE
Posh
"Damn it!"I exclaim before I glance over at Whitney and Jon's little girl and apologize.
"Sorry, Maggie. Don't listen to Auntie Posh."
"Damn it!" the little girl parrots. I wince.
Jon and Whitney aren't going to be happy that I'm teaching their daughter to curse, but what's a girl supposed to do when she gets stranded when she's babysitting her best friend's five-year-old daughter?
I'm not really Maggie's aunt, but seeing as how Whitney and I don't have any blood sisters and she and I practically grew up together, what with our rich-as-sin, asshole fathers running in the same circle, we're as close to sisters as two girls can get.
Therefore, I get auntie duties.
And I love them. I do. I just fear that I totally suck at them.
I've never been what people would call a good role model. I've been called over the top and flighty, more absorbed with fashion than anything else, and I try not to let that bother me, even though there's more to me than meets the eye.
It's just easier to be a good talker and put on a show than let people close enough to see the real me. Besides, with Whitney being such a damsel in distress, one of us had to take the initiative and be the strong one.
Jon's going to skin me alive if he finds out I got stranded with his precious daughter.
Whitney's husband dotes on their daughter just as much—if not more so—than he does Whitney.
Theirs is a relationship that makes my heart ache with loneliness. I mean, I'm happy for my friend. I truly am.
But I'm a little bit jealous too.
Not that I want Jon or anything. I just want someonelikehim. Someone who sees me—therealme—the way he does Whitney.
But I can't think about all that now.
I have bigger problems.
Like getting my car up and running again and getting Maggie back home hopefully without Jon ever finding out what happened.
He might not ever let me babysit Maggie again if he finds out.
I bite my lip as I glance up and down the empty highway.
Shit.
Why did I have to break down in the middle of nowhere?
Okay, so it's not the middle of nowhere, but I don't see any gas stations or buildings nearby. We were on our way to the beach, and I know it's a good ten-mile trek to the nearest sign of civilization.
I look at Maggie and chew on my lip some more.
I pull out my cell phone and groan when I see that I have no service.
What am I going to do?
My eyes flick back to the road when I hear the rumble of an engine.
But it doesn't sound like a car engine.
It's a motorcycle.
