Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
My throat tightens with gratitude. I love that he thought of this, but the perfectionist in me dies hard. For years, prepping for every competition wasn’t just a habit; it was survival. I guess you can take the girl out of competition, but you can’t take the prep out of the girl. I dip my hand into my bag and brandish my kit with a smile. This time, though, prepping seemed like a good idea. “Me too. I googled everything a nanny needs.”
He whistles in appreciation. “Look at you, slaying already.” He squeezes my arm. “You’re going to do great,” he says, his tone shifting from playful to sincere. “If anyone knows how to thrive under pressure, it’s you. And hey, if anyone gives you a hard time, do what we always did on the ice—pick yourself up with a smile and move the fuck on.”
“Words to live by,” I say.
My friend takes off, popping into the kitchen to say a quick goodbye to Tyler, who’s staring at the shelves in the pantry, a little zoned out.
“My Lyft is on its way, so she’s all yours now,” Trevyn says to my new boss, and I nearly swat my friend.
Tyler quickly snaps out of his stare at the cans of black beans to turn around, brow knit. But his expression clears quickly. “Thanks for helping. It was nice to meet you, Trevyn. If you ever want hockey tick—”
“Yes, sir! Please.”
I laugh at my friend, admonishing him. “You are shameless.”
Trevyn arches an imperious brow. “Have you seen the warmups, doll?”
I point exaggeratedly to the door. “Don’t let it hit you on the way out.”
“Oh hush,” he says, then turns to Tyler. “One, I’d love to see a game, and not just for the warmups. Two, I’m all about tit for tat, so if you ever want to catch an ice performance, we’ve got friends who are doing Ice Spectacle in New York later this fall.”
That’s one of the top ice productions in the world, blending an incredible light display with elite performances. “It’s supposed to be amazing,” I say, seconding Trevyn, but is Ice Spectacle even Tyler’s scene? “I doubt Tyler wants to see an ice-skating event though.”
“I would,” Tyler says immediately, owning it.
“Really?” I ask.
“Of course,” he says. “I lo—”
Sounds like he’s about to say I love something…skating?
But then he stops, nodding to Trevyn. “What’s your number? I’ll get you Sea Dogs tickets, no problem.”
My heart gets a little glowy as Tyler trades numbers with my friend simply to give him tickets. When we first arrived, I swear there was a hint of…peacocking in Tyler, a bit of let-me-show-you-how-strong-I-am. I honestly didn’t mind watching him carry all my things. It’s nice to see the change though.
When they’re done, Trevyn waggles his phone. “And the offer stands. If you’re ever in New York…”
“Thanks. I will,” Tyler says.
“My chariot awaits.” Trevyn flashes his winning grin, then coils up the end of Barbara-dor’s leash. “Be a good girl and say goodbye to our friends,” he says to the dog, who lifts her paw like she’s waving.
Then he sails off, calling out, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” as he heads toward the door.
I’m not sure if the warning is for Tyler or me. But I blush anyway, then point toward Trevyn’s exiting frame. “He doesn’t believe in filters.”
Tyler smirks and says nothing at first—just lets the smile spread. “Something you have in common?”
“Mean,” I tease, then wag a finger. “Also, you promised.”
“I did. And the clock starts,” he says, looking to a brushed silver clock on the wall that looks a little vintage, then back to me and says, “now.”
I step into the kitchen, miming zipping my lips. “The filter is on,” I say, then nod to the pantry. “Are you trying to figure out what to make for dinner?”
He scratches his jaw. “Yeah. I’ll be home in time, but I just wanted to see if I needed to go to the store. We usually shop at Natural Foods,” he says. That market mostly carries organic foods, and it’s an inexpensive alternative to some of the bougier grocery stores. I kind of love that he goes there when he doesn’t have to worry about the prices. But instead, he chooses to shop where other people do.
“Why don’t I go?” I offer, since I want to go above and beyond for this new job. Show him I can be a great nanny. “Do you want to give me a list?”
“Yeah?” He sounds enchanted.
“Isn’t that part of the job?” I ask lightly, not because I’m confused but possibly to remind him. His mom did tell me as much when she offered me the post. “Agatha did some of the food shopping, right?”
He blinks, then drags a hand through his hair. “Right. Yeah. She did.”
“She worked for you for a while, right?”