Chapter 5
FIVE
SHANE
This girl is giving me whiplash.
I never know what she’s going to say next, and I love it.
She needs to stop staring at my mouth or I’m going to lean across the table and kiss her.
But also, why is it so adorable that she’s being such a little turd to me?
“First of all, yes I do read every script that my agents read first and then pass along to me. Secondly, John Cena is a hilarious and talented actor who was a costar—not the star—of that movie. And third, it just so happens I recently wrapped a fantastic little independent film that I was only paid scale plus ten for.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means I didn’t do it for the money and if it doesn’t get into Sundance I’m screwed.”
“Uh-huh. So you also didn’t do it because you loved the script.”
“I did love the script. It’s a great script… You know, it’s funny—I’m remembering now that Nico once mentioned that you’ve been sort of a dick ever since you moved to Europe, but I didn’t believe him.”
“And now?”
“And now I think that was an understatement.”
She blinks once and then looks down at her coffee cup.
“Yeah. Sorry. It seems the only way my super impressive science degrees actually benefit me in Los Angeles is that they make me feel superior enough to ridicule attractive, successful actors who make more money in one month than I’ll probably make in five years. If I’m lucky.”
“Wow, there is a lot to unpack in that sentence, but all I really heard is that you find me attractive, so I’m gonna let you continue to make fun of me.”
“Thanks. I would have continued even without your permission, but your mild narcissism makes it even more rewarding.”
“You aren’t a dick to the kids you look after, are you?”
“Not really.”
“That’s comforting.”
“I generally prefer kids to adults, so…”
“Yeah? Hang on—my brain’s a little slow today, but I just realized something. It sounds to me like you’re very familiar with my entire body of work.”
She scoffs and looks away. “No.”
“And yet, you speak as though you are familiar with the scripts of the films I’ve starred in.”
“Movies. You’ve starred in movies. And I did not watch them willingly.”
“Go on.”
“No. Are we just going to sit here and talk about you and your hair for half an hour, or would you like to tell me about your children?”
“You’re the one who started talking about my hair.”
“I don’t think so… Okay you know what—this is weird, so I’m just gonna tell you something and get it out of the way so things don’t get weirder, and then you can decide if you want to hire me as a nanny or not.”
“Okay…” This should be interesting. If she tells me that she’s been arrested, I think I can still make this work, as long as it was for a nonviolent crime.
She takes in a huge breath, grabs on to the pendant of her necklace, and tilts her head up, squeezing her eyes shut.
I take this opportunity to briefly admire her slender neck and elegant collarbones, the impossibly smooth skin of her chest, and the strap of that pale-pink bra that’s peeking out from under her blouse and tank top, and fuck me she’s pretty.
Not just pretty—she’s lovely and odd and sexy in a way that I’ve never encountered before.
I want to take her to dinner and go for a walk on the beach and talk to her for hours and hours while Netflix and chillin’, and I want that gentle, knowing hand and that pouty sassy mouth on my cock.
Oh fucking hell, I want to suck on those beautiful tits until she comes, and I want to spank that round ass and fuck her with my tongue and make her scream my name, and then I will bend her over and give it to her until she—whoa.
She takes another deep breath, and I look around for Nico.
He could take one look at me from inside the store and know that I’ve been thinking about coming all over his little sister’s tits, and there would be one hell of a cleanup needed in Aisle Me.
He is nowhere to be found, but I need to clamp down on this train of thought regardless.
“I used to have a crush on you.”
Fuck. That’s not helping.
“A big one. Years ago. When you worked with my brother. And maybe for a few years after that. I mean I was basically a zygote and we only met once, and you barely even knew I existed. I realize I was just one of thousands of little girls who had a thing for you, but anyway. You were the first famous guy I’d ever met—I mean the first cute young one.
I had met the local weatherman in Detroit, but he was old and creepy.
Anyway. You were so nice to me, and it meant a lot to me, so… I had fond memories of meeting you.”
Goddammit. It’s so cute that she’s telling me this.
“But I’m over it. So over it. That was then.
This is now. Between now and then, I’ve dated tons of other guys.
Mostly European ones. And not all of them were chemistry nerds either.
So. It’s not a thing anymore. Let’s just focus on your kids and your sleeping problem and the job you need me to do and not get weird about the fact that I might be living with you for a few months.
Right?” She wrinkles her nose, finally looks over at me, lets go of her necklace, and bites her lower lip.
Fuck me. I don’t want her to be over it.
“Yeah. Right. Thanks for making it not weird.” Fucking hell, why does she have to be Nico’s sister?
“First of all, there were hundreds of thousands—possibly a million or more girls and moms who had a thing for me when I was on That’s So Wizard, just to clarify.
Secondly, I’d like you to define tons. Tons of guys—is that Girl Speak for three? ”
She smirks. She clearly did not mean three. “Sure. So, we’re cool, right? Potential friends who might be living and working together-ish? Obviously don’t tell my brother I had a crush on you, because he would lose his mind and never let me see you again.”
“You think?”
“Oh yeah. He had no idea how I felt about you. I’m gonna stop talking about how I felt about you now.”
“Good, yeah, great… You should probably stop talking about that now.”
“Okay, I need to do something though.” She slaps her hands on her thighs. “It would be better if you cover your eyes.”
“Sure.” I cover my eyes with both hands and totally sneak a peek through the cracks of my fingers just in case this thing she’s about to do involves giving me another glimpse of her cleavage.
She stands up, takes one step to the side of her chair, and starts jumping up and down while flinging her hands around.
It would probably be a strange and not at all sexy thing if someone else were doing it, but her tits are all bouncy and carefree, and nothing else really matters right now except for that.
She’s jogging in place and tilting her head from side to side, and now she’s jogging away from me and back again, once, twice, three times, and now she’s back in her chair.
“Okay, I’m done.”
I remove my hands from my face. “What are you done doing, exactly?”
“I just had to release some nervous energy and do something even more embarrassing than disclosing my former crush to you.”
“That makes sense.”
“Now you tell me something embarrassing about yourself.”
“I’m not doing that.”
“Fine. I guess that penis shirt is embarrassing enough.”
I look down at the front of my inside out shirt. “Pen shirt. My pen is… You can read what it says?”
“I’m pretty sure everyone can.”
“Whaddya know…shit—what time is it?” I flip over my phone to check the time.
“I should start shopping. I’ve gotta get back home to unload the groceries and then pick up the kids.
” Jesus, those are the least sexy sentences a guy could ever say right there.
“You want to come with? We’ll keep talking.
About the kids. Not about the huge crush you used to have on me. ”
“I’m super glad I confided in you. Thanks for not making me feel awkward about it.”
“I’m super glad you brought it up, even though I’ve practically forgotten about it already.”
I text Nico to let him know we’re shopping, but I saw the model he’s hitting on.
He won’t be joining us anytime soon. And I’m glad.
This is the first time I’ve been out grocery shopping with anyone other than the kids in years, and it’s nice to just push a cart up and down the aisles and not have to worry about things being dropped or knocked over or someone getting lost. Although I could easily get lost in that voice and those eyes and that hair and those hands and that body and the way she smells—Jesus, she’s a buffet of sensory delights, and I can’t indulge in any of them.
But I can tell she’s trying just as much as I am to find a rapport that will work for us.
Kids.
Focus on the kids.
“So how old were the kids you looked after in France? Versailles, right?”
“Yes, right outside of Paris. That’s where the post-graduate school is, where I got my Master of Science.”
“In perfume.”
“In scent design and creation.”
“So now you’ve learned all the different ways to mix things together to get the smells you want?”
She smiles and blushes. “Pretty much. Anyway, I boarded with the Angier family. Noelle and Leo are the kids. Noelle was six when I first got there, Leo was eight. School-age. I’d look after them when their parents were at work or traveling.
My class schedule was similar to theirs, so it worked out quite well. They’re good kids. It was easy.”
“Well, mine are good kids, but they aren’t easy.”
“No?”
“No, they’re a nonstop adorable nightmare. Like an animated Disney movie that follows you around and just won’t end.”
She giggles. “I don’t believe you.”
“You’ll see. They’re really smart, though. Probably a little too smart for my liking.” We’re in the produce section, and I reach for a bunch of organic bananas. “Hey, you don’t happen to know why banana skins get brown spots, do you?”