Chapter 5 #2
“Enzymatic browning,” she says without whipping out her phone or even stopping to think.
Her face lights up as she explains, “Polyphenol oxidase reacts with phenolic compounds and oxygen to create brown pigments. During the ripening process, amino acids transform to ethylene gas, which is a hormone, to break down the complex sugars. They also go brown from bruising if they’re dropped, because that makes them produce the gas faster.
It’s actually best to eat a banana once the brown spots have started to develop. Sugar is easier to digest than starch.”
I am an undereducated moron.
“Right. Chemistry. I’ll just tell Lucky it makes the bananas sweeter.” Moving on. “Do you speak Spanish?”
“I’m pretty fluent in French, but I learned how to say ‘please leave me alone, I’m not interested’ in five other European languages. Why do you ask?”
“Because the kids learn Spanish at school. Our other nannies would speak it with them quite a bit. Don’t worry about it. It sounds like you were very popular in Europe.”
“I could probably pick up Spanish really quickly,” she says, ignoring my last comment. “They’re both Romance languages.”
“Really, don’t worry about it.”
“No, I should learn Spanish if I’m here. You must speak it pretty well by now.”
“Si.” That’s it. That’s the extent of my spoken Spanish. This girl is out of my league.
“Where do you live?”
“Pacific Palisades. Overlooking the ocean. It’s between Malibu and Santa Monica.”
“I’ve been dying to get out to the beach.”
“My house is on the bluffs, with a view. I gotta warn you, though. I mean, has Nico told you anything about my neighborhood? It’s no place for a single twenty-four-year-old. Every restaurant in the village is closed by ten. It’s really family-oriented and quiet.”
“Has Nico not mentioned that I’m a boring dork?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I am.”
“Really? Because you seem like a fairly exciting dork to me.”
“Really? Thank you, but you seem like you have fairly limited experience with dorks.”
“It’s not for lack of trying. Can you cook? You don’t have to.”
“I cooked for the kids in France sometimes, sure. But I learned a lot of tricks from their grandmother, and they all involve butter, so…”
“My personal trainer will hate that.”
“Sorry.”
“No, I hate my trainer. That’s a good thing.”
When we pass by the Wellness and Beauty department, Willa places her hand on my arm for half a second, and I feel things that I haven’t felt in ages. “Have you tried lavender essential oil?”
I shake my head. “For what?”
“Insomnia. You should get an essential oil burner.”
I let her guide the front of the cart down the aisle and listen to her explain in a sing-song voice about aromatherapy and how breathing in the scent molecules of lavender essential oil can transmit signals to my limbic system to relieve stress and promote deep, relaxing sleep.
She doesn’t harass me about it the way Margo does.
She just presents me with the information and lets me decide for myself if I want it.
I want it.
I’ll take it.
“Do you have a current driver’s license?”
She blinks at the abrupt change of subject as she places a burner, tea lights, and essential oil in my cart. “I do.”
“How’s your driving history?”
“Minimal but fantastic. I went to college in Ithaca, so I didn’t have to drive much there, and I sometimes drove the kids around in France, but not much. I’ve been driving Nico’s truck here.”
“His old Nissan pickup?”
“Yeah. I like it.”
“Well, I’d have to rent you a car if you’re going to drive my kids around.”
She shrugs. “Okay.” She looks up, directly into my eyes, for the first time since we’ve been walking around the store. “So, you really want to do this?”
Yes.
Fucking hell, I need this woman in my life.
I’ll take her any way that I can have her. Dick in pants. Heart on lockdown.
My kids need this woman in their lives.
I can make this work.
I can sell this to my ex-wife.
Margo loves this natural beauty, aromatherapy shit. She fancies herself a Gwyneth Paltrow for millennials. She will eat this girl up in a totally different way from how I want to.
“Well listen, I’ll have to talk to Margo, and then you’ll have to Skype with her, but I really need a nanny, like yesterday. This could definitely work. If you’re really interested.”
“Do you want me to meet the kids first too, though? Make sure they like me?”
“Oh, they won’t like you. They’ve never liked any of their nannies or babysitters.”
She guffaws. “Seriously?”
“It shouldn’t affect the way you do your job.”
I have now replaced all of the food items that my daughter transferred to the kitchen floor this morning and push the cart over to checkout.
I don’t think about how easy it is to talk to Willa, and I don’t think about how good I feel, and I don’t dwell on how impossible it will be to restrain myself from kissing her.
I just ask her to stay in line with the cart while I go over to the floral section and pick out the flowers that I saw her inhaling when I walked in.
Back in the good old days, when I didn’t know she was Nico’s sister.
I grab all of them. Five bunches of these sweet and peppery-smelling blooms.
When I place them on the checkout counter, she smiles and helps me place everything from the cart onto the counter. We don’t say anything until the cashier scans the five bouquets and I take them from her to present them to Willa. “For you. Welcome to Los Angeles.”
“All of them?”
“It’s a big city. You deserve a big welcome.”
“Thank you.” The way she’s blushing and smiling at me now, it’s just like when I first met her.
When she was a zygote who had a big crush on me.
“Well, why don’t I take one of them back to my brother’s and you can take the other four to your house?
I mean, since I might be there too. Eventually.
” She places four of the bouquets back into the cart.
“That also works.”
Is the lack of sleep clouding my judgment?
Is this the best or the worst idea ever?
Do I have any other choice?
No. I don’t have any other choice.
Having Nico’s hot, weird younger sister help me with the kids and sleeping and showering in my house is the only choice I’ve got.
Fuckin’ A.
I love this day.
“Sorry we didn’t hang more,” Nico says, putting his arm around my shoulder as we carry the groceries to my car. Willa is waiting by his Jeep and sniffing those flowers with a dreamy look on her beautiful face. “I’ve got a show coming up. Maybe you’ll come.”
“Yeah, no, it’s fine. I’m glad you got to spend some quality time with yet another model in yoga pants.”
“Somebody’s gotta do it.” He grins. “Hey man, no pressure about hiring my sister or anything…”
“Not at all, man. She’s great. I’m in. I think this is happening. I’ll just have to clear it with Margo, you know.”
“Yeah, good. It’s just that she needs a job, and I don’t know if she’s ready to handle LA guys if she’s at a sales counter or waiting tables or whatever, but I trust you.
” He squeezes my shoulder, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean to do it in a menacing way, that’s just how my dick’s reading it.
“You’ll look out for her. Like a brother. ”
“Yup.” I will definitely keep her away from other LA guys. “You can count on me.”