by Bria Quinlan
I glanced up to find a woman in her mid-twenties with a small stroller next to me.
“Hi.” She smiled and motioned to the table next to us. “Do you mind if I side park?”
“Oh, no. Of course not.” I shifted Gus’s stroller so he was more parallel with the table and they could fit there as well.
She settled in, turning her stroller so that she could see the little girl inside, but also so that Gus and the girl were able to see one another. They immediately started baby babbling with one another, the adults completely forgotten.
“Chalice makes friends everywhere we go.” The woman grinned at her daughter and took a sip of her drink. “She’s my in with adults, too. I’m Calla.”
She offered a hand, and I couldn’t help but like her straightforwardness.
“Minx,” I said, amazed. This would not happen in a city where people worked so hard to not see you.
“Minx, nice.” She smiled and left it at that. Which was a pleasant change from the comments I typically got. “So are you guys new here?”
“I am. Gus is a local.” I grinned as his head swung toward me at the sound of his name. “I’m the new nanny. I just started yesterday.”
“Wow, yesterday, and you’re already out and about.” She smiled, making it clear she was just teasing. “Where were you before this?”
I hated this kind of question. People couldn’t help but be fascinated by stories of rich and famous—not because of anything more than a normal curiosity about people who were so different than most of us. I was afraid if I shared, I’d be put back into the not-normal slot, but I was also a horrible liar, and keeping a fake story straight seemed like a horrible idea.
“I was actually in Nevada with a family.”
“Nevada? Huh.”
“So,” I cleared my throat, looking to not kill the conversation, “how long have you lived here?”
“Oh, I’m a lifer.” She laughed as she reached over and wiped the baby bubbles of the little girl’s face. “Born and raised. First generation, but still.”
“First and second,” I waved toward the kids, then noticed that Gus had his ducky. “Hey, did I give you that ducky again?”
I hadn’t had a chance to wash it since it was in the fountain, and there he was, happily gumming away at it.
“He really loves this duck,” I told Calla as I took it and wiped it down before ceding battle and giving it back to him.
“So, you’re new to town. It must be quite an adjustment.” There was a question inherent in her statement.
“So far, so good. The tourist aspect is really interesting. I hadn’t expected that, I guess. I’ve been looking forward to the small-town experience after all my travel.”
“Oh, we definitely have the small-town thing down.” She laughed and glanced around. “I could tell you something about everyone in here. There are no secrets in a small town—well, not many. But, I guess that all depends on where you live, too.”
“Where you live?” I asked, because I was really not interested in dealing with a place that had politics based on socioeconomics. I was tired of the rich and the famous—even if the rich was by a different standard.
“Oh, you know.” She leaned in and gave me a little wink. “The people in the know, and those who aren’t.”
“Oh.” I smiled back at her. So this was just normal town gossip.
Gossip I could deal with.
“Are you here for the full run?” she asked.
“It depends. Gus’s mom had an emergency, and she’s out of town. So I’m here to help his uncle take care of things while she’s gone.”
Calla nodded like this made sense, and then turned to study Gus, a thoughtful look on her face.
“So, his dad, what is he?” she asked.
That seemed like a weird question, but, small town—probably something people ask.
I was just so used to everyone knowing what my bosses did—and dodging questions from the presses—that the idea that people ask seemed weird.
“I don’t know. Tim, his uncle, hasn’t met Gus’s dad yet.” I tried not to sound defensive. It wasn’t Tim’s or Gus’s fault that Willow was a free-floating spirit who was acting more than a bit irresponsibly about her baby.
It was hard not to judge. She had called Tim in, and there was no one more responsible or safe than him.
My phone rang, surprising me out of my thoughts. It wasn’t “Roll On” or “She Was” (by Marksman’s Men, of course) so it wasn’t my parents—which meant it was safe to check it.
Tim’s name popped up on the screen, and I was surprised at the little flutter I felt rush through my stomach.
“Hello?” I answered, and Gus waved at me as if he knew who I was talking to.
“Hey, Minx. It’s Tim.” He paused, as if I may need to process who he was before going on. “I decided to work a half day at the office and figured I’d take you and Gus to lunch.”
I glanced down at my half-eaten sandwich and made a game day decision. Stuffing the sandwich back in its wrapper, I glanced around for the trash.
“Sure, Gus and I would love to have lunch with you. But, we’re already in town. We took a walk.” Gus squeaked up at me as if he wanted me to add something. Unfortunately, my skills in Fluent Baby were still underdeveloped. “Gus says he’s looking forward to seeing you.”
“I’m nearing town now, so I’ll just meet you at the café.” Tim cleared his throat and said, “I’m looking forward to seeing Gus, too.”
Before I could try to read into that, he hung up.
“So, the boss is on his way, huh?” Calla grinned eyeing my wadded up sandwich. “Sounds like he’s a real PITA.”
I could feel the blush rising up my cheeks and figured there was no way out of this.
“Um, he’s very nice.” I defended Tim’s honor.
Gus looked up, his little gurgles stopping as he gave Calla a look. I reached out and gave his little booty-covered foot a squeeze to let him know she was teasing. He was incredibly sensitive.
“Ohhh…” Calla set her coffee cup down. “Nice is code for hot, isn’t it?”
I glanced around, afraid the entire gossiping small-town café was listening in now.
“Um, no. He really is very nice.” And hot. But I didn’t need to tell her that. I glanced down at her ring finger to make sure it was covered. Yup, married. That made me feel a little better.
“Nice and hot.” She laughed. “No need to lie. I can tell. It’s okay. You think your boss is hot. It’s like a perk of the job. You might as well get some eye candy while you play with Gus here, right?”
“Um…” I was so not sure how to answer that.
“Don’t worry.” Calla laughed. “I’m just teasing you. But, I’ll watch out for your hottie and let you guys have some hangout time when I see him come in. I bet he’s all Mr. Masculine, right? Tough guy with a heart of gold? Ohhh! Is he a biker? The Biker and the Baby—that could be his romance novel trope.”
I wasn’t really sure what to say to that. I’d always been around married guys or guys I wouldn’t want anything to do with. This was something different, and having Calla tease me about it made my crush feel all the more real, for some reason.
The door opened, and I fought to not glance up.
“Don’t worry. That’s not him.” Calla took another sip of her coffee and watched the new person. “Although, he is looking around like he’s meeting someone. He’s kind of nerdy, I mean, tall and cute—but nerdy. He’s—oh.”
“What?” I asked, still not turning around to look.
“He’s coming this way.” She shot me a grin and a wink. “Geek chic, huh?”
I blushed again as I glanced behind me to where Tim wove between the tables. He raised a hand in greeting and smiled as Gus kicked his feet, trying to get his uncle’s attention.
“Very Clark Kent,” Calla said under her breath as Tim straightened his glasses. “I wouldn’t mind seeing his cape, now that you mention it.”
“Calla!” I shushed her before Tim reached us.
“Hey.” He reached down and smoothed out the blanket around Gus’s legs. “Hey, buddy. How’s the duck today? Taste good?”
“That duck is going to be the death of me.” I couldn’t help but turn a glare on it, since my feet still felt a little weird from wading in a public fountain.
“Really?” Tim laughed. “Death by rubber ducky, news at eleven?”
“Don’t joke. That duck is smarter than some people I know.” Which, sadly, wasn’t a lie.
“Hi, I’m Calla.” Calla stuck her hand between us, giving me a grin as she did. “You must be Tim.”
Tim glanced between us, as if wondering how Calla knew his name.
“Um, yes.”
“The boss.”
“Well, I guess.”
“Of Minx.”
“That is Minx.”
“Tim, the boss of Minx.” She put it all together, as if this was helping me in some way.
“Right.” Tim glanced my way as if to say, What’s up with the crazy woman?
“Anyway, Minx, great to meet you.” She started packing up her things and tucking them into the diaper bag hanging from the stroller. “Chalice and I go for walks every morning at nine, if you guys want to join us.”
“Oh, that sounds great.” I glanced down at Gus, who seemed to be having some intense conversation with Chalice, and wondered if there really was a secret language of babies we unlearned as we grew up. “We’d love to.”
We both glanced down at the kids, only to see that Chalice had Gus’s ducky. Or, I thought she did, until I saw he still had his comfortably wrapped in a pudgy paw.
“Well, aren’t you clever!” Calla leaned down and kissed Chalice on the head. “She’s very good already about making connections.”
I nodded. Apparently ducks were all the rage this year.
Calla and I exchanged information, and she headed out the door with a quick wink my way as Tim shuffled chairs and tables to join us.
“She seems nice,” he said as he settled into his seat. “A little weird, but in a nice way.”
I was suddenly feeling very protective of Calla. She was the first person who had reached out to me, had offered in some small way to be my friend.
Growing up, my parents’ fame had kept me in a world where you never knew who was your friend and who was just jockeying to be in the right circles. Then, when I graduated and moved on to nannying, it wasn’t like the mothers were rushing to be friendly—and the fathers were best to be avoided, just for appearances.
And, because I was busy protecting the kids and the parents’ reputations, I didn’t get a lot of girlfriend opportunities.
“She is nice,” I insisted, suddenly afraid he might not want me bringing Gus to hang out with someone he thought was weird.
“No, she seems nice.” He gave me a sideways grin as he picked Gus up out of his stroller. “Nothing wrong with a little weird, is there, Gus man? No, there’s not.”
Gus reached up and patted both Tim’s cheeks, knocking his glasses a bit sideways—all out of love, obviously.
“Oh, good.” I glanced around, feeling like I should say something else.
“Are you hungry?” Tim asked while he continued to bounce Gus on his knee.
“Um, I could eat something small.” Since I had thrown half my sandwich away so I could spend time with you—best eight-dollar waste ever. Not that waste was good, but…yeah.
“Great. Do you know what you want? I’m starving. This commute thing is hunger making.”
“Driving your car made you hungry?”
“Yup.” Tim laughed as Gus tweaked his nose. “It’s tough work dodging those semis and texting teenagers.”
I watched the two of them, both acting as if they were reunited after years instead of just a few hours, and felt my heart flip over and land with a splat in the puddle of emotion I’d been fighting off from the beginning.
I had a hard, dark feeling it was a losing battle.
Tim went and ordered us food, bringing it back to the table while I fed Gus. He’d been so busy talking to his new friend, Chalice, that I hadn’t fed him before. I was glad for something to focus on.
We made small talk, with Tim leading the conversation. The warmth in my chest grew because his questions weren’t geared toward learning about my employers but about learning about me.
I found myself wanting to admit to him who my parents were and trusting that Rock Star and Supermodel weren’t a distraction or a game changer. That I’d still be just me. Just Minx.
And I wanted to tell him about my dreams. The things I wanted…the things I never told anyone. About the house on the coast in New Hampshire and the classes I wanted to take and the quiet life where no one asked anyone in my sphere for an autograph. I wanted to tell him about my family and my parents and the crazy lifestyle that came attached with them.
I wanted to tell him about my last job and the investigations and my fear that if I left the insanity the kids would end up in custody.
I wanted to tell him all the things.
And yet, I didn’t.
Not because Tim wouldn’t have listened and been encouraging.
But because he totally would have.
But because I was afraid. It was a justified fear—the job would only last so long.
And so I smiled and nodded and listened to him telling me stories about Willow when she was younger so I’d know Gus’s mom and thought, One day I’ll find this.
I’ll find this.
One day.
We walked around town, enjoying all the sites. It was obviously a dream come true for me and Gus.
Me, because I was loving all the small-town appeal. I couldn’t help but enjoy the people politely greeting each other by name, the small talk happening on the corner, the way everyone seemed to know the same things and people. I loved all of it. I even liked the tourist aspect once I got used to it.
Gus, on the other hand, was enthralled by all the colors and costumes. He cooed his interest at just about everything. And, the town loved him right back.
Every woman we passed couldn’t help but be swayed by his flirtatious self and his cheeky grin. Most just smiled and nodded as we went, but occasionally one would stop to talk, asking questions about registering Gus for their SCA Academy.
He seemed a little young—and had a nanny—so I wasn’t really sure what the point of that would be. But each mother we met seemed to insist that it was necessary.
Each time Tim just nodded and smiled, promising to look into it. Then gave me a reassuring you’re the boss look each time as they walked away. The fact that I was more than just a set of eyes to keep on the kid was a revelation. That he saw us more as a team…it was heady.
We started to pass an adorable little shop with jewelry in the window, and I had to go in. Of course, I had a perfectly good reason. My mother’s birthday was in a few weeks. She was like a small child with gifts, so something unique was the perfect thing for her.
“Do you guys want to wait out here?” I asked as Tim readjusted the stroller’s sun canopy for the four hundredth time to make sure Gus was hidden from the dangers of sunshine at all times. “There looks like there’s a lot going on in there Gus could make an adventure out of.”
Tim glanced into the shop, nearly paling at all the little stands and displays.
“I’m not even sure we’re safe out here. Maybe we should cross the street.” I thought he was kidding, but he glanced around as if there were a safer part of the sidewalk to retreat to.
The abilities for chaos he attributed to Gus kept astonishing me.
“I’m pretty sure you guys will be okay.” I patted him on the arm, trying not to linger too much on the lean muscle I could practically feel flexing under my hand. “I’ll be right back.”
Tim stood, pushing his hair out of his face and adjusting his glasses. “Okay…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be right back.” And with that, before he co
uld worry more, I slipped into the shop.
“Welcome to Dionysus Flair,” a voice called from behind a tall display. “I’m Topaz.”
I glanced around, looking for the source, but all I saw were creative displays that had an odd sense of organization to them.
Before I could get any farther into the store, a head popped out, following the voice. “Is there anything special I can help you find?”
The woman connected to the voice—and the head—was tiny. She had long hair, braided in intricate patterns around her head, with pointed little ears looped with silver hoops sticking out. She was, in a word, adorable. Just like everything since I’d arrived.
I was really beginning to love this town and all its eccentric residents. So far, the oddities were nothing that took away from the normalness of small-town living.
“I was just looking for a gift for my mom.” I glanced around, wondering where to start and thinking I shouldn’t have come in when I had two guys waiting for me outside.
“Oh, I love gifts!” She all but clapped her hands as she came around the display to meet me. “Do you know what you want, or do we get to shop around?”
Usually a sales clerk inserting herself in my shopping like that would annoy the snot out of me, but with Topaz it just sounded like so much fun that I couldn’t help but be excited, too.
“Something chunky and fun but classy.” I hoped that didn’t sound insulting. Some people hated the idea that anything they had wasn’t classy.
“Okay. That’s a good start.” She gave me a bright smile and walked me toward a counter. “Are you thinking necklace? A set? Maybe a fun bracelet?”
I tried to run through all my mother’s typical accessories in my head. She seemed to lean toward statement pieces, one big piece that she centered everything else around.
“I’m not sure. Something that stands on its own, that adds to a look without being the look.”
Crystal and I were pretty much opposite ends of the fashion spectrum. I was all about saving my money and being comfortable. She was all about the statement of things. Of course, she was paid to look amazing, and I was paid to not let children swallow small pieces of metal, so there was also that.