Page 2 of Skate the Line

I quickly shake my head. “No.”

“You promised you’d hear me out.”

I laugh. “I didn’t promise you anything.”

She pauses, and through the beachy breeze and crashing waves, I hear her soften her tone toward Marybella. “You’re supposed to be in bed, monkey.”

“Oh, looks like you have to go,” I say, knowing it's well after bedtime for Marybella—the little girl she nannies.

“Don’t you dare hang up the phone, Sunny.”

I roll my eyes and wait on the other end while she gives Marybella three loud smooches and tucks her back in.

“Okay, real quick before she gets out of bed again with some silly excuse for needing water or something.”

I smile to myself, remembering when Atlas used to do the same to me when I’d have to stay overnight.

“I’m listening,” I say.

“Jillian opened up another branch of TEN. It’s called The Nanny Roster. It’s exclusive to the eastern part of the United States.”

I swallow and remain quiet.

“Word travels with the rich and famous, and apparently, there is a major need for nannies in other parts of the United States—or so Jillian says.”

“I…” I grab another seashell and start to rub its smooth surface. “I can’t nanny again, Ruby. It’s too much…”—fear—“drama.”

“Chicago is far from Washington.”

“Chicago?” The word barely squeezes out of my mouth. “What’s in Chicago other than…Oprah?”

Ruby laughs, and I feel my lips turning upward at the sound. “Chicago Blue Devils, Sunny. Get with it!”

My spine straightens. “Hockey?”Absolutely not.

“They don’t play against each other. I already checked.”

I know my sports, especially hockey.

“Unlesstheyboth make it to the playoffs,” I counter.

She scoffs. “As if the Hawks are going to make it to the playoffs. They haven’t won a single game.”

“There is still time left in the season.” My hands shake.

“True.” Ruby’s sigh cuts through the sound of waves. “Hey, I didn’t call to get you out of sorts. I just thought since it was halfway across the country, you might consider it. Especially because Chicago isartsy.”

“Artsy?” I already know that one of the best art schools is in Chicago, but I’d love to hear Ruby come up with some explanation on what makes itartsy. “How so?”

Ruby clicks her tongue. “I don’t know…there’s, like, museums and shit.”

I laugh loudly, and it causes a flock of seagulls to fly away.

“That’s right up your alley! Come on!” she pleads. “You don’t belong on a sunny beach in California.”

I scoff. “What do you mean I don’t belong on a sunny beach? MynameisSunny.”

“Shit, you have a point,” she says.

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