Page 11 of Nanny Crush
“I am,” she laughs out.
I roll my eyes. “He asked if I had a drinking or drug problem.”
“Because you’re going to be around his kids,” she points out.
“I know. It’s just weird. He showed me around the house, though. There’s a pool and a hot tub. I’d get my own room with a walk-in closet and attached bathroom. The house is really nice. The kids are cute and seem sweet. I hope I get the job. It would be nice to save some money up.”
“I’m sure you’ll be hearing from him soon. Nobody has ever been able to reject you.”
I snort. “You do.”
“That’s because I’m your best friend and that’s my job. I gotta put you in your place sometimes, ‘cause nobody else will.” She smiles wide.
“Thanks a lot.”
“Let’s go out tonight. It’ll help keep your mind off the whole jobless thing.”
“I can’t right now. I’m seriously broke.”
“It’s on me. Go home, get yourself sexy, and I’ll swing by this evening and pick you up.”
“No, I don’t want you buying all my meals.”
“I’m your best friend, Sasha. If I can’t do it, then who can?”
Hours later, she’s talked me into going out with her, even though it’s a Sunday night and there won’t be anything going on at the bar. I stand back and look myself over in the mirror. The black dress I chose is sexy, but still classy. It’s form-fitting up top and loose around the skirt that ends mid-thigh. I pair the dress with a pair of cute strappy heels and leave my hair hanging down my back.
Kinsley shows up a little after she gets off work, and I climb into the passenger seat of her car. She’s wearing nearly the same thing, but her dress is red, and it matches her lipstick perfectly. “I’m so excited we’re finally doing this.”
“Me too.” I smile, still thinking about that job and how all my problems would be solved from getting it.
“It’s our night out. So, no talk of money, or jobs, nothing like that. Got it? Unless you’re pointing out a hot guy for me to check out, hush it,” she jokes.
I laugh and agree.
We make it to the bar and grill and the two of us walk inside. Every seat at the bar is occupied, but there are several open tables. We find a seat, and pretty soon the waitress comes over.
“What can I get ya?”
“We’ll both take a beer and a shot of tequila while we check out the menu,” Kinsley says.
The waitress nods and turns to leave.
“Tequila?” I ask, feeling my stomach turn just from thinking of it.
She nods. “Yep. We’re having fun tonight even if we gotta pay for it tomorrow.”
I snort and roll my eyes.
She settles on the two of us sharing the sampler platter of appetizers and she puts in the order the second our waitress is back with our drinks.
“To us and our long friendship,” she says, holding her shot glass into the air.
I clink mine off of hers and then we throw the shots back. I quickly chase mine with my beer, hoping to ease the warmth the liquor brings on. She slams her shot glass back onto the table and lets out a, “Woo!”
I shake my head as a shiver runs up my spine. “Yuck, never again.”
“Oh, stop complaining. This is fun.”
