Page 94 of The Nanny and the Hothead
“Phoebe, can you show Oscar where we line up?” Mrs. Bergen asked.
“Come on, Oscar,” the girl called, taking his son’s hand.
Here goes everything.
They said their goodbyes to Mrs. Bergen and her husband as the kids started toward the playground. They’d barely gone a few yards when Oscar stopped, turned on his heel, then hurried back to him.
“I almost forgot to give you this,” the boy said, unzipping his backpack and removing the old spatula. “You’ll need this today. Good luck with Louise, Dad.”
Mitch stared at the spatula. “Thanks, buddy. Have a great day at school,” he rasped as his son enveloped him in a hug.
The breath caught in his throat. Growing up, he hadn’t had school days like this. His grandpa wasn’t much for affection, and he’d pretty much taken care of himself from the time he was Oscar’s age. He wrapped his arms around the boy as the click of Charlotte’s camera joined the chorus of children’s voices.
“I love you,” he said, the words falling from his lips. How had he never said it before?
“I love you, too,” the boy answered with a toothy grin, then wiggled out of his embrace to hug Charlotte.
And then Oscar was off, backpack swaying from side to side as he sprinted along with Phoebe toward the mass of children. A million competing emotions welled inside of him when he felt a gentle touch on his arm.
Charlotte.
“I didn’t think this would be so hard,” she said with a quiver to her voice.
And he got it. These last few days had been so intense, so life-changing. His world had gone from a solitary existence to reviving Say Cheese, Louise with Oscar and Charlotte by his side. The three of them had been together nonstop. It was the most time he’d spent with his son—ever. And the first time in a long time that he’d felt whole.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. It wasn’t a lie. Her smile, her presence, her hand on his arm was what held him together.
“It’s crazy, huh—this whole parenting thing,” Rowen commented as they watched the children line up and march inside.
“Yeah,” he bit out as a chime cut through the air.
“Sorry, that’s me,” Charlotte said. She pulled her cell from her pocket and stared at the screen. “And our day is about to get crazier.”
He frowned. Crazier? How much crazier could it get? “What do you mean?” he pressed.
“We need to go, Mitch. Ines texted. There’s a change in plans for the food truck today. The location she’d originally booked had to cancel. She sent a new address for the updated spot. And she says that they want us there immediately. Do you recognize it?” she asked, handing him her phone.
He stared at the address, swallowing hard as another wave of emotion crashed into him. The punches kept coming, the turbulence not letting up a fraction. He turned his attention to the old spatula in his hand, recalling the first time he’d held it as a screwed-up seventeen-year-old.
But there was no turning back now—no hiding from the past.
“Yeah, I know it. But I’m not sure the people at this location are going to be happy to see me.”
Sixteen
Mitch
Focuson the task at hand, man!
This is going to be a spot like any other. It’s just a location.
Pull up the truck, park the damn thing on the side of the road, cook, repeat.
And do it with the most alluring redhead on the planet by your side.
Dammit! He was screwed.
And it wasn’t only the push and pull of his feelings for Charlotte playing tug-of-war with his battered heart. No, it was more than that. If merely a glimpse of Charlotte sent him into an intense simmer, the addition of today’s food truck stop kicked up the heat to a fiery inferno on the cusp of boiling over.
