Page 236 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
“I’m crying. Fine! What do you need from us, Raz?” the hothead barked.
What did he need?
“It has to be big. I screwed up, and I need to let Libby know that she can count on me.”
“Agreed! You were a major wanker,” Callista chided.
“Remember, Raz,” Calliope cautioned. “If you go big, you might go viral.”
Viral.
But he could do better than viral.
Viral with a purpose.
A plan solidified in his mind—a plan worthy of Libby.
“Do we know where she’ll be tomorrow?”
“She’s meeting her dad,” Rowen replied. “But she’s totally off the grid. Penny says her phone is off.”
Raz nodded, thinking of the saying on the bus. That was the answer.
“Do you know where and when she’s meeting her father?”
“A petting zoo. They’re meeting at two.”
Raz came to his feet and paced as he worked out the logistics in his head. Libby mentioned her family used to visit a petting zoo in Denver when her mom was still with them. It had to be that one.
Briggs cleared his throat. “Champ, you’ve got a fight tomorrow night.”
“I can’t think about that now, Briggsy,” he said, patting the man’s shoulder. “I’ve got an idea. But for this to work, I’ll need everyone to pitch in. We’ll need to work every connection we’ve got.”
“Hello, beefcake!” Mitch bellowed. “Your famous connected friends are standing right here.”
“Brilliant! And music,” Raz added.
“Like for the Chicken Dance, Dad? We didn’t get to do it at my party.”
“That might work, lad. Does anyone have a connection in the music world?” he asked, sizing up the group.
Landon huffed. “Raz, dude?”
“Right, right! And could you also sign a couple of T-shirts for my sisters?”
“Erasmus!” Callista and Calliope shrieked in unison, turning as red as a pair of tomatoes.
“What? I remembered you fighting over a Landon Paige T-shirt after I’d gone all Zen.”
“I can do both,” Landon answered, a blush kissing his heartthrob cheeks. No wonder the chicks went crazy for him. He shook his head. “Enough of bloody that! Aug?” he said, turning to his trainer, the man who’d been like a father to him since he was a lanky fourteen-year-old with a chip on his shoulder. “Are you okay with me doing something a little crazy? Maybe a lot crazy?”
“I’m always on your side, lad.”
“That makes the two of us,” his granny added when a pair of policemen, one tall and one short, sauntered over.
“Mr. Cress, do you remember us?”
Raz’s jaw dropped. Bloody hell! It was the cops who arrested them the night Libby’s deranged chi made her attack him with vibrators. “Yeah, George and Joey, right? What are you chaps doing here?”
