Page 94 of Play Fake
“My wife. She wants to know why I haven’t invited her to the lounge. If you weren’t so goddamn loud about it, trying to attract big clients, I might’ve gotten away with brushing her off.”
“Find a way,” he hisses.
“I can’t. It’s my marriage on the line. She wants to see the lounge, and I have to bring her there tomorrow night or she’ll suspect something’s up.”
“Then bring her, sit her at a table, and let her learn how to play while you invite the clients with the most money downstairs.”
“Fine.” I end the call without a goodbye.
When she returns from her walk, I’m in the kitchen preparing lunch for all three of us. Or, rather, I’m taking the soup and salad spread I had delivered out of the packaging and warming a bottle.
“What’s all this?” she asks.
“Lunch. Welcome back from your walk.”
She narrows her eyes at me, and then she gets Jack out of his carrier. “I’d invite you to come with next time, but then I might not get lunch, so forget it.”
I chuckle, and I nod toward the table. She buckles Jack into his highchair while I arrange the food on the table, and I help Jack with his bottle. At eight months, he’s getting decently good at holding it for himself now when we sit him in his chair, and I also spread some puffs on his tray since he’s getting good at attempting to eat them. Or knock them on the floor, depending on his mood. Mostly he knocks them on the floor.
“I’d like to invite you to come with me to the lounge tomorrow night,” I say.
She raises both brows in what appears to be complete shock. “Are you sure?”
No. “Yes.”
“What about Jack?”
“I thought about Madison, but she’s back in school now, and it’ll be a late night. One of my buddies on the team has a baby, and he said Jack could crash there for a night.”
One of the Aces’ tight ends has a son who just turned one in June, and he can’t stop raving about how great his wife is with the baby. I texted him to ask, and he said yes.
“What buddy?” she asks.
“Asher.”
“Oh, yes. I love Desi, and Jack and Jake will be cute together,” she says.
“Yeah. I was thinking he could spend the day there so you could have a day off, and then maybe we can grab him together and go out to dinner on Wednesday night after practice?”
“That sounds great.”
I nod. “I also thought about what you said about the stepmom versus nanny blur, and I realize I’m paying you to nanny, but I want you in whatever role you feel most comfortable in.” I hold up a hand. “This is your place now, too. I think we both want that to be true for more than the terms of our contract.”
She nods, and she tilts her head as her eyes seem to get a little misty.
“I hired you as a nanny knowing I wouldn’t be around as much when I’m in season, and I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear,” I say. “We should set clearer boundaries, and if we need to schedule time off each day for you to do the things you want, then let’s do it.”
“I’d like that. And I knew you’d be busier. I just miss having you around, that’s all.”
“I miss being around, too. For both of you.” I turn to look at Jack, who’s in the process of emptying his tray by sweeping his hands back and forth across it so the puffs go flying, and he giggles his little baby giggle as he does it.
He lightens up the mood in here, but I’m glad we had this talk even though I’m nervous about what tomorrow night will bring.
* * *
We drop off Jack together on the way to the lounge, and the women disappear into the kitchen with the boys while Asher glances at me. “Where you off to tonight?”
“My dad’s running a VIP lounge, and he wants me to make an appearance. You interested?”
