Page 44 of Last on the List

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I’m irritated.

In fact, I’m downright bothered.

She wasted no time starting the hunt for that summer fling she mentioned. And I can’t help but wonder if that’s a good idea? My hickey is still on her body, for Christ’s sake.

“That’s good you’re going on a date, Cozy,” my daughter’s voice chimes in, ripping my eyes away from Cassandra’s body in that outfit. “You said you haven’t had time to find a boyfriend since you moved back to Boulder.”

Moved back to Boulder? When did she leave? And when was she looking for a boyfriend? She said she just wanted a summer fling. What the actual fuck? How does my kid know more about the nanny’s life than I do? I’m the one who pays her every week.

Cassandra’s cheeks flame red, and her eyes notably flash to mine. “It’s just for drinks.”

“But it could turn into a boyfriend, and I think that’s great,” Everly sings merrily like she’s a step away from being the flower girl at Cassandra’s wedding. “Now I don’t have to find you a boyfriend like I did for my friend Brooklyn.”

Triple fuck.

“What do you know about boyfriends?” Calder takes the words right out of my mouth as all eyes swerve to my child.

Everly’s lips part. “Um…” She looks up at Cassandra like she’s going to save her.

“You might as well just tell them,” Cassandra whispers.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Tell us what?”

Everly looks decidedly guilty. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Who?” my brothers and I all bark in unison.

“Hilow from down the block.”

“The Fredrich’s kid?” I ask, and she nods. “Absolutely not.”

“They don’t talk,” Cassandra interjects with her hands raised defensively. She moves to stand by Everly as she shrinks further and further into her seat. “They are literally the non-talking kind of boyfriend, girlfriend. He’s not even a contact on her kid’s messenger app. I checked.”

I exhale a slow breath to calm down the anxiety that bubbled up to the surface at the idea of my eleven-year-old having a boyfriend. She’s too young for boys. If she starts now, who knows what she’ll be getting up to in high school.

“Are you certain?” I nearly growl, shooting angry eyes at Cassandra for not telling me this fun fact. She texts me about Everly’s bowel movements, but this doesn’t warrant a message?

“We don’t talk.” Everly’s nose wrinkles like the idea of it disgusts her. “Because…fudge the patriarchy!” She thrusts a tiny fist up high, and I think I have a mini stroke.

Cassandra’s eyes widen as she looks at me. “I didn’t teach her that.”

“That was me!” Dakota cheers, thrusting her fist into the air in solidarity.

I cradle my head in my hands, my head whirring with all that’s coming at me within the span of five minutes. My God, I run a company with nearly a hundred employees, but a hot nanny and one night of poker with my kid has me seeing spots.

“Anyway…we best get while the getting’s good,” Dakota sings, grabbing Cassandra’s arm and dragging her away from the table as she waves. “Don’t want to be late for our date.”

Without thinking, I stand and blurt out, “What about your shirt?” My eyes are locked on Cassandra’s as blood roars in my ears.

“My what?” She looks curiously at me and then at her friend.

I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, but I figure I’m all fucking in at this point. “That tank top you wore the other day by the pool.”

A wrinkle creases between Cassandra’s eyebrows. “I literally have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“It said something about you only dating yourself,” I sputter, sounding like a complete moron, so I add weakly, “Or something like that.”

Her smile fades, and I swear the pupils in her eyes dilate as she gazes back at me. Her tone is soft when she replies, “It was just a shirt, Mr. Fletcher.”