Page 8 of Stirring Up Trouble
Carly furrowed her brow while Sloane lifted her arms in a languid stretch. Gavin forced himself to ignore the briefly exposed sliver of skin between the hem of her long-sleeved T-shirt and the top of her jeans, focusing intently on the empty four-top just over Carly’s shoulder.
“Just for tonight?” she asked, biting her lip in thought.
He shook his head. “I have a priority call in with the babysitting service, but there’s a possibility they won’t find anybody on short notice. I’ll try to figure something out when I’m off on Monday, but I need somebody at least until then.”
“Your mom’s gone all weekend?”
Gavin met Carly’s confused gaze and steeled himself. “I’m Bree’s legal guardian.”
“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” She left the requisite pause for him to fill in the blanks, but he waited out the awkward silence until she continued. “Well, let’s see. Jackson’s cousins are all right about that age themselves, so they’re out, and we only have eight days to go before the wedding, so his mom is up to her eyeballs in last-minute details….”
Despair crept up the back of Gavin’s neck, booting the words right out of his mouth. “I’ll pay really well. She just can’t be alone all weekend.”
“Mind if I ask why not?” Sloane unfolded her legs and turned to give him a quizzical look. “I mean, isn’t thirteen old enough to stay home alone?”
Gavin stiffened. He had this argument all the time with Bree. He wasn’t about to have it with some stranger, even if that stranger’s liquid blue stare could ignite a kitchen fire faster than a faulty broiler. “Yes, technically it is, and yes, I actually do mind if you ask.”
The words came out more clipped than he’d intended, and although Sloane’s eyes flashed as she fastened them on him yet again, she merely lifted a shoulder and returned to her soup. “Okay, then. You’re the boss.”
Carly’s glance flicked from Gavin down to her friend, a slow smile breaking over her face. “Why don’t you ask Sloane to watch your sister?”
“No!”
Gavin was about to apologize for letting the word rudely barge out, until he realized he wasn’t the one who’d said it.
Sloane shook her head, adamant. “Look, I’m sorry you’re in a bind, but I don’t do kids. Plus, I have a ton of work to do. I don’t have time to play Mary Poppins.” Her coal-colored bangs tumbled over one cheek in another firm head shake, and something in Gavin’s chest leapt forward without his consent.
“That’s just as well, because I didn’t ask. Considering the conversation I just overheard, I don’t think whatever you do for a living would make you a good fit anyway.” Okay, so it was a bit chillier than was probably necessary, but still. Bree wasn’t just somekid.
“Excuse me?” The ladder of Sloane’s spine rose in an indignant line, and she leveled an icy stare at him.
“Okay, knock it off, both of you.” Carly stood, knotting her arms over her chest in a way that said she meant business. “Gavin, Sloane writes romance novels. I can personally vouch for her character.”
“And for the record, eavesdropping is rude,” Sloane added on a grumble. “What’d youthinkI did for a living?”
Gavin’s face went hot. “Well, it didn’t sound too respectable. And I wouldn’t have eavesdropped if you hadn’t been so loud.” Okay, so penning naughty books hadn’t crossed his mind as a possibility, and it was a lot more reputable than what his imagination had cooked up, but still. A romance writer who seemed hell-bent on stirring up trouble wasn’t exactly the kind of influence he wanted for his thirteen-year-old sister. He’d just bow out of this gracefully.
“No offense, but my sister’s in kind of a rough place. She’s been struggling in school lately, and I’d prefer someone with more experience who can handle that kind of thing. She’s got a lot of work to catch up on.”
Sloane uttered an unladylike noise. “I canhandle that kind of thingperfectly fine. I’d just prefer not to. Plus, like I said, I have a book to write.” She pinched her thumb and forefinger together, motioning an imaginary pen across a page.
Oh, for the love of God. He’d been trying to be polite about it. Did she have to take it so personally?
“Look, I don’t have time for this,” he started, but Carly cut him off.
“No, you really don’t. It’s Friday, and as much as I’d love to tell you I can run the front of the house without you all weekend, the truth is that I can’t. But I do think the solution is right under your nose.” She tilted her head at her friend. “I meant it when I said Sloane’s a good choice. You already know her, she’s responsible, and she just happens to be looking for a little extra income.” Carly shot her friend a look that dared her to argue.
Of course, Sloane’s infuriatingly pink lips popped open in protest. “Well, yeah, but—”
“And Gavin,” Carly interrupted with her best don’t-fuck-with-me smile. “You said Bree needs help in school, right? What subject?”
“English, but—”
“Perfect,” Carly continued smoothly, and he had no choice but to shut up. “Sloane’s an excellent writer. Look, what doesn’t make sense here? You need someone to look after your sister and tutor her in English. And you”—she pointed a warning finger at Sloane—“are a writer who has the time and could use the money. Hate to break it to you, but despite both of your misgivings, it seems you two need each other. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve really got to help Adrian with the tasting menu.” She narrowed ahelp me out, hereglance at her friend, then lobbed a matching one in his direction before disappearing into the kitchen.
Gavin blew out a hard breath. The restaurant was no place for a moody pre-teen to spend thirty-five hours of her weekend, no matter how badly he wanted to keep an eye on her, but still. Miss I-Don’t-Do-Kids couldn’t possibly be his only hope.
“Just out of curiosity, what’s the going rate for a babysitter these days? Not that I’m considering doing this,” Sloane qualified with a lift of her hand. “Because it’s a really bad idea.”