Page 17
“No problem, Mrs. H. It’s cool, stay out as long as you need to.” Jennifer was seventeen, but sometimes she sounded thirteen. It freaked me out. I’d feel better if a sixty-year-old grandma who’d successfully raised a dozen kids was watching our girl, but Anna was fine with Jennifer’s age. She often told me, “Relax, Jennifer routinely babysits for a handful of local celebrities. She can handle watching just one child for a few hours.” I guess. But I’d still feel better if someone more mature was watching my baby girl.
Jennifer’s eyes swung over to me when she noticed my entrance. Her gaze was approving; she liked my outfit. She always looked at me that way though. No surprise there, most women did. “Oh, hey, Mr. H. How’s it hanging?”
Normally I’d say something witty like, “A little to the left,” but her words instantly reminded me how young she was. With a frown, I crossed my arms over my chest. “You have our number? And the gallery’s number? And the rest of the band’s numbers?” You could never be too cautious about some things, and Gibson was one of those things.
With a patient smile, Jennifer nodded. “Yep. I have everyone’s digits.”
Digits? My lips compressed into a thin line, but I let it go. It would be fine, and Gibson loved her. “Okay, well, no company, no boys, no phone calls, no booze.” Suddenly feeling like I was just as lame as Matt, I shook my head. I needed to stop being so douchey. “You can totally raid the fridge though, and once Gibson is down for the count, feel free to use the pool.”
Jennifer’s smile brightened. “Will do!”
I wanted to lay down some more laws for her, or maybe add some more emergency numbers to her phone, but Anna wrapped her hands around my bicep. “We should go, babe.”
I knew she was right, but I still had to resist the urge to fire Jennifer and take Gibson with us. Wasn’t the woman supposed to be the one stressing over the sitter? I may have been in head-to-toe red, but I suddenly felt a lot less powerful. Luckily, I had a cure for that in my back pocket. Best get this goodbye over with so I could start drinking. “Yeah, okay. Bye, baby girl,” I said, giving Gibson a one-armed squeeze and a kiss.
“Bye, Daddy,” Gibson said in the sweetest, most adorable voice on earth. God, my kid was cute. Spinning on my heel, I stalked away, nearly dragging Anna with me. I will not tear up, I will not tear up. It’s fine to leave her with an underage stranger. Damn it. When did I become such a pussy? I might have to turn in my man card soon.
I felt better once I was in my Hummer, cruising across I-90 toward downtown Seattle. But then I remembered that I hadn’t reminded Jennifer about Gibson’s habit of putting everything in her mouth. We kept the floors pretty clean, and our fun stuff was locked up, but it was amazing what else that kid could find. “Shit,” I muttered, wondering where I could turn around on a bridge. “I forgot to tell Jennifer something. We need to go back.”
Anna gave me a funny look from the passenger’s seat, then dug through her purse and showed me her cell phone. “We can call her if we need to, but it’s fine. I already mentioned the mouth thing, ear thing, and the nose thing. Jennifer is well-prepared. God, that kid is obsessed with openings. The day she finds her woo-ha is the day I’ll need therapy.”
Normally, I would have laughed, but I just wasn’t in the mood at the moment. “Oh…okay, so long as she’s aware…I guess.”
Anna placed her hand on my knee. “She’ll be fine, Griff.” Laying her head against my shoulder she quietly said, “You know, if Kiera, Jenny, and the others saw more of this side of you, they might like you better.”
Surprise washed over me. I thought I was cool with those two. “Kiera and Jenny don’t like me?”
Retreating back to her side of the car, Anna laughed. “I said they’d like you better. At the moment, they think you’re…okay.”
That made me frown. I wasn’t an “okay” person. I was awesome wrapped in awesome smothered in more awesome. They should be squealing to their neighbors that they know me, not that they merely tolerate me, like Anna had implied.
Tossing a playful grin Anna’s way, I murmured, “No, what they need is to see the side of me that you see. The intimate side, if you know what I mean. Then they wouldn’t think I was just ‘okay.’ They’d be clamoring around my door every night, like stray cats trying to get a decent meal.” I winked at her. “I’ll keep myself to myself though, save everyone the grief.”
Rolling her eyes, Anna laughed. “How very noble of you.”
A wide smile broke over my face as I returned my attention to the sea of taillights in front of me. Noble was practically my middle name.
We arrived at the gallery about an hour late, which was right on time in my book. Matt was flustered when he spotted us outside, talking to the fans. Thanks to us and our awesome diehards, Jenny’s gallery was already on the map. It had probably been tagged about three million times tonight already. We were so cool.
“There you guys are. What took you so long?” Matt was dressed to the nines in a full-on tuxedo, and his short blond hair was gelled into rigid, unyielding little spikes. How appropriate. Clearly nervous, he seemed more tightly wound than usual; it looked like he was having muscle spasms he was moving around so much.
Since humor was the best cure for nerves that I knew of, and since fondling myself in front of him was too good of an opportunity to pass up, I cupped myself and said, “What do you think we were doing?”