I sit back and wait for her to spit it out. There has to be a good reason she drove an hour through Austin traffic to see me.
“Manita, I actually stopped by to give you a proposition.”
Here we go. When she breaks out the Spanish terms of endearment, I know I’m in trouble. “I haven’t resorted to stripping yet, so if that’s your concern, you should tell Mom and Dad they can stop lighting candles at church.” Not that I haven’t considered it.
“Brady has a friend—”
“You’re trying to set me up on a date? I already told you I’m not dating right now.” Because I, Victoria Duran, have sworn off sex, hot douchebags, and general debauchery for the foreseeable future. But my man-free diet only works because I do my best to avoid temptation.
“No, Tori, not a date. Brady’s friend Ethan Carter raises cutting horses down the road from us. He needs a nanny this summer for his two kids.”
I consider it for three seconds. “No.”
“What? Why?” She pouts.
“I don’t like kids.” It’s not entirely a lie. Kids remind me of what I wanted with Jamie, and Jamie reminds me that I’m a fool. And since that whole hit-and-run he played on my heart last year, kids sound shriller. Whinier. Like bigger pains than they’re probably worth.
“Not true! You love kids! I’ve seen you with our cousins and Izzy. You’re great with kids.”
“They’re family. I’m obligated to love those miscreants.” Look at me with the big words. I didn’t sleep througheveryclass in college.
She fiddles with the hem of her blouse. “Think of it as a way to stay on the straight and narrow. You’re always so responsible and on your best behavior around children.”
This is about her thinking I’m still a party girl.
That’s the thing about a reputation. It’s hard to break and even harder to reinvent.
She shifts into her no-nonsense parental voice. “I really think you should consider it.”
“No.”
“Victoria.”
“Katherine.”
“I realize you’re in the middle of some kind of crisis that’s making you doubt all of your amazing qualities, but you and I both know you’re one of the few people I trust to babysit Izzy.” Kat is crazy protective of that child. I can’t say I blame her. “And she’s really only learned a few curse words from you over the years.”
I have a big mouth. I can’t help it.
My sister waves her hand at me. “You haven’t heard the best part. You’ll get free room and board, so you can save up and finish your coursework in the fall.”
“You want me to live on a farm? Are you out of your mind? That’s the middle of bumblefuck. How am I supposed to keep my bartending job at Wingman’s?”
“It’s called driving. You should try it.” She sighs. “Think of how much we’ll be able to hang out, and you won’t have to live in this hell hole with whatever random people your roommates bring home.”
That part is tempting. Except… “My car isn’t working right now.” The damn rustbucket coughed its last breath last week.
“You can borrow my truck.”
She knows that’s not a good idea.
“What about my lease?” I counter. “I can’t bail.”
“Sublet it. Get one more roommate to take your place. Please! This will be so awesome!” My sister juts out her lower lip. God, she really wants this.
“Stop with the puppy dog eyes.”
“You’d be doing Brady and me such a huge favor if we could work this out.”
