How To Wife Your Nanny A Billionaire Single Dad Romantic Comedy- Melinda Minx Page 0,6

The wind from the Bay blew it right back out immediately.

“We’ll go back next week, and I’ll make sure she knows I’m sorry.”

Lacey smiled. “Can she read me the other books?”

“Don’t worry, she’s not mad at you. I think she likes you.”

I didn’t think a “sorry” was going to cut it. I called my secretary from the library the moment I’d realized who Lacey was. To be honest, I’d delegated the work of reaching out to her back when Naomi had gotten into the Gobblegurt books. My secretary had just told me that we’d simply sent Lacey some boiler-plate email asking her to contact us. Since she hated my company and my guts, she’d never responded to it.

If she had responded, I was going to take some of my valuable time to at least talk to her on the phone and renegotiate her contract.

It was not like her books were making us any money. That’s why I screwed her over in the first place. Since Naomi liked her books though, I would have bent over backward and given her any kind of bullshit sweetheart deal she wanted to get her to keep making them.

Lacey was pissed off at me with good reason, and I’d have to do some work to get her to see me in a different light.

I smiled thinking about it. It had been a while since a woman made me work for it.

Silas came into my office with a big shit-eating grin on his face.

“You close a deal, or—”

“Fucked a girl.”

“A girl?”

“Oh, come on, she was over eighteen.”

“Over, or—”

“Fine. She was eighteen. But it was past her birthday, so she was over all the same.”

“Did you ask to see her driver’s license?”

“She couldn’t drive and didn’t have one, so I had to Google her.”

I laughed, mostly at Silas rather than with him. He frowned at me.

“You want the details, Noah? I know your dick hasn’t been wet since fidget spinners were cool.”

“That’s not so long ago.”

“Over three years ago,” Silas said.

Fuck. Time went fast. “Well, I’ve slept with a woman since then, so you’re wrong.”

“When was the last time?”

When I had to start counting the months in my head, I realized it had been quite some time. I frowned, which made Silas smile.

“So anyway,” Silas said, “I met her at this party. She was one of those girls who holds the trays of drinks.”

“Classy.”

I put myself through his story. He always liked to tell me about his escapades. I never got the impression it was strictly to brag—though that was always part of it—but more to try to “get me back into the game.”

Silas Winters had been my best friend since high school, and my business partner since we founded Blackwinters Publishing together. He was an absolute dick, as anyone who was close to him would tell you, but he was a dick with a heart. He wanted what was best for me and my daughter, and he’d never tell me in so many words for fear of “looking like a pussy,” but he wanted Naomi to have a mother, and his misguided way of trying to make that happen was by aggressively being my wingman even when I didn’t need one.

“Cool your jets, Goose,” I said.

“What?”

“Goose, like in Top Gun.”

“Why am I Goose? The guy with the goofy mustache? Do you think I look like Goose?”

He pointed to himself. To his credit, he looked nothing like Goose. He had blonde hair, but it was immaculately styled rather than Goose’s 80’s buzz cut. He had perpetual stubble rather than a cheesy mustache. His body looked like he could be in the Air Force, but only because he worked out obsessively, not because he’d ever been anywhere close to real combat. “You think I’m Goose? Fuck that. I’m Tom Cruise.”

“So you’re a 5’2” Scientologist?”

“You’re the one who said I was Goose, which would make you the 5’2” Scientologist.”

“I think Tom Cruise is closer to 5’8”,” I said.

“So when I’m Tom Cruise, he’s 5’2”, and when you become Tom Cruise, he gains like five inches out of nowhere?” He pulled out his phone and started tapping away on the screen. “I just Googled it. He’s 5’7”.”

“Whichever way you look at it, you’re the wingman. You’re the one trying to get me laid.”

I considered telling him about Lacey. He’d make fun of me too much for it to be at all worth it. We were good friends, but being good friends meant giving each other a lot of shit, and