kid, does that count?”
I laugh. “I don’t think so.”
“In all seriousness, kids do need socialization, but there are playgroups and other ways to achieve that than sending them to a terrible school where they’re all brats.” He catches himself. “Not saying Kaylee’s a brat. She’s adorable, and, umm, oh God, forget I said anything. No way you’ll hire a guy who calls you lazy and cliché and then says your daughter is a brat. I’m on fire today.”
“You really are. Are you this disastrous during auditions? Because I’m starting to see where you may have a problem.”
Lyric leans back in his chair. “I don’t know. I sometimes think I’m overconfident. They tell you to go in there and own the auditions, but when I do that, I come across as—”
“A pretentious musician who thinks boy bands are lazy and cliché?”
He groans. “I thought we were even. You’re not playing fair.”
I pretend to think about it. I may not be playing fair, but it’s definitely fun playing with him. “I might drop it if you give me the names of those schools.”
“I can do one better. Give me your number and I can text them to you. Then you can call me if you have any questions.”
Ah. There it is.
The industry connection he’s after.
But even though he’s using me, one look at his breathtaking smile and I know I’m going to cave.
What can I say? I’m a sucker for a pretty man.
Chapter Two
Lyric
Ryder Kennedy.
The cap he wears is old and ratty denim. His jaw is unshaven.
He’s not the stunning, put together man he is in the media. Although, he’s definitely, without a doubt, stunning. Just rougher around the edges than I’m expecting.
It’s weird. Sitting here with him. It’s like an out-of-body experience.
And did I really ask for his number?
What is wrong with me?
I’ve seen my fair share of celebrities. I live in LA. It’s impossible to live here and not run into someone famous occasionally. Having an entertainment lawyer for a brother makes it easier too. But I’ve never had a legit conversation with one.
Ryder Kennedy seems so … normal.
I take out my phone and hand it to him before I lose my nerve.
He eyes it.
“I’m not going to sell your phone number for money. I’m not that broke.” In all honesty, I am that broke, but I have a roof over my head and my brother feeds me. The little money I do earn from weekend gigs goes into buying equipment and shit.
Ryder still hesitates.
“Would an email address be better? Since you’re clearly worried about me calling you at three in the morning and breathing heavily to creep you out.” I’m only half-joking.
“Email addresses are easier to change than phone numbers.” Ryder types in the address and hands it back. “Sorry.”
“I get it. Guys like me only wish we could reach the level of fame where our privacy is under constant threat.”
“You say that like it’s a good thing.”
“No, I understand it’s a nightmare, but it’s also an indication of success. If that makes sense.”
He takes a sip of his now cooled coffee. “It does. Doesn’t make me feel any better about it, though.”
“I don’t suppose it would.” I type the school names into a new email, and I’m about to hit Send when I pause.
I glance up at Ryder, then back down at my phone, doing something either bold or stupid. Perhaps both. I punch in my phone number and hit Send before I can stop myself.
“I left you my number in case you change your mind about the nanny thing.”
“Right.” Ryder tries to cover a yawn. “Nanny thing.”
There’s something in his tone I can’t pinpoint. Disbelief, sarcasm, or maybe it’s just exhaustion.
“Not sleeping?” I ask.
“Not enough.” His bright blue eyes, the brightest blue I’ve ever seen, pierce through me all of a sudden. “Okay, Mr. Nanny. Here’s a question for you. Your kid is wetting the bed. Every. Night. You spend most of your time redoing their bedding, and neither of you are sleeping. What do you do?”
“Easy. You layer the bedding. Mattress protector, top sheet, mattress protector, top sheet. So when the accidents happen, you rip the top layer off and put her back into bed. She’ll grow out of it eventually.”
Ryder’s mouth drops open. I guess he wasn’t expecting me to have an actual answer. I don’t look like a typical nanny, and it’s not like this is my first choice in career, but I do know a few things.
I’m currently doing gigs on the weekends