Five First Dates (Sassy in the City 2)

He just took my son, saying, “I didn’t mean to mock your threads, little man. It’s not your fault your mom digs khakis.”

He turned and walked down the hallway, ignoring the towel, and giving me a mouthwatering view of a very tight ass.

Note to self: Maddox was comfortable being naked.

I scooped up the abandoned towel and debated whether that was the world’s greatest news or the worst.

I wasn’t trying to mess with Savannah. I really wasn’t. But I was comfortable in my skin, and while I had long ago come to terms with the shitty moments of my childhood, I did appreciate that her whole family had been good to me. Maybe that had come off wrong though.

And okay, I wanted her to want me. I had to be honest about that.

She seemed unnerved though and I realized as we sat on the floor around her coffee table, which she’d set like a dinner table, that I needed to do exactly what she’d asked for—be her casual friend and nanny, nothing more right now. I had a lot at stake, and some of it had nothing to do with her.

“Tell me about the show,” she said as she took a bite of grilled chicken.

She’d whipped together a salad and chicken. She’d also put on a bra, much to my disappointment.

Rebel Ink was the reason I was in New York City. “We’re filming ten episodes, but it hasn’t been picked up by anyone definitively. They’re going to use the pilot to pitch it. All of the artists are under twenty-four, including the owner. It’s partially scripted, and we’re supposed to already know each other. We’re implying we’ve all been working there a while, instead of hired for the show.”

“Emphasis on youth, hmm.” She glanced at Sullivan, who was sitting next to her, chewing on a stuffed animal. “That makes sense for Brooklyn. It’s a cool opportunity. Are you nervous about being on camera?”

My whole life I felt like I’d been scrutinized. I shrugged. “No. That doesn’t bother me. I think I’m going to have a harder time having to pretend to be pissed at people when they give us fake tension scenes. It’s not my personality. But I really want this to work out, so I’ll do whatever I have to.”

“Request you be the flirt instead of the angry guy, then,” she said. “Since you claim to be so good at it.”

I gave her a smile. “I am charming as hell.”

Savannah rolled her eyes. “What you are is hot. Girls are automatically going to respond to that.”

Interesting. Hot, huh? I’d take that. Guess I wasn’t so much a little brother to her, after all. That particular comment had annoyed me. I didn’t appreciate anyone implying I was immature.

I’d never been immature. At five I’d been getting myself up with an alarm for kindergarten while my mother slept in after working late. My babysitter at night had been a woman who had been very sweet, but eighty-five years old. I’d fed, bathed, and entertained myself. As a teenager, I’d become a chauffeur and babysitter to four siblings. And I didn’t resent one single thing about any of it. I was proud of my mother and me. I loved her and my siblings with all my fucking heart.

But don’t tell me I’m a kid, and don’t tell me how I feel.

Those were my two buttons and Savannah had inadvertently pushed one.

“So you think I’m hot? And here I thought you said I’m barely out of high school,” I said. Then I gave her a smile so she wouldn’t see how serious I was about that. “Doesn’t matter what the show wants. I can only be me. They’ll either be cool with it or not.”

“It’s a huge opportunity for you, though. You’ll get exposure and future clients. You should play whatever character they want you to.”

I stabbed a piece of romaine lettuce. “I’m going to try, but I’m not really that guy. It’s going to be a challenge for me. I believe in being straightforward.”

“What is your end goal? Are you hoping they’ll pick up the show and you’ll move here permanently?”

I shook my head. “I think the odds of that are small, but I guess it is a possibility. That would be amazing, obviously, but I want to be realistic. My thought was more that after the episodes air, people will recognize me as an artist and trust me. My plan is to take the money from the show and open my own shop in Stroudsburg. I want to be close to my family and I would prefer to run my own business.”

“That sounds like a great plan. But if you wind up on the show for a few years, we’re only ninety minutes from your family. It would be easy to see them. How old are all your siblings now?”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and found a picture. It was me and the kids standing in front of Mike’s shop. “This was right before I left.” I pointed to my sister to the right of me. “Bianca is eleven now. She’s a great student, changes her hair color weekly, and looks so much like my mom it’s freaky.”

“Definitely a cool girl,” Savannah said, nodding. “Arms folded, head tilted, purple hair. She knows who she is.”

“That is very accurate. This is Lillian.” I tapped the screen to my sister, who was draped across my back, leaning on my shoulder, her hair covering half of her face. “She’s ten. The most like me. Quiet, serious. Then this is my sister Kyle. My parents took a detour on the feminine names. I think they were thinking she’d be the last kid.” Kyle was flashing deuces, legs apart, pretending to be tough. “She’s eight. Then this little punk is Sebastian. He’s six and fearless. It will be a miracle if they can keep him alive.”

Savannah laughed. “Don’t tell me that. That’s my fear as a boy mom. That Sully will be more than I can handle. I wasn’t a daring kid.”

“Sully will probably be more chill. Sebastian is the youngest of five kids. He’s fucking wild. It was a given.”