“Same guy as two days ago? Big nose, droopy ears, acne craters across his forehead?”
She stomps her foot, grinning. “Stop it. He’s not like that.”
Yeah, that’s true, he’s not. He’s actually quite good looking. “Quasimodo, was it? The guy’s name?”
She giggles.
Gigi has the whole Harley Quinn vibe going on. She is the prettier of the two of us, the flirty one, the funny one. The sexy one. Just one year younger than me, she’s less my sister and more my best friend. Guys tend to fall in love with her all the time.
Most of the time she doesn’t even pretend to notice them.
Then I spot someone walking our way and sigh. “What about Merc?”
“What about him?”
“Is he coming with you?”
Our brother, Mercury Tyson, aka Merc, reaches us and takes off his supersonic mega earphones that make him look like the male incarnation of Leia from Star Wars. He gives us a toothy grin.
“What are you doing here?” Gigi demands.
“Hitching a ride with you.”
“You’re so not.”
“I so am. Not letting you ride with that creepy guy alone again. He may stick his tongue in your ear or grab your boob.”
“You’re an idiot,” Gigi grumbles, and turns her back to him and her attention back to me. “Hansen.”
“Huh?” I’m checking in my bag for the address and phone number of my client, afraid I left them at home.
“Matthew Hansen? The guy you’re about to meet? That one. Do you know what you’re up against?”
I roll my eyes. “He’s just a man. He needs a babysitter. I can do this in my sleep. What else is there to know?”
“Oh, Sis, you have no clue.” Gigi leans in to whisper in my ear. “He’s hotter than a nuclear explosion, girl. Panty-melting material. Italian ancestry, lumberjack muscles, huge—”
“What are you two gossiping about?” Merc gives us the evil eye.
“He’s also a jerk,” Gigi goes on, ignoring him.
For real?
Merc huffs. “Hansen is a decent guy. Guy’s a mechanic, works down at Jasper’s Garage. Stop repeating whatever you hear.”
“Oh, shut up, Merc.” Gigi sticks her tongue out at him. “The man had two nannies leave already, in the space of a week, and nobody knows why. You know nothing about him.”
I gape at her. “Two? What happened?”
“They just walked out, said he was rude. The whole town is buzzing about it.”
But I never heard anything.
Then again, I’d been so busy between my graduation from school, sending out college applications and looking for a job that I haven’t done much else these past two months.
“I can handle rude,” I tell her, and look, my bus is arriving. “Wish me luck. And be careful with Quasimodo.”
“His name’s Quinn!” she yells at me as I board the bus. “You’ll love him.”