“This place is pretty high-end.”
Grant looks up from his tuna sashimi. “It is?”
His date smiles at him, like she’s amused by his naivety. “Yeah! Celebrities eat here all the time? How’d you even get a reservation?”
He picks up the tuna as delicately as he can, watching woefully as it slides back onto his plate. “Crap,” he says, ignoring the question. “I mean, shoot.”
“Shoot?” she asks, taking a sip of sake.
He said shoot out loud. In front of real people. Actually, he’d spoken like a normal person, before reminding himself that he couldn’t curse in front of the baby.
First: crap is barely even a swear.
Second: the baby is not here, and he keeps forgetting that. Like he’s going to look over to the right and Phillip will be bouncing in a high chair, staring wide-eyed at the colorful, raw fish.
“Sorry,” Grant says, finally poking through his food with one chopstick. “Force of habit.” He offers a smile while trying to pick up his tuna, and almost knocks over his drink. “Double shoot,” he says, in earnest.
His date laughs. “Careful,” she teases. “There could be kids nearby.”
Grant steadies his glass, tries to laugh back. It does not come out as smoothly as he hopes. “There are no kids here,” he offers. Do something with your hands. Look busy! He slicks his hair back down. “I checked.”
She lifts her eyebrows.
“Not like-” Grant says, gesturing with his hands. “I work with kids. I work with a kid. A baby. One baby.”
She tilts her head. “I thought you worked in tech?”
“My boss does,” Grant says. “I’m a nanny.”
His date gives him a curious sort of look. Not mean, not disgusted, just slightly taken aback. She seems to be considering her words. “I didn’t know nannies could afford places like Nobu,” she says.
He lets out a sigh of relief that had been waiting in his chest. “She pays me way too well,” Grant says. This is good. His date is good. “I told her I was going on a date and she was all ‘Oh my god, you have to go to Nobu! Use my name! Do you want my credit card? Do you have something to wear?’”
His date does not find his impression of Skye’s voice as endearing as baby Phillip finds it. This might cause a problem. “She sounds involved.”
Grant chuckles to himself. “Yeah,” he says. “She’s pretty great.”
“So you like being a nanny?” she asks.
“I love it,” Grant says. He hopes his grin looks as geniune as it feels. “It’s a really great job, and I love Phillip so much.”
“Phillip?” his date asks. She’s starting to smile back. She thinks he’s being cute! He is so good at this!
“The baby,” Grant says. “Named after his grandpa.”
“Aw,” she coos. “That’s so cute.”
Grant’s grin gets brighter. “Do you want to see pictures?” he asks. “I have a lot of pictures.” He’s already pulling out his phone. “Like, a lot.”
He doesn’t notice the way his date has begun to look at him. “Um-” she politely starts.
Grant looks up. “Something wrong?”
She looks like she’s about to say something. Probably something polite and clever, when a waiter claps a firm hand around Grant’s shoulder. He almost drops his cellphone. Which would ruin his baby pictures.
Well. They’re on the cloud. But it’s the sentiment of the matter.
“Where’s the boss?” the waiter asks. Which is not an uncalled for question. Skye gets dinner from this restaurant at least twice a week, and since Grant’s her go-to pickup guy, he’s pretty familiar with the wait staff. And the kitchen staff. And the bartender.
“She’s um,” Grant coughs out, while offering an apologetic look to his date. “She’s busy.”
The waiter looks at his date, at his food. “Grant’s a regular with us,” he explains. “We try to take good care of him.”
His date nods. “I can tell,” she says. “The food is excellent.” She means it, and that makes Grant much less embarrassed.
“Can I get you anything?” the waiter asks. “Something to take home to Skye?”
“Oh crap,” Grant says. “I totally forgot to ask her.” He considers it for a moment. “Can you make a to-go bag for her?” Grant says. “We’re still working on our meals.”
“Of course,” the waiter says. “We’ll add it to her tab.”
“Actually!” Grant says, maybe too quickly. “I’m paying. For food tonight.”
The waiter gives Grant a curious glance, then looks over to his date, like this is somehow her fault. “Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.”
Grant smiles as the waiter leaves, turning back to his fish. “They’re great,” Grant says. “Last time we were here, they brought out rice puree for Phillip!”
His date is giving him an odd kind of smile. “You’re completely oblivious to this kind of stuff, huh?”
Grant blinks. “What kind of stuff?”
“You’re like, living this super luxurious lifestyle but you’re still so grounded.”
“It’s just my job,” Grant offers, taking a sip of water. “I didn’t think much of it.” Not of the job. Not of taking care of Phillip. That’s second nature. That doesn’t take thinking.
But he thinks about his boss a lot.
“You’re a really cool guy, Grant,” she decides.
Grant beams. “Thank you,” he says. He’s going to ask her if she wants to think about dessert. He’s going to go there.
Which, naturally. Is when his phone rings. And he has it on do-not-disturb, so he’d only be able to hear calls from his favorite contacts. And he only has one person in his favorites.
“I’m sorry,” Grant says. “It’s my boss.”
“Oh,” his date says.
Grant presses the green button, and Skye’s voice fills his ear. “Hey,” she says, casually. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Anything,” Grant says, picking his napkin off his lap. It’s been a nice date, but if Skye needs him- Well, there’s not much he can do.
“When you get the chance, can you get baby formula?” Skye asks. “Phillip’s going through the stuff since we starting weaning him off my boobs.”
“Is he hungry now?” Grant asks.
Skye considers it. “A little,” she says. “But I think I have some in the fridge, he’ll be fine until we see you tomorrow.”
“It’s no problem!” Grant says. “I’ll get some right away. Be there soon!”
He hangs up, rises from his seat and manages to bump both of his knees against the table. “Ow,” he says. “Ow, sorry,” he offers. “My boss needs me. So just let me-” He catches the waiter’s eye. “Pay,” Grant continues. The waiter comes over with the to-go bag and a concerned frown.
“You haven’t even looked at desserts yet,” he says.
“Skye needs me,” Grant says. He pulls out his wallet, hands over his debit card. His account has too many numbers in it, anyway. Skye pays him too much. “So I’ve got to go.”
His date says nothing, just regards him with what he knows is resentment. He just can’t do much about it. “An emergency, huh?”
“I’m sorry,” Grant says. “The baby’s hungry.”
“She can’t buy formula?” his date asks.
“It’s complicated,” Grant explains. “She’s a busy woman.” The check comes back and he signs it, and grabs the to-go bag from the table. “I had a great time,” he says, rushing for the door. “I’ll call you!”
He’s outside in the cold air before he can get a proper response. He catches a quick view of the skyline as he looks up, just to survey the night, and smiles. He heads east for the subway, swinging Skye’s dinner in hand.
He lets himself into Skye’s apartment with his key. She’s painting her toenails on the couch with the fan on, and she almost falls off her seat. She knocks the polish off the couch, and it hits the floor.
“Grant!” she exclaims. “Holy crap- Shoot. Holy shoot!”
“Hi!” he says, rushing to pick up the bottle of red polish she knocked over. “Sorry, did I take too long to get here?”
She shakes her head, taking the bottle from his hand and screwing the cap back on. “I really didn’t expect you here so quickly.”
He holds up a Duane Reade bag. “I got formula.”
“Grant,” she says. “You didn’t have to do it right away.”
They’re at the same eye level right now, with her on the couch and him, kneeling on the floor. She wrinkles her nose. “Are you wearing cologne?”
He gives her a sheepish smile and offers her his hand. She takes it with a huff, lets him lead her over the nail polish spill. “You needed me.”
“It could’ve waited,” she says, heading for the kitchen. “Phillip’s asleep now, anyway.” She’s still leading him by the hand. Grant’s certainly not going to pull away.
“It’s important,” Grant insists.
She shrugs, grabs the sponge. “If you say so,” she says.
It’s only when she turns to head back to the living room that she seems to notice a couple things about Grant, all at once. “You did your hair,” she says. “And your clothes are-” she gestures with the sponge. She pauses.
Grant rubs the back of his neck. “I, um-” He sighs. “I had a date.”
Skye goes from confused to indignant in seconds. She even stomps her foot. “Grant Ward!” she hisses. “You ditched a date to buy me baby formula?!”
“I’m sorry?” he offers. “Please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad,” she says. “I’m completely floored. Why would you do that?”
He’s still not sure she isn’t mad. “Because I wanted to help you!”
“You can’t just ditch a date to buy me baby formula,” she insists, her voice higher than it normally is. “You can’t just do that to a person!”
“She was fine!” Grant insists. “Really! She understood!”
Skye pinches the bridge of her nose. “You have to call her,” Skye says. “You have to call her right now and say this was one big misunderstanding.”
“But the formula!” Grant protests.
“You got it for me!” Skye says. “You did a great job and I’m thankful, but you shouldn’t have just ditched a date for it!”
“I’m sorry,” Grant repeats.
She sighs. “Don’t be sorry,” Skye says. “I wouldn’t have called, if I’d known.”
“But I want you to call,” Grant says. “I want to be there, whenever you need me.”
Skye bites her lip, but only for a second. “Call her back.”
“Are you sure?” Grant asks.
“I’ll do it if you don’t,” Skye says.
Grant literally cannot dial fast enough.
She doesn’t pick up. And Skye is just staring at him, expectantly, and he has to tell her that he messed up. “She’s not answering,” Grant says.
Skye runs a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, Grant,” she says.
“Don’t be,” he says. “I told you, Skye. I want to help you.”
“Yeah but,” Skye continues. “How many times have I just called you and made you drop what you’re doing? I’m sure you have your own life and-”
“It’s not important,” Grant stresses. “I don’t care about that. I care about Phillip. I care about you.”
She’s chewing on her lip again. “Skye,” he offers. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you mad. I’m just trying to help.”
“I-” she says. “I feel bad. Like I’m always getting in the way of your life.”
“This is my life,” he insists. Which sounds kind of weird, since it’s also his job, but he means it. “Skye, please-”
She sucks in her cheeks. Nods. “I need to ask you something,” she says. “But I need to think about it. Just get the nail polish remover and meet me in the living room.”
He nods dully. He’s messed up. He’s messed up bad and she’s mad. Oh God. She’s going to fire him.
He puts the formula away with shaking hands, and tries not to show any other signs of distress. She likes him, right? She does. Skye likes him. And he likes her. And Phillip. If she fires him, he’ll never see Phillip again.
The thought makes his chest ache.
She’s sitting on the couch again when he brings her the polish remover, one long leg tucked under her body.
“So,” Skye says. “I want to make you an offer.”
He sits down on the loveseat opposite the couch. Where he held Phillip for the first time. He might never hold Phillip again. How many things could he possibly mess up in one night?
“If I’m majorly overstepping, you have to let me know,” Skye says. “But. Tonight, when you rushed over, you kind of proved something to me.” He sucks in a breath. Here it comes. “You’re more than just my nanny. You’re like my family.”
What?
She nods at him, and continues. “Like, only family would do what you did for me. And I know I pay you and I’ll increase your pay or just give you access to my bank account, but, uh-” She smiles. “I think you should move into my apartment. Live here full-time. So I can take care of you, too.”
He should probably say something. Something like words. “Thank you,” he says. Good. That’s good!
She smiles wider. “Plus, now I can know when you’re on dates, so I won’t call you!”
He’s smiling, too. “I’ll never go out again,” he promises.
She tilts her head. “Don’t do that,” she says.
“Sorry,” he replies.
“Try calling your date again,” Skye says. She inches towards him. “Do it.”
“She’s not going to answer,” Grant says. “She probably hates me.”
“Call her!” Skye insists.
“Okay, okay,” he relents, because he can never say no to Skye. He pulls out his phone. “Hold on-”
Phillip is crying. His baby needs him.
Sorry. Skye’s baby.
“I’ll go,” Grant says. “He’s probably hungry. Can you warm up some formula?”
Skye gives him a knowing grin. “Good thing you bought it, right?” she says.
“Oh also I forgot to tell you,” Grant says, headed for Phillip’s room. “I brought you a doggie bag!”
“You’re the best roommate-nanny ever!” Skye calls after him.
He hopes he can live up to that.