“I’m a shit nanny,” she quips.
“What does that have to do with purposely destroying my property?”
“Just delivered the next notch in our revenge plot.”
“This”—I tap my heels together—“was to get back at me?”
“Sound familiar?” Her left shoulder hitches. “You made the rules, or lack thereof.”
“Revenge,” I mumble. “Such a fickle concept.”
“It’s your turn. Take it or leave it.”
I scowl. “You’re responsible for taking care of my daughter. This isn’t a game.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Our salty bickering is going nowhere fast. My gaze drifts, searching for even ground. I jut my chin at the book still in her lap.
“What’re you reading?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re nosy?” She tries to hide the cover, but I catch the title.
“Art Projects for Kids,” I recite.
Her complexion blazes red-hot to match her hair. “Couldn’t hurt to be better at my job. Just said so yourself.”
My heart thuds, and then begins racing. So much for avoiding bumpy subjects. Dammit, I cannot get soft. This woman is a snake. She called herself one.
“I take it back,” I mutter. “You’re not a shit nanny.”
“That means so much coming from you.” The drip of sarcasm in her voice is worse than a leaky faucet.
“Believe it or not, I’m willing to admit when I’m wrong.”
“Real nice.” Once again, the jab in her tone betrays her.
“Can you say the same, menace?”
Her lips flatten into an irked line. “I’m rarely wrong.”
“Is that attitude what landed you behind bars? Remind me,” I drawl. “How many times have you been arrested?”
“Don’t you have better things to do than bother me?”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” I volley.
“You didn’t answer mine.”
“Ladies first.” I tip the brim of my cowboy hat.
Frankie snorts as if the concept of me being a gentleman is outrageous. “It’s a bit late for a background check.”
“I’m curious, remember?” Which serves to remind me that we’re little more than strangers and I had a hankering to fix that. “We can take this opportunity to get to know each other. That being said, how familiar are you with the inside of a jail cell?”
“Three stints worth mentioning.” She holds up as many fingers, but then lowers the outer two. The middle one is left to flip me off.
“What’s the worst crime you’ve committed?”