Playing the Player Read online

  The Good Girl Vs. The Player

  Round one begins…

  Trina Clemons needed the money. Why else would she—the most organized, prepared student in school—spend the summer as a nanny and partner with the biggest slacker ever? Now she’s ready to tackle nannyhood with her big binder of research and schedules. Just don’t ask her about the secret job of “fixing” the bad habits of a certain high school player…

  Slade Edmunds prefers easy hookups, and Trina is definitely not his type. She’s all structure and rules, while Slade wants to just have fun. Fortunately, Trina has no idea about the bet Slade made with his best friend that he can totally get her to unwind by the end of summer…

  Then the weirdest thing happens. There’s chemistry. A lot of it. But nothing gets between a boy and a girl like a big, fat secret…

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Lisa Brown Roberts… How (not) to Fall in Love

  Discover more of Entangled Teen Crush’s books… Blackmail Boyfriend

  The Truth About Jack

  Finding Perfect

  Aimee and the Heartthrob

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 by Lisa Brown Roberts. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Crush is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Liz Pelletier

  Cover design by Kelley York

  Cover art from Shutterstock

  ISBN 978-1-63375-224-5

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition August 2015

  For party boys and good girls everywhere. May you dare to look below the surface…

  Chapter One

  Trina

  Friday, May 31

  “Trina, just think about it,” said Mrs. Gonzalez. “You’ll still be the supervising nanny for the kids. Slade will be your…apprentice nanny.”

  I swallowed quickly, almost choking on the white chocolate cookie crumbs. I hardly ever disagreed with adults, but we were talking serious responsibilities: taking care of two vulnerable five-year-olds for the summer. No way should Slade Edmunds be entrusted with their care. I had to stand my ground.

  I took a breath then spoke. “But if it’s like that apprentice TV show, I get to fire him if he doesn’t work out, right?”

  Dr. Edmunds studied me. She was the apprentice nanny’s mom, and a psychiatrist. No doubt she was analyzing me, trying to figure out how to sway me over to her side.

  “Trina,” Dr. Edmunds said, “I understand if you have a few reservations about working with my son. I know Slade has…um…a…go-with-the-flow personality.”

  I snorted. Go with the flow? That was the understatement of the century. Slade was the original slacker, right down to his pathetic fashion sense, living in old T-shirts, faded shorts, and flip-flops. He even tied back his shoulder-length hair with a shoelace, which most girls thought was all grungy sexy.

  Not that his wardrobe or messy hair hindered his social life. He was one of the most popular guys in school. Everyone loved him. Jocks, stoners, honor kids, geeks, GSA, NRA. Teachers, too, even when he totally screwed off in class. They fell for some sort of charm that everyone saw.

  Everyone but me.

  “Trina, sweetheart, let’s discuss this rationally.” Mrs. Forrester poured me a glass of iced tea, with mint leaves frozen in the ice cubes.

  Curse these desperate housewives and their Food Network tactics.

  It was hard to resist Mrs. Forrester. I’d babysat her daughter, Gillian, since she was two years old. Gillian was a total spaz, but I loved her. I was looking forward to nannying her and her preschool BFF Max Gonzalez, even though they were nothing alike.

  He’s all, “Ew! Gross. I hate dirt. I hate swinging. I’m dizzy. Let’s go home.” And she’s all, “Woo hoo! Let’s go down the slide backward and chase the geese into the pond and wear our lunch boxes on our heads!” Maybe it was true about opposites attracting, at least in preschool.

  “I’m prepared to offer you an increase in your salary if you’ll go along with this idea, Trina.” Dr. Edmunds’s gray eyes locked onto mine.

  Wait, what? Extra salary?

  She kept her gaze focused on me, and it occurred to me that Slade must have gotten his legendary topaz eyes from his dad. Apparently when Slade activated their golden power, half the girls in my school willingly peeled off their panties. It would take a lot more than gorgeous eyes to get me out of my underwear.

  But what had his mom just said about money? As in, a raise? I reached for a snicker doodle. These moms could pry state secrets out of James Bond with their awesome cookies.

  Dr. Edmunds massaged her forehead. She suddenly didn’t seem as intimidating as when I’d first met her. The other moms watched her sympathetically, and I felt a twinge of guilt for asking if I could fire Slade if he didn’t work out.

  “So maybe you can explain exactly what you want me to do,” I said, as the sugar melted my resolve.

  Dr. Edmunds’s face lit up, and I caught an echo of the infamous Slade grin. His grin had magically persuasive properties, too, from what I’d observed when he talked his way out of detentions.

  She cleared her throat and glanced at the other moms, who nodded encouragingly.

  “Here’s the deal, Trina. Slade needs to learn some responsibility. And I know he’s capable of it, even though his father says… Oh, never mind. Anyway, I know how responsible you are. You’re always on the honor roll, and Mrs. Forrester raves about your babysitting skills, and didn’t you organize that Burger Barn boycott last year?” She paused to take a breath.
“Which I supported, by the way.”

  “Slade’s great with kids,” Mrs. Gonzalez piped up. “Max is taking swim lessons from him at the rec center, so I’ve seen him in action.”

  I tried not to snort again. Okay, so it just so happens that I don’t know how to swim (yet), but that’s a whole other story. But seriously? Paddling around with kids in the shallow end and blowing bubbles? How did that compare to having complete responsibility for children all day? Including potential potty emergencies?

  “Just think how much easier it will be for you, having someone to help wrangle the kids,” insisted Gillian’s mom.

  Right. Like Slade was going to be Super Nanny. I fiddled with my binder and the sharp plastic corner dug into my leg. I remembered how I’d been stuck next to Slade during bio class last year.

  “What is in that thing?” he’d asked, staring at my binder like it was a pile of toxic waste.

  “Only my entire life,” I’d told him. “Homework, college apps, articles on time management, recipes, medical records—”

  “You keep your medical records in there?” He’d stared at me in mock horror with those hypnotic topaz eyes, but I was unmoved.

  “Not my medical records. They’re for the kids I babysit. In case of emergency.” Because you never knew when disaster might strike.

  He’d busted a gut laughing in my face. “You’re a trip, Clemons.” His eyes weren’t so pretty then.

  Mrs. Gonzalez’s voice jolted me back to the sugar-fueled tribunal. “We’ll still pay you the full salary we agreed on for taking care of both kids.”

  That didn’t make sense. “Don’t you need to cut my salary in half? So you can pay Slade the other half?”

  The moms gave one another cryptic looks that made my spine tingle.

  Dr. Edmunds sighed wearily. It must be hard being a slacker mom. Or, a mom to a slacker. Whatever.

  “Mrs. Gonzalez and Mrs. Forrester will pay you as agreed previously,” she said. “And I’ll pay you an extra half salary to…um…subsidize the time you spend mentoring Slade.”

  Mentoring? That was so not going to happen. But I was still confused about the money. “Then who’s paying Slade? He’s not going to do this for free, right?” Not even he was that clueless.

  The moms grabbed cookies from the platter. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who used sugar as a stress buster.

  “I’m paying him,” said his mom, her voice soft.

  I stared at her, shocked. What kind of guy would let his mom pay him to be “mentored”? And wasn’t she violating some code of ethics, doing this to her son? Maybe I should report her to whatever board regulated shrinks.

  “He’s not going to know,” she said quickly. “He’s going to think the payment is coming from Max’s mom. We’re presenting this as you being Gillian’s nanny and Slade being Max’s nanny. But of course you’ll be the one in charge.”

  My stomach flip-flopped. “I’m sorry, but I can’t agree to that. It’s not right. And it’s not fair to Slade.” I couldn’t believe I was defending the guy, but this was crazy sauce.

  “All right, Trina. I’ll pay you an additional full salary,” said Dr. Edmunds, not missing a beat.

  What the heck?

  “Think about it, Trina,” said Gillian’s mom. “You’ll earn your full salary from me and Mrs. Gonzalez. And an extra full salary from Slade’s mom. Didn’t you tell me you wanted to buy a new laptop?”

  These women were crazy. Maybe they were drunk. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at their glasses of tea. Suddenly Slade’s mom jumped up and started pacing, which had to be tough in the tight skirt she wore.

  I reached for one of the homemade granola bars she had brought, then almost choked on the chalky, sandy grit lodged in my throat. Yuck. Apparently Slade’s mom was an even worse cook than mine. That might be the only thing he and I had in common.

  “My son is a good guy,” Dr. Edmunds said, and paced some more. “He has a good heart.” Pace. “He just needs to learn some organizational skills.” Pace. Pace. “And he likes kids. This job will give him a chance to show what he’s capable of.” Pace. “To prove to his father…” her voice trailed away and she turned to me, her eyes full of unspoken pleas.

  “I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered. “I never meant to imply that Slade’s a bad guy.” A total player, definitely. A slacker supreme, for sure. “But this whole idea just feels wrong and dishonest. Imagine if he found out—”

  “He won’t find out.” Dr. Edmunds’s voice was firm.

  “Not even his dad knows,” added Mrs. Gonzales.

  Slade’s mom shot her the evil eye, and Max’s mom shrugged, looking embarrassed.

  “This feels like a really bad movie,” I said. “One where you just know everything’s going to blow up in a huge mess at the end.”

  I pictured Slade flipping out on me and shuddered at the image. Most popular guy in school goes ballistic on Bird Brain.

  Bird Brain. I’d been pushing that memory away, but now it overwhelmed me.

  In middle school, I’d started a petition to save a hawk’s nest in a tree the city was going to cut down. But Slade had nicknamed me Bird Brain and totally mocked my petition, so hardly anyone signed it, and the tree was chopped down. And the hawks didn’t make it.

  So yeah, Slade was not my favorite person, not by a long shot. But this whole mentoring idea was whacked out. On top of all the money weirdness, there was the whole question of how incompetent he’d be with the kids. I just knew I’d end up nannying three kids instead of two.

  Then again, if Slade was incompetent, maybe I could justify the extra salary from his mom. A new MacBook Air would be so much nicer than my ancient desktop PC. My mom couldn’t afford to buy me a new computer on her salary.

  “Trina, this will benefit both of you,” Dr. Edmunds said in a soothing voice. I knew she was trying to hypnotize me into doing what she wanted. She probably had years of practice with anxious clients.

  “You’ll have someone to help you with the kids, and Slade will learn from your example.” She paused. “You mentioned having the right to fire him. How about if we compromise? You send me a weekly report on how he’s doing, and if we agree that he’s not improving, we’ll discuss whether or not he stays on.”

  Report on Slade’s progress? My stomach twisted in protest.

  But that laptop was calling my name. And with the money I’d earn, I could help Mom out with expenses. Things had been tight lately, and even though she worked overtime at the hospital, we rarely had money left over for fun stuff. Maybe I could splurge on pizza nights and pedicures for us.

  Max’s mom handed me a coconut macaroon, crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. Sort of like me, since I was about to cave.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll do it. But you all have to swear to me that he will never, ever find out about this deal.” I could only imagine how he’d feel if he found out his mom paid someone to mentor him. Ugh.

  The moms nodded, their faces solemn with promises, and I wondered if this was how it felt to sell your soul to the devil.

  I bet there were some awesome cookies in hell, too.

  Chapter Two

  Slade

  Saturday, June 1

  “I’m sorry, Slade, but that’s the deal. You either go to this interview or give up your allowance for the summer.” My dad leaned against the counter, sipping coffee from his NPR mug. His gray ponytail hung over his shoulder. He was a walking hippie caricature, right down to the beard, Grateful Dead T-shirt, and Birks. With socks.

  I slumped in my chair and stared at the half-eaten homemade granola bar in my hand.

  This sucked. My parents were forcing me to interview for a freaking nanny job. Not a normal job at the mall or a movie theater where I could see my friends and get discounts on cool stuff.

  Who did they think I was, Mary Poppins?

  “Slade, I know you enjoy spending time with Max,” Mom jumped in, playing mediator. She looked innocent, sitting there in her robe and fuzzy s
lippers, but I knew this crazy idea had to be hers.

  Fact: Having one shrink parent sucks. Two shrink parents? Twice the suckage.

  I ran my hand through my hair. “Max is okay, I guess.” I rolled my eyes. “For a five-year-old.” What did she expect? Just because he was in my guppy swim class didn’t make us Vegas road trip buddies.

  “Slade, you just have to go to the interview,” Mom said. She blinked her eyes really fast, which freaked me out because I hated it when she cried. “Just go and see what happens. If you don’t get hired—”

  “Then he’ll find another job, or forfeit his allowance for the summer,” Dad said. “And give up driving his car.”

  “What?” I jerked so violently that coffee spilled out of my mug. Dad glared at me. He bought stupidly expensive coffee beans from some local roaster and acted like the stuff was liquid gold. One time I’d started the coffeemaker and forgot to stick the pot under the filter. Coffee had spilled everywhere and Dad had reacted like I’d kicked a puppy or something.

  “Slade, it’s time for you to start living up to your potential.”

  Not again. If my dad came with a mute button, I’d press it.

  Mom cleared her throat. “I don’t think we need to have this conversation right now, Mike.”

  Dad glared at her. “Karen, we talked about this.”

  “I know, I know.” She sighed. “Which is why he has the interview today.”