Traded by Lisa Suzanne

CHAPTER 5

“Where’s Kevin?” I ask as I heap my taco with shredded cheese. Shannon decided to treat me to tacos, my number one favorite food in the universe, and we’ve paired our dinner with margaritas, chips, and salsa.

“He went to a happy hour with some friends so we could have a girl’s night,” Shannon says.

“How’s the wedding planning coming along? What can I do?”

“I think we’re all set.” She shrugs. “We’re less than two months away now and now we sort of just rely on everyone we’ve paid to do the things we’re paying them to do.”

“Thanks for letting me stay here in the midst of all this. I’m going to pound the pavement and find something soon to get out of your hair.”

“You know Kev and I both adore you,” she says affectionately. “Stay forever if you want.”

I wrinkle my nose. “I definitely don’t want to hang around for the wedding night.”

She waggles her eyebrows. “Babe, every night’s like a wedding night around here lately.”

“Save the details. But I’m happy for you.” And not at all jealous.

I glance at the rock on the third finger of her left hand.

Okay...maybe a little jealous.

I’m hopelessly single at the moment. Blake couldn’t handle seeing me only once a week on my night off, so he got his rocks off elsewhere. I don’t know why he didn’t just end it with me before cheating on me, but he did what he did and I’m better off without him. We broke up about a week before the quarterback who shall not be named screwed me on his couch while he had a girlfriend, too.

Men suck.

It’s hard meeting someone new when you’re working all the time, even harder meeting someone decent and worth my time. And that’s why I’ve decided to put my love life on the backburner so I can save money to fulfill my dreams.

They say you meet The One when you’re least expecting it, and I have zero expectations (or prospects) at the moment.

All those thoughts lead me back to what happened yesterday, and I gasp as I realize I haven’t told Shannon yet. “Oh my God. You will never guess who I ran into yesterday morning.”

Shannon narrows her eyes at me from across her kitchen table. “Adam Levine?”

I laugh. “No. But close.”

She raises her brows in surprise. “Close?”

“Jack. Motherfucking. Dalton.” I punctuate each word as I say it.

She drops half a taco on her plate, spilling the contents everywhere. “No way! Tell me everything!”

I launch into the story of the guy who was tailing me on the drive for donuts. “I stormed into the store and started yelling at the guy and when he turned around, it was unmistakably him.”

“Holy shit,” she murmurs. “Did he remember you?”

“No.” I shake my head. “At least I don’t think he did. I said go Aces when I left and he sort of looked at me like some memory came up, and then I remembered I said the same thing to him after he kicked me out.”

“You’re just bitter because of the meme.”

I purse my lips at the mention of what followed my night with Jack Dalton. “The meme that you shall remain silent upon for the remainder of your life.”

She nods and flips a hand at me. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, until death do us part or else death will do us part,” she says, repeating my threats back at me.

“I’m glad my threats have stuck after all this time,” I deadpan.

“Well you did say you’d kill me if I ever told anybody, so a girl tends to take those kinds of things seriously,” she quips. “Tell me you at least exchanged numbers with him.”

I snort. “Hardly. Instead I loaded up on extra donuts since he offered to pay for my order. I felt like it was the least he could do.”

A lightbulb seems to go off over her head. “Ahh. That was why you had so many donuts.” She giggles. “So that was it?”

I nod. “That was it.”

“You didn’t mention the meme?”

I shoot her a look. “Uh, that would be a negative, my friend. I have never mentioned the meme to anybody ever, and I never will.” I glare at her. “And you better not, either.”

She rolls her eyes at my warning. “I feel like the fallout from all that was way worse for him than it was for you.”

“I know it was,” I agree. “But that’s only because I was wearing a mask with my cat burglar costume and he was, well, Jack Dalton. Everybody knew who he was and he had a girlfriend.”

I think back to that stupid night.

I guess when the door opened while we were making out on the couch, someone snapped pictures of us. The one that’s been cemented into pop culture history turned out to be an incredibly unattractive photo of me looking like I’m trying to steal his tongue out of his mouth with mine.

The image haunts me to this day, and if he wasn’t Jack Dalton, nobody would’ve given it a second glance. But because he’s a celebrity, it turned into a viral sensation overnight when someone cleverly captioned the photo.

Shannon nods, and then she bursts into giggles out of the clear blue. “The cat burglar’s stealing Jack Dalton’s tongue!”

I purse my lips and stare at her. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s freaking hilarious,” she says, and now she’s laughing so hard tears are starting to fall from her eyes. “You were dressed as a cat burglar.”

I sigh and set my taco down, my appetite suddenly gone as I remember the complete mortification of what happened followed by the stupid meme going viral the next day. That meme was everywhere in the days that followed, and every time I saw it, I felt the sting of rejection. I couldn’t escape it no matter how hard I tried.

I made Shannon swear never to tell a soul it was me, and then I promptly chopped my long, wavy hair nearly to my chin and highlighted it so it wasn’t quite as dark as it was before. Voila. New person nobody would ever recognize by her hair in a meme.

Thank God for stupid costumes with masks.

I’m just thankful Jack didn’t seem to recognize me. I guess the haircut helped, probably added to the fact that I started dying it different shades. I tried platinum, but it wasn’t for me, and now I’ve settled on an earthy and warm amber shade that seems to make my hazel eyes really pop.

Eventually she stops laughing. We finish our dinner, we drink margaritas, we gossip about all the teachers at the school where I used to work—the same one where Shannon still works—and then we call it a night.

Even though Kevin is quiet when he comes in a little after one in the morning, he still wakes me up. I pretend he doesn’t, but it’s just another reminder that I need a new job.

Stat.

I can’t sleep on Shannon’s couch forever, nor do I want to.

But in the days that follow, I can’t find a thing.

Nobody is looking for a live-in nanny in this general area.

There are tons of nanny positions available, but they’re all missing that key component of having my rent paid for while I work.

This is my big, grand plan. Focus on my career. Finish my degree. Save money to work toward my goals. It was all working so well, and then the Van Astors had to go and move away on me.

I throw myself into my schoolwork. I’m acing all my classes. I help Shannon with wedding planning.

A week passes, and my back is stiff from sleeping on the couch.

I take a part-time gig at Old Navy mostly for the discount but also so I can contribute to Shannon’s rent and not totally drain the savings I’ve built over the last two years. I volunteer for the closing shifts to give the betrothed couple some private evening time away from me, and it has significantly cut down on my need to use my noise-canceling headphones.

And another week goes by. I’ve taken to hanging out at Starbucks and Panera just to give Shannon and Kevin more space, but it’s ten at night and I’m sulking on the couch also known as my bed with my laptop on my lap, scrolling all the local sites I know that might possibly have a listing for a live-in nanny.

Still nothing.

“What are you going to do?” Shannon asks.

I narrow my eyes at her. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Of course not, babe. But this couch ain’t that comfy.”

I laugh. “I guess I need to set an end date for this and if nothing happens, I start applying for open elementary school psychologist positions for the fall.”

It’s not what I want, and I can’t seem to force myself to even look at school websites to see if I can find an open position. It feels too much like giving up my dreams, and besides, it’s spring. Even my shitty back-up plan of applying to school districts won’t have a position that starts for several months.

“Oh, Kate. I know how much you hated it. We’ll find you something,” she says, and then her eyes light up like a lightbulb just went off. “And in the meantime, let’s get you laid.”

I laugh and hold up a hand. “I’m good, really. I can’t exactly screw a guy on your couch.”

“So you’ll go back to his place.” She shrugs. “Come on. At least join one of those dating apps. I need to live vicariously through you.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “You’re getting married to the man of your dreams in six weeks, Shan. You have a job you adore. I think if anyone gets to live vicariously around here, it’s not you.”

“My friend Alison met her husband on Tinder,” she hints.

“That’s wonderful for Alison. I’m Kate, and I don’t need a man to make me happy.”

Though the couch is awful lonely and the last guy I had sex with was Jack Dalton. It’s not like I’m saving myself to have sex with him again.

But it was one hell of a damn good time before he mentioned the whole girlfriend thing.

“I’m just trying to pull you out of this funk, girl,” she says.

“I’m not in a funk!” I protest.

“Spoken like a girl truly in the middle of a funk.” She purses her lips as she studies me. “Fine. No Tinder. But Kev has a friend at work who’s super cute. Would you consider maybe meeting him for a drink that could end up back at his place?”

“God, you’re really desperate to get rid of me,” I say.

She lifts a shoulder. “Maybe just for, like, one night...”

“I’ve overstayed my welcome.” My tone is flat, and I’m not mad at her. I’m mad at myself for sleeping on a couch for two weeks sitting in my own feelings rather than trying harder to get out of her hair. “I’ll take on more shifts at Old Navy and see if I can find a place to rent, okay?”

“I don’t want you to do that,” she says. “I’m mostly teasing you. I love having you around. It’s like a sleepover every night.”

I give her a wry smile. Who in their right mind would want a sleepover everynight? “Thanks for letting me stay here. I’ll find something soon. Promise.”

“And Kev’s friend?” she presses.

I roll my eyes and blow out a breath. “Set it up.”