The Setup and the Substitute by Jiffy Kate

Chapter 8

Sophie

The weekly Callahan Dinneris inescapable. You have to be sick or out of the country to be excused without a heavy tongue lashing from my mother. I’d rather walk over hot coals than endure that, which is why I never miss.

Walking into the foyer of my parents’ house, I can hear my family before I see them. As I make my way down the hall and into the main dining room, I’m met with a familiar scene.

Grayson and our father are talking business.

Eleanor and Liam seem to be in deep discussion—about politics, if I had to guess.

Harry and Ben are standing in the corner, drinks in hand.

When my mother notices me, she smiles. “I was getting ready to send out a search party.”

That’s her nice way of telling me you’re late.

“Sorry,” I say, leaning over to kiss my father’s cheek and slipping into the seat beside Liam. “I was late getting away from school and then I had to run a couple of errands before I went home to change clothes.”

“How’s the job hunt going?” Bennett asks as he takes a seat across the table. Out of all my siblings, he and I are closest, both in age and personalities. On the outside, he looks like the rest of my brothers—crisp dress shirt, pressed slacks, well-groomed, and living up to the Callahan name.

But under that outward persona is a rebel, tattoos and all.

He bucks the system, but only when he’s passionate about it. Not like kids who are rebellious just to be rebellious, Bennett only goes against the flow when he feels like there’s an injustice.

“Actually, I’m going to take a job as a nanny for a few months.”

The table grows quiet and everyone’s eyes turn to me.

“A nanny?” Eleanor asks in disgust.

“What about finding a teaching position?” my mother asks as she slips into her seat at the opposite end of the table.

Taking a fortifying breath, I plaster on a smile and reply to my sister. “Yes, a nanny, to two adorable kids.” Then I turn to my mom, “And I’m still going to apply for jobs and go on interviews, but I think this will be a good addition to my resume.”

My mother knows that job hunting hasn’t been going very well. She’s constantly asking for updates and trying to pressure me into accepting her help. Between her and my dad they know every person in power in New Orleans, if not the entire state of Louisiana, including school administrators. When I first graduated from college, they basically already had me hired at the same prep school I went to.

No, thank you.

When I get a job, and I will, it will be on my own merit. And it will be in a place I can make a difference.

“One of these days you’ll figure out what you want to do with your life,” my father adds. I love when he does that—patronize me and belittle my choice of career all in the same breath.

“Who will you be working for?” Harry asks as dinner is served. “Anyone we know?”

Picking up my fork, I poke at the mixed greens. “No, well, at least I don’t think so. His name is Owen Thatcher. He pitches for the Revelers.”

“He?” my mother asks, her fork frozen above her plate. “Does he have a wife?”

“No, he doesn’t, which is why he needs me,” I answer simply. I can only imagine what’s going through my mother’s mind at the moment, but I’m sure she’s going to tell me, along with the rest of my family.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” she asks, a look of disapproval on her beautiful face. We look alike—same blonde hair and light blue eyes. But I got my father’s skin tone, the splattering of freckles across my nose and my ability to tan, which only makes my mother preach at me constantly about how too much sun exposure leads to early wrinkles.

I shrug, showing nonchalance. “I think it’s a perfectly good idea. Molly and Ryan, his children, need a nanny. They like me. I like them. And it’s a good job. He’s paying me well and it’ll give me a chance to continue to search for the perfect teaching job.”

She rolls her eyes. “A single man hiring a young nanny has one thing on his mind. Not to mention, he’s a baseball player and we all know what those men are like.”

There’s a scoff down the table and someone clears their throat, probably my dad.

I inhale and then exhale slowly before answering. “Yes, he’s thinking his children need someone to take care of them so he can do his job without worrying about them while he’s gone. And just because he’s a professional athlete doesn’t mean he’s a manwhore.”

That elicits even more throat clearing and a stifled cough, but no one says anything.

However, the look on my mother’s face conveys plenty. With a raised eyebrow and lips pressed into a thin line, she lets me know she disagrees and doesn’t like it one bit. Which doesn’t surprise me because she’s never been fond of athletes. I dated a football player in college and he was never up to her standards. According to her, athletes have too much testosterone and not enough brain cells.

Have I mentioned how judgmental Kitty Callahan is?

The judgiest.

“Well, I think it sounds fun,” Bennett says.

I know he’s trying to diffuse the situation, but his use of the word fun makes me cringe. My entire family thinks I’m coasting through life, riding the wind from one adventure to the other. They’re either waiting for me to grow up one day or have already written me off as never being a contributing member of this family.

“Who’s attending the benefit for Charity House next week?” Liam asks, giving me a wink across the table, and I’d like to kiss him for changing the subject and taking the spotlight off me, if only for a moment.

I’m sure my mother will have more to say about it, but at least the next conversation I have with her will be over the phone and I can hang up on her. If I’m lucky, I’ll have the excuse of work to keep me out of the hot seat at the weekly Callahan Dinner for a while.

Kitty Callahan would croak if I brought two rambunctious children to her dinner table.

Which leads me to think it might not be that bad of an idea after all.

I feel a smirk creep up on my lips as I take a bite of the salmon and Liam catches my eye across the table, giving me a shake of his head, like he knows the devious thoughts running through my mind.

If Bennett is the rebel, I’m the wild card.

And I wouldn’t want it any other way.