Page 11 of Worst Nanny Ever (Babes of Brewing #2)

Something about the way she says it leaves me with little doubt that she’s going to either miraculously fix this situation or screw it up beyond any shadow of redemption.

And here’s the danger of Hannah: I should be worried enough about the second possibility that I’m not willing to hand my problem over.

But I want to see what she does. The way her mind works intrigues me.

“I’m a little afraid of you right now,” I tease.

“You should be.”

I pause, weighing what I should say, then figure I might as well go for it. “I think this woman knows who my father is. It’s not a secret, really, but I don’t want everyone around town talking about it. Especially right now. So maybe don’t piss her off too much.”

“Aren’t you mysterious…”

I drop my gaze, never eager to talk about my past, but I know Hannah’s not going to treat me any differently if she knows.

So I admit, “My dad was a famous actor. Back in the day. Like seriously back in the day. By the time I was born, his career was basically over. He did a few made-for-TV movies and some producing but nothing else that hit it big.”

“What was his name?” she asks, her eyes flashing with excitement. “You know I have to know now.”

“I don’t want this getting around, Hannah.”

“Not even to Sophie and Briar? ”

I sigh. “I don’t care. Sophie might already know. It’s not really a secret, just not public knowledge.”

“Ooooo-hoo no, she doesn’t. She would definitely have told me something like this. It’s in the girl code.”

A smile ghosts across my face. “My father’s Evan Thomas. You know, from those Ships Ahoy movies.”

There were six of them, all about a nautical detective. They were insanely popular, and genuinely terrible. I had to watch them almost weekly, because my father was an aging narcissist who thought his children should grow up quoting him.

After the last Ships movie came out—the worst reviewed by far—his career took a nosedive and never recovered. He spent the rest of his life dreaming up how he could bring back the success he’d lost.

Hannah whistles, her gaze skating over my face. “I can see the resemblance now. I can’t believe you’ve hidden this from me. This is big.”

“I wasn’t hiding it. My dad and I were estranged.

We barely had anything to do with each other.

He never forgave me for not wanting to follow in his footsteps.

” I smile at her, because I know she’ll like this part.

“He had this idea for a TV series called Ships Ahoy Junior . Had a script written and everything. He made me read for some producers.”

“You could have been a star?” she asks, her eyes bright with humor.

“Some would argue that I am.”

Her full lips lift on one side, the motion making her freckles shift slightly. “Oh, Travis, no one would argue that.”

“You wound me. But, yeah, I had no interest in being Ships Junior . My father found a producer who was interested in making it, but when it came down to it, I had to tell him no. I didn’t like everyone staring at me.”

She nods. “So naturally you became a musician. ”

I smile at her, which is shocking, because these memories aren’t exactly warm and fuzzy. “It felt different. They were watching me be someone else. When I play with the band…that’s me being me.”

“I get that. So they wouldn’t do the show with anyone else? You were just that good?”

I laugh. “Let’s go with that. I think they were banking on the nostalgia factor.

The screen tests were released before my dad died—by him, of course—and they got a lot of attention.

There was even this dumb petition with twenty thousand signatures to bring the show back.

I don’t think his fans realized I’d already grown up. ”

“Why didn’t I hear about this?” she asks, lifting her coffee for a sip without taking her eyes off me.

“Because you’re not a superfan, thank God.”

As if she can tell this conversation isn’t putting me in my happy place, she says, “I’m guessing you hate it when people say, ‘Maritime law is mine,’ to you.”

“Loathe it,” I say with a half-smile. “His catchphrase didn’t make sense then, and it doesn’t make sense now. But for some reason, I don’t think that’s going to stop you.”

Her pauses for a moment, her gaze lingering on my face. “Does Lilah know about all of this?”

“We can talk about that later,” I say, glancing at the doorway. No sign of Ollie, but he’s got super hearing that hasn’t been dulled by years of band practice. “But no, she doesn’t.”

Understanding flashes in Hannah’s eyes, followed by a spark of anger. “And Ollie?”

“I haven’t told him yet, but I will.”

She nods. “Okay.”

“If you’re good with hanging around, I should still meet with Rob at the tea shop. We have some band business to discuss. ”

She nods a few more times. “Do you have to-go cups?”

“Excuse me?”

“To-go cups. I know Dottie makes all kinds of tea, and tea is all well and good, but I’ve yet to try a tea that makes me feel like I’m buzzing.”

“I thought you were going to stay with Ollie.”

“I am. It turns out I’m bringing him to the tea shop. You did say it could be on our agreed locations list.”

I shift on my feet. “I don’t want him overhearing us.”

“He’s not going to. Dottie’s going to love him. She’ll probably introduce him to every single person there as one of her hundreds of adopted grandchildren and great-grandchildren.”

I should probably protest some more, but I suspect it would be like arguing with a brick wall.

Of course, that’s when Ollie opens his bedroom door and calls out, “Hannah, is that you? Did you come back already?”

“It’s me, little man!” she calls back, her green eyes full of challenge as she gives me some side-eye. “And we’re going on a field trip.”