I make my way toward the deck steps and pause when Max calls out. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
“Agenda?” I respond, turning on the bottom step to face him. I’m dressed in a pair of tie-dyed shorts, and I swear I catch him staring at my legs. I shrug. “No agenda, I’m afraid. My nanny business model prefers more of a willy-nilly approach.”
Water drips off Max’s hair as he walks toward me with a dubious look. “What is willy-nilly exactly?”
I waggle my eyebrows playfully. “I suppose you could say it’s like an elevated version of YOLO. It allows Everly and me to be spontaneous. I mean…look at this beautiful morning? Why would we want to spoil all its possibility with a stifling agenda? Unless it’s for tie-dye classes, obviously.”
“Interesting,” Max huffs and takes a few steps past me so he’s towering over me. His six-pack abs are annoyingly eye level now as he turns back and adds, “If my business philosophy was willy-nilly, I wouldn’t have any of the success I have today.”
He turns to leave as I can’t stop my reply from tumbling out of my mouth. “And that would be a bad thing?”
Turning on his heel, he furrows his dark brow at me. “You have a problem with success?”
“No,” I answer and glance back at his giant pool. “But at what cost?”
“What does that mean?” His tone takes a swift turn from pleasant to punchy, and I scold myself internally for not being able to bite my damn tongue.
I try not to squirm under his penetrative glower. “I’m just saying all things in life come with a cost. It’s important to determine what expenses are necessary and what expenses aren’t. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that material items aren’t the only things of value in life.”
Max tilts his head, his eyes roving over my face for a long, pregnant pause. He takes a step down, looming over me with his all-business face that I recall him having during my initial interview. “You have a lot of uniquely strong outlooks on life, Cassandra. I can’t help but wonder what’s inspired them?”
My chest tightens at his pointed question, and I falter for a moment, trying to figure out how to answer him.
“You were born and raised here in Boulder, right? You mentioned growing up on a farm. Is a willy-nilly business philosophy really how your family gets things done?”
“No,” I state, my lips thinning with challenge as I watch his pouty lips like a freak. “But country life is very different from corporate life.”
Max stares at me incredulously. “And you think you know my business?”
I open my mouth to reply when a high-pitched voice breaks through the moment, “Morning!”
Max and I both spread apart like we were caught kissing. I didn’t realize how close we’d gotten until Everly snapped us out of whatever mental standoff we were just in the middle of.
“The Sea Monster is awake,” I exclaim with a dramatic flourish to my tone as I march past Max with my chin held high. “Ready for breakfast?”
“Yes, I’m starving.” Everly pats her tiny tummy. “Can we do pancakes?”
I turn on my heel and wince. “Is now a bad time to tell you I’m a terrible cook?”
Everly sighs. “Oh Cozy, what are you good at?”
The next few days go a bit more smoothly as we all find our rhythm. Cassandra continues to wake early and is in the house reading a book in the living room before Everly ever wakes up. I often pass her as I finish my workouts but do my best not to ask what’s on the agenda since that’s essentially a four-letter word to the new nanny. It’s honestly really frustrating to have such a contradictory employee. However, I allowed Everly to choose Cassandra based on her interview, so it would be a dick move for me to try changing her mindset on week one.
I just need to watch how this all plays out. I have a feeling Cassandra and Everly are going to tire of this willy-nilly summer sooner rather than later. And at that moment, I shall take my victory lap.
Although I will say, yesterday at lunchtime, I found the two of them out on the deck with their eyes closed. When I asked what they were doing, they said they were playing tennis against each other in their minds. Everly’s eyes were closed so tightly, her voice deadly serious as she yelled out, “Love all,” that I couldn’t help but think it was pretty damn adorable. Not that I’ll ever admit that out loud. Nor will I admit that I pay for a membership to a country club with professional tennis courts, and it kills me to think my daughter looked happier on that deck with Cassandra than she ever did during all those tennis matches we played together. Being a dad is really fucking weird sometimes.