Babysitter Dreams

Karen’s barely out the door when Alice grabs her keys. House feels too damn quiet. She drives straight to Sam’s place, needing the kind of distraction only your best friend can hand you. Chloe answers in a skin-tight top and gives Alice the half-second stare like she’s already deciding whether she gets bent over first or not. Weird. Even weirder when the kid just grins and leads her straight to Sam like she owns the damn hallway. Alice clocks how Chloe purrs “Mistress” instead of calling her Sam. Straight-up. During the third round of questions Sam caves: yeah, she’s railing the babysitter. Every lunch break. Swears by a company that sends the cutest, sluttiest girls—Babysitter Dreams—and casually hands Alice the card. Alice’s still weighing the idea when glass shatters somewhere in the kitchen. She pockets the card, flashes Sam a quick “good luck with that,” and heads out before the real lesson starts. Sam finds Chloe already on her knees, sweeping shards into her palm. No panic, just a lazy little smirk that says she planned this. Sam plants one heel, lifts Chloe’s chin with a finger, and tells her she’s about to learn exactly how good little babysitters clean up their messes.