by Minx Malone
Somehow, he'd thought if he could bury himself in female attention, he could forget that the only woman he wanted was gone forever.
Then he’d met Alana. She’d seemed like everything he could want in a woman: sexy, talented and ambitious. A jazz singer, she’d been someone he could talk to about the business and bounce around his ideas about producing a new kind of album. She’d been excited about the project and even volunteered to sing. When she’d started pressuring him for more of his time and commitment, he’d actually felt guilty that he couldn’t give her what she needed.
Until the day he found her ass up over his assistant’s desk. In the end, Alana wasn’t special. She was just another singer looking for her big break and she’d been willing to do whatever or whoever it took to get there. They’d broken up but he’d learned a valuable lesson. He’d been in love with a fantastic woman once and the odds of it happening for him again were somewhere between “not gonna happen” and “a snowball’s chance in hell.”
Since then he’d only dated women who knew the score and had just as much to lose as he did. Starlets who needed someone on their arm for a film premiere, and models who needed an escort that wasn’t prettier than they were.
But in that moment, when he’d seen Raina on the ground with those big wounded eyes aimed at him, he’d experienced an almost startling sensation of longing. In the past three years no other woman had tempted him to break his no-strings rule. And none had roused the instinct to comfort and protect. Until now. Until Raina.
Which meant she really had to go.
He walked down the hall to his sons’ room where Nicholas was helping Chris with one of his toy robots.
“Daddy, look at what Uncle Nick did. He fixed my robot. It lights up and everything!” Chris held up a robot toy that had been broken for weeks.
Jackson looked at his brother, shocked. “I’ve been trying to fix that one for ages. What did you do?”
Nicholas grinned. “I hit it. Hard.”
Chris picked up the toy and flew it around the room making beeping noises.
“Figures.”
His phone chirped and he pulled it out to see there was a message. “Hopefully, this is the locksmith.”
He hit the button to play his messages.
BEEP
“Um, yes, hello this is Linda Taylor-Whiting. I’m scheduled to interview for the nanny position this afternoon.” She paused and cleared her throat a few times. “I was reading the agency’s notes on your children and it mentioned that one of your boys particularly likes insects. I’m not sure I would be the best candidate in this circumstance.”
Jackson shook his head as she stumbled through an apology before hanging up. He’d been blessed for years because Cynthia’s mother had been able to care for the boys during the day. But she’d recently gotten remarried and moved to Massachusetts.
The boys hadn’t made it easy to find a replacement for the grandma they’d adored. He was proud of his children but also completely aware that they weren't choirboys. Between Chris’s penchant for playing practical jokes and Jase’s current fascination with insects, they definitely didn’t make his task any easier. He hadn’t met a woman yet who could deal with them for more than a few hours at a time.
“Damn. Another nanny bites the dust.”
He just needed someone who could watch the boys during the afternoons while he was working, at least through the summer. Once the school year started, Chris would be in kindergarten and Jase would be in preschool. He’d be able to get by on his own, then. Of course in an ideal world he’d find a caregiver he could retain all year, maybe even one who could also run errands, such as grocery shopping, for him.
Nicholas looked up. “You still can’t find a nanny?”
“Every time I think I have a candidate there’s a catch. The first one was excellent at running a household, but stiff with the boys. She didn’t even last a whole day. The one after her was more interested in babysitting me than the kids. Her skirt barely covered her ass.”
He knew that type and avoided it like the plague. Gold diggers and groupies were a part of life in the music business but he’d learned his lesson about needy women. His ex-girlfriend had made sure of that.
He hadn’t realized when he started looking for nannies how difficult it would be or that there were women who’d apply for the job hoping to catch his eye. If he had, he would have asked his mother to handle screening the candidates.
Although, considering how much his mother wanted him to remarry, that might not have been the wisest plan either.
“Then there were the two after that who looked more like convicted felons than Mary Poppins. Now we have the one that I was sure was perfect, who was scheduled for this afternoon but just canceled.” He hung his head in defeat.
Nicholas shook his head in sympathy. “I don’t envy you. Unless you need someone to interview the ones with the short skirts? No? Okay, well just keep me in mind.”
Jackson clapped his hands until he had both boys’ attention. “Aren’t we having fun with Uncle Nick? As a matter of fact, who wants to spend the night at Uncle Nicholas’ house?” Jackson asked in a singsong voice.
Jase, who’d been watching his brother from his perch on the bed, took his thumb out of his mouth and yelled, “Me, Me, Me!” while Chris danced in the background in excitement.
Nicholas shot him an evil look. “Seriously? I have a date tonight. And she is…” He cut a glance at the two boys watching them avidly. “Constructed like a solid outdoor restroom facility.”
Jackson crinkled his brow in confusion and then almost choked with laughter at his brother’s child-friendly version of built like a brick shithouse. It took him a few minutes to compose himself before he could answer.
“Well, I’m going to be busy tonight and I’d feel better if the boys were with someone I trust. You can just bring them back when you come on Monday for the cookout.”
His brother laughed knowingly and slapped him on the back. “I was starting to get worried about you for a minute there, but I should have known you had plans for later. The player is back!”
Jackson grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the hallway.
“Nick, I’m not talking about a date. Raina’s here, remember?”
“So? You don’t think she’s trying to hook up with you, do you?”
Jackson narrowed his eyes. “Even if she was, so what? I know you aren’t going to give me a lecture on morality. What are you always telling me?”
Nick pretended to think for a minute. “That I'm the better-looking brother and you'll never surpass me?"
“Something is wrong with you. Can you take the boys or not?”
“Sure, I'll take the kids. Just stay away from Raina. She was hitting on me the last time I saw her. She doesn’t care where she gets it from as long as the guy is rich.”
“Would you keep your voice down? She’ll hear you.”
Jackson glanced down the hall at the closed guest room door. He’d shown Raina to the room an hour ago and hadn’t heard a peep from her since. She was probably sleeping, but still. They weren’t far from her room and his brother wasn’t exactly being quiet.
“Whatever. Stacey might not even mind if we just hang out at the arcade or something so the boys can play. Think it’ll get me brownie points for being such a good uncle?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Well, it can’t hurt.”
“Come on, guys. Grab your stuff. We’re going to the arcade,” Nick called.
Jackson went into the boys’ closet and pulled out a small backpack for Jase. He put his favorite pajamas in it, a handful of training pants and three sets of clothes, just in case he had an accident. “Jase, remember to use the potty at Uncle Nick’s house, okay little man?”
Jase nodded solemnly at him, without removing his thumb from his mouth.
“Yes, please do. Because Uncle Nick hates changing diapers.” Nick sent Jackson a foul look before turning to help Chris put his stu
ff into a duffel bag.
Jackson hugged Jase and then Chris, running his hands over their tight curls affectionately. All of his brothers and his parents took the boys overnight regularly so he knew they’d have a good time. It gave the boys a fun night out and it gave him a much needed break. It was a luxury that many single parents didn’t have. He was so lucky to have his family nearby to help him and he appreciated them more than they knew.
“Okay little guys, let’s roll.”
Chris raced down the hallway while Jase followed quietly, clutching his Elmo backpack tightly to his chest.
Nicholas gave him a mock salute. “I’ll leave you to do your good deed. Just remember what I said about Raina. Don’t let her get her hooks into you. That girl is a vulture.”
* * * * *
“HI.”
Ridley watched as Jackson spun around. Her fingers tightened around the bag of laundry she’d taken from her backpack. She’d been about to come ask him if he minded her using his washing machine when she’d overheard his conversation with his brother.
That girl is a vulture.
Asshole.
In a way it was almost a relief to know that her initial assessment had been correct. In her experience, people weren’t nice for no reason. Plenty of guys thought nailing a supermodel was something to brag about. But why would his brother be warning him away from her? Unless Jackson and her sister had some sort of history. Maybe they’d dated previously and his brother didn’t approve? Well, if Jackson thought he was getting in her pants this weekend he was in for a rude surprise.
Or a swift kick in the balls.
“You said to make myself at home so I thought I could throw a few things in the laundry, if you don’t mind.” It took everything inside her not to throw the bag at his head.
“Of course. Feel free to use whatever you need. It’s not as ritzy as what you’re used to, I’m sure. I’ve been here a year but I haven’t really gotten everything organized yet.”
“I don’t need ritzy. Contrary to what most people think, models don’t just show up for a few hours, get paid and then go party. You’re holding weird positions for long periods of time and call times are at the butt-crack of dawn to get the best light.”
Ridley stopped and took a deep breath. Correcting people’s stereotypes about modeling wasn’t something she normally bothered with but after hearing his brother call her a vulture, she was already on edge.
You don’t have to like this guy. You’re just using him for his air conditioning.
Jackson held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you don’t work hard. I’ve seen a few of your billboards lately. You’re becoming a household name.”
Ridley nodded, her hostility meter going down a few notches. “Thanks. It’s what I’ve been working toward for years.”
Even though they hadn’t been as close lately, nothing could stop her pride at her sister’s success. She’d been there in the early years when Raina had done ads for toothpaste and pain killers. She’d been disappointed along with her when she’d been turned down for casting call after casting call because she wasn’t the “All-American” girl they were looking for. Code for “not blonde enough.”
Women of color had always had a hard time in the modeling industry and Raina had been no exception. However, instead of accepting it, she’d done something unprecedented. While living in Washington, D.C. she’d started a style blog called “Legs” and modeled clothing for small fashion designers for free. Every week she’d featured an outfit by a different designer and then shown photos of herself wearing it on the streets and to trendy restaurants. Before long her blog had a cult following, and everyone wanted to know what she was wearing.
The modeling industry hadn’t wanted her initially so she’d gone out and created her own industry. People looked at Raina as just another model but the truth was that she was an entrepreneur. An incredibly savvy one at that.
He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “So, you canceled your latest shoot?”
“Yeah, I was in a car accident. I needed a break, anyway.” It was as good an explanation as any. Her shoulders slumped. She could hardly tell people she was in town hiding out. “People staring and taking pictures can get old, you know?”
“Really?”
When she raised her eyebrows he backed up a step. “Sorry, I just can’t imagine having that kind of opportunity and turning it down. I wish someone would just offer me money for being pretty. I wouldn’t have bothered with college!”
“So, I guess I shouldn’t have gone to college either, huh? I guess all that time learning was wasted.” She glared at him.
“No, of course not. I just meant.” He stopped and ran a hand through his hair. “Wow, can we start over? I’ve done nothing but put my foot in it today. Let’s pretend we’re just meeting. Hi, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Jackson; my friends call me Jack or J. Or jackass, depending on who you ask.” He smiled slowly, the type of grin that probably had women throwing their panties at him usually.
Ridley just sighed. “Nice to meet you, Jackson.”
He gestured toward her. “And you are?”
“Seriously?”
“Come on, play along.”
Ridley crossed her arms. “Okay. Hi, I’m Raina. You can call me Raina.”
His lips twitched at the corners. “Okay, then. You know what? The locksmith is probably not going to call back for a while so we might as well just hang out. We’ve been neighbors for months now but we’ve never had a chance to just sit and talk like this. I don't have much to snack on but I'm sure we can find something suitably unhealthy to eat while you tell me your story. The real one, not the tabloid version.”
Ridley raised her chin. “Who says I have a story?”
“Everyone has a story. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he teased.
“I don’t think I need to know yours.”
“Okay, suit yourself. I’m going to go get some work done, then. But if you change your mind, I’m ordering takeout around six.” He turned and walked away.
Just before he turned the corner she called out. “Fine. I’ll eat your takeout. After all, that’s what vultures do, right?”
As he turned and stared at her wide-eyed, she grinned and walked back to the guestroom.
The laundry could wait.
CHAPTER FOUR
AN HOUR LATER, Jackson had made a sizable dent in his to-do list for the party the next day. The Alexander family had always held a party on Memorial Day weekend but it used to be held at his parent’s farm. It wasn’t until after his wife died that his mother made the request to have it at Jackson’s place.
It was her way of keeping him from withdrawing from the world, something he’d been all too happy to do after Cynthia died. However, it took an iron will to resist his mother when she wanted something so he’d been hosting for the past three years. This would be the first year in his new house.
It was also the first year he was actually looking forward to it.
An image of Raina sitting in her backyard, looking so lost and alone entered his mind. If he ever got locked out he’d have plenty of people to call. His parents, his brothers and a whole slew of cousins. He couldn’t imagine not having anyone to help him out. Having a big family wasn’t something he’d ever given much thought to but after today… well, he was suddenly really aware of how much easier his life was because of his family.
He groaned thinking of all the ways he’d put his foot in his mouth around her. Not only had she heard Nick call her a vulture but then he’d implied that beautiful women didn’t need to be smart.
It was no wonder she’d walked off.
He was so distracted that the shrill ring of his cell phone on the desk next to him set his teeth on edge. He grabbed the phone, cursing as the pile of invoices it was sitting on scattered across the floor.
“Jackson Alexander”.
“You are gonna love me for this one. I’m a genius. Tell me I
’m a genius!”
“You’re a genius, Mac. Now why the hell are you calling me? Aren’t you supposed to be finding a group for the song we’re working on?”
He stooped to pick up the papers off the floor, sure that his assistant was off task as usual. Some people thought he was crazy for keeping him around after the debacle with Alana. But Jackson believed in loyalty. They’d been friends for years and Mac claimed nothing had happened between him and Alana. Jackson believed him.
The fact that he’d witnessed his friend pushing her away before they knew he was there helped considerably.
“That’s why I’m calling. I found a group that’s perfect. They’re all gorgeous, well most of them and even better, they’re local.” Leave it to Mac to be more interested in the length of their legs than the quality of their voices.
“Can they at least sing? The last time I heard a group you found, only one member could even carry a tune.”
Jackson winced at the memory of the pitiful group trying to sing a capella. They had all looked like cover models, which was reason enough for Mac to be interested. Jackson couldn’t hold it against him, though. Except for his obsession with beautiful women, Michael MacCrane was the hardest working assistant Jackson had ever had and a good friend.
He’d just learned not to trust his instincts when it came to young female singers.
“I’m telling you Jack, these girls have voices like angels. But hey, you don’t have to take my word for it. Girls, sing a few bars for the boss.” There was a ruffling sound as if Mac had put the phone down before he heard someone clear a throat.
It was just a simple rendition of the jazz tune “Cry Me a River” but when they were done, Jackson pumped his fist in the air.
This was the break he had been waiting for.
* * * * *
RIDLEY ROLLED OVER and yawned. Napping had seemed like a good idea at the time, but she was too anxious to sleep for more than a few minutes here and there, so now she was tired and groggy. She reached over to the nightstand where she’d left her cell phone charging.
