Confessions from a Naughty Nanny

by Rayne, Piper

  I look around to make sure no one is staring at us. “No. I mean, yes. I mean… I knew it wasn’t feasible for us to continue seeing one another once your career was off the ground, but I selfishly wanted you for as long as I could have you.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Here I thought we might have a future, and you knew our expiration date all along.” A tear slips down her cheek and my chest squeezes.

  “Phoenix, listen to me—”

  She stands abruptly, her chair screeching across the floor.

  If I was hoping there wasn’t going to be a scene, there is now.

  She beelines it for the exit, and once I’ve thrown some cash on the table, I race after her.

  She’s halfway down the road before I catch up to her. “Phoenix.”

  “You set me up for heartbreak!” Tears track down her face and I feel like the biggest douche alive.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “You did! Is this some sick trick to pull a heartbreaking song out of me? To make me feel or whatever that bullshit philosophy of yours is?”

  I pull her into the side of a retaining wall, locking her body to it with my hips. “No.”

  I cup her face and stare into her dark eyes. They’re full of heartbreak and it cracks my chest as wide open as if a gorilla was tearing out the beating organ with its bare hands. I don’t want to hurt her. I want to take her in my arms, return her to Lake Starlight, and convince her she doesn’t need this in her life.

  But that’s not fair to her. If I told her right now how much I love her, I’d only be holding her back from moving on from me.

  “You have to see that I’m right,” I whisper, wiping away her tears with my thumbs.

  She straightens and pushes against my chest. “You know how I see it? You’re a coward.” She shrugs out of my hold and stomps down the street before whipping around. “Don’t follow me! Don’t help me anymore! We’re over! Business and relationship. Thank you for what you’ve done for me so far, but I’ve got it from here.”

  My head falls back for a moment. “Phoenix…”

  But she flags down a cab and hops in.

  I sink down against the wall and bury my head in my hands. This is the right decision. We can’t be together if one of us is down here and the other one is four thousand miles away. She’ll see one day that I’m right and thank me. Maybe it’ll even be from the podium when she’s accepting a Grammy.

  Thirty-One

  Phoenix

  Griffin sends me a text. A fucking text after I left him on the side of a road in the middle of Los Angeles.

  Griffin: You have an appointment with Aces High at three o’clock. Sign with them. They’ll take good care of you.

  Griffin: Chateau Marmont – reservation #C128736

  Griffin: The hotel is paid up for as long as you need.

  Ugh. I throw my phone into my purse and sit on a park bench. I don’t need his charity. I have the money he’s paid me for watching Maverick. Not as much as I thought I would have, but the last person I need help from now is Griffin Thorne.

  My phone rings in my purse and I pull it out, hoping it’s Griffin saying how stupid he was, that of course we’ll make this work because we’re worth it. But as I pick it up and stare at the screen, I see Sedona’s name.

  “Hi.”

  “What happened?” she asks. “I got a text from Denver that said to call you ASAP. Did you get a deal?”

  She’s so excited that it takes me a minute before I figure out the channel of communication that got Sedona to call me. Griffin called Denver who called Sedona.

  The tears come hot and fast when the finality that he’s not changing his mind hits me. He’s not going to appear from behind a corner and pull me into his arms, telling me he can’t live without me. Maybe I was only someone to get him off temporarily. To prove that he still has it. That he can take a girl from Small Town, Alaska, and perfect her voice so that three record labels fight over her. Maybe it was all to boost his ego.

  “Phoenix. Talk to me. What happened?”

  “We… broke… up.”

  After a long silence, she says, “I’m sorry.”

  There’s no surprise in her voice. No “he’s an idiot.” No “how does he throw away the best thing to happen to him?” Just two simple words that someone who doesn’t even know me would say. This is my twin. She’s supposed to feel for me.

  “Did you know he was going to do this?” I ask.

  She releases a breath. “No, but Griffin left LA for Lake Starlight. You’re looking to leave Lake Starlight for LA. Your lives are going in two different directions. Of course I didn’t know, but I suspected it wouldn’t work.” She’s using her soft tone, her velvet-gloved voice, so I don’t react.

  “Am I selfish for thinking we could?”

  She giggles and stops abruptly when I don’t join her. “You’re Phoenix. The world should revolve around you.”

  “That’s not true. But I think we could make it work.”

  “It would be hard. You’d have to sacrifice so much. He has an eight-year-old son. How did you not think about any of this?”

  Now Sedona is gonna be judgmental with me? “I gotta go.”

  “What? Phoenix, just wait—”

  But I hang up. I don’t need another “told you so” or “you don’t think” or “should have.” What I feel for Griffin is more than just physical and now I’m getting the ‘I release you so you can fly away’ line. Well, this little birdie isn’t flying back.

  I stand and swipe my face free of tears. When my phone rings again, I power it off and shove it into my purse. They can all go to hell. Griffin might’ve gotten me here with his connections, but I’ll make my own destiny. He can sit on his couch in Lake Starlight and watch me do interviews and perform at award shows and regret his decision to let me go.

  But first, I need a milkshake. A double chocolate milkshake. Then I’ll be good as new.

  * * *

  I walk into Aces High Record Label and find Trey talking to the receptionist. He’s in a T-shirt and jeans, his hair askew, looking nothing like one of the most powerful men in the music business.

  “Phoenix.” He pushes off the receptionist’s desk, and she looks disappointed that she’s lost his attention. Meeting me halfway, he hugs me. “How are you?”

  “Great.”

  “Great?” He looks down at my milkshake.

  “Yep.”

  I’m not stupid. He knows what transpired. Griffin would’ve called his friends to say “yeah, I ditched the girl, so be nice.” I’m pissed at him, but I also know he’s too nice not to do that. The pity in Griffin’s eyes when he explained how naive I was to think we might be able to make it work tells me he never wanted to break my heart. I’ll give him that much at least.

  “Okay then. Let’s get upstairs and talk to the man.” Trey nods toward the bank of elevators and I step forward first.

  Once we’re in an elevator by ourselves, I ask, “Aren’t you the man too?”

  “Van likes the business end. I like the creative. If you sign today, I have a few ideas about image we should discuss.”

  “Image?”

  He laughs as if I’m so out of my element. “We have to put together an image of who you are and what you represent. Your single will depict some of that, but with an album, we have some room to tweak where we need to.”

  I sip my milkshake. “Will I have any say in any of this?”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “More or less. But we’ll advise you on the route we think you should go with.”

  My milkshake finishes with a slurp right as the elevator doors open.

  Trey laughs again, putting out his arm for me to go first. “Sorry about your sister, you know? She was fun and all, but my life is down here.”

  Jeez, I’m a shit sister. I haven’t even talked to Juno about her time with Trey because I was too concerned with the man who tore out my heart and stomped on it in the middle of Los Angeles. “Yeah, those geo
graphical reasons are holding a lot of weight on relationships these days.”

  He stops before opening the office doors.

  Yeah, he knows.

  “Van was worried I fucked it up for us signing you. I felt like an apology was necessary.” Trey opens the door and dramatically bends at the waist as if I’m royalty.

  It’s the least he can do without a heartfelt apology for what I assume was screwing over my sister.

  “I guess you didn’t make too big of an impression because she hasn’t said anything to me.” I pat him on the back and give him a saccharine smile.

  His eyes go wide.

  Yes, two can play that game, Trey Galger.

  “You’re dangerous.” He laughs. He reminds me a little of Denver, except Trey seems to lack true emotion.

  Trey leads me to a small office. I’m thankful we’re not meeting in a conference room. Maybe they don’t have one. This entire office is smaller than the frat boys’ one. I ditched the second meeting because Griffin never sent me the information. I hope he canceled though, so I’m not blackballed by them in the future.

  Van stands up from behind his desk and puts out a cigarette.

  “Isn’t it illegal to smoke inside a building?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “I pay the rent here.” Van comes around the desk and hugs me as if we’re old friends. “So good to see you again.” Drawing back, he signals to a chair. “Have a seat.”

  Trey sits on a window ledge with a foot propped up on the arm of a chair.

  “We’re thrilled Griffin finally released you. He’s such a perfectionist. It can be annoying at times,” Van says, retaking his seat behind his desk.

  Finally released me?

  “But the single proves his worth and why, with his help, so many artists have resulted in Grammys.” Trey smiles.

  I nod. “He definitely knows what he’s doing.”

  “This is the contract. Have someone look over it and let us know if you have any concerns.” Van hands me a packet of papers. “It’s a fair offer. Griffin went to bat for you, and I think it has everything in there that will make you happy.”

  I grab a pen out of the holder and sign before pushing the papers across the desk.

  “Phoenix,” Van says, picking up the packet.

  “You can’t do that.” Trey pushes off the ledge and sits in the chair next to me. Taking the contract from Van, he hands it back to me. “You have to read it, understand it, and feel good about it.” He looks at Van, who blows out a breath and comes over to sit on the edge of his desk in front of me.

  “We’re sorry to hear about what happened. Griffin is a hard one to figure out. He’s…” Van looks over my shoulder and I follow his line of sight, hoping Griffin returned, but the door is shut. “Well, Trey is right. You have to protect yourself.” Van pulls a Post-it note off his desk with a name and number scribbled on it. “I want you to call this woman, and if you like her, hire her. She’s a great agent, and I want you to take the contract, have her read it over, then decide if you want to sign.”

  Tears well in my eyes, and despite me doing my best to stop them, they cascade down my cheeks anyway. I haven’t cried this much since my parents passed away. Trey plucks the empty milkshake cup out of my hands and places it on Van’s desk. Then he slides his chair over and puts his arm around my shoulders.

  Van blows out a breath and watches Trey console me before handing me a tissue from his desk. “He really is doing the best thing for you. You might not understand it now, but when you’re selling out arenas and touring Europe, singing to screaming fans, you’ll understand why the two of you won’t work.”

  “I can set you up with Tyler Vaughn,” Trey says. “He’s kind of an idiot, but you two could collaborate on a song or something.”

  “Griffin doesn’t like Tyler’s song,” I manage to get out, remembering Maverick’s words.

  “Yeah, well, there are two artists who kind of screwed Griffin over. Tyler Vaughn and Cammie Sanchez.” Van rounds his desk and sits in his chair, tapping his pen.

  “The two of you are on different paths right now. Who knows? Maybe something will happen one day, and your paths will merge again, but he did the smart thing for now,” Trey says.

  “Where the hell did you get that?” Van asks Trey.

  I slide out of Trey’s hug and steal another tissue before blowing my nose.

  Trey says, “What? I’m the creative one out of the two of us.”

  “Yeah, but usually you’d say, ‘Shit happens, get over it.’”

  “She’s crying, man, have a heart.” Trey smiles at me.

  I can’t help the laugh from bubbling up my throat. “Thanks, guys.”

  Van’s eyes shift to the Post-it note. “I’m serious. Meet with her. Get a lawyer if you have to.”

  “Are you guys always this nice?” I tuck the contract in my purse.

  “We’re not into screwing over artists to get them to sign with us. We want our deals to be beneficial to all parties.”

  “I like my sleep at night,” Trey adds, and I laugh.

  Van rolls his eyes.

  When I leave Aces High, I call the woman on the Post-it—Jannie Reider. She was expecting my call, so I make plans to meet with her in the morning. In the meantime, I take pictures of my contract and send them to the best businesswoman I know—my sister Savannah.

  Thirty-Two

  Griffin

  Maverick slams his bedroom door when we return home to Lake Starlight. The trip being cut short isn’t what he’s upset about. I had to sit him down and tell him Phoenix wouldn’t be coming back.

  I take in the kitchen. The faucet not on the sink. Her hair tie on the counter. Her keys in the dish. She’s everywhere. Even her scent still lingers.

  Heading from the kitchen to the garage, I grab the last Amazon box that was delivered. Back in the kitchen, I toss her ponytail holder in the box. Then I pick up the candle she bought at the farmer’s market and add it to the box. The book she finished with her head in my lap while I watched the Dodgers game is next. Another hair tie. In the box. The deodorizer she put in the bathroom. In the box. I didn’t realize how much she had saturated our lives.

  I finish collecting her things then head to her bedroom. After grabbing a few suitcases, I put them on her bed and fill them with the rest of her clothes and jewelry.

  I drop onto the mattress and the box spills over onto the floor, all her belongings now laid out in front of me. I run my hand through my hair, repeating the same shit I’ve been telling myself all weekend. This is what has to happen. I can’t keep her. She’s meant to fly, not be caged in with an eight-year-old stepson in the small town she has a love-hate relationship with.

  My doorbell rings. I stand up and stop in the hallway, hearing Maverick open his door.

  He stares at me, hopeful that it’s who I hope it is too.

  We both head down the stairs.

  I look out the side window and see an Uber pull away. Could it really be her?

  Maverick swings the door open, and we both step back.

  “Not much of a greeting.” When we don’t say anything, Maggie walks in, leaving her luggage on the front porch.

  “What are you doing here?” I step out and pick up her suitcases, bringing them inside.

  “I’m here to see my son. Come here, Maverick.” She opens her arms, and Maverick steps into them, allowing her to hug him. “Why is everyone so glum? Helloooo? I’m here after filming two movies back to back.” She looks at Maverick and grabs him by his chin with her thumb and forefinger. “Aren’t you excited? I flew directly here.”

  What would she have done had we still been in LA?

  “Is there a hotel I can call for you?” I ask.

  She rolls her eyes. “I’ll stay here. You have plenty of room, and I’ll make myself scarce you know from”—she covers Maverick’s ears—“the nanny.”

  “Maverick knows, and she’s not here.” I head into the kitchen because a beer sounds good right about now.
>
  “Oh. Where’s the nanny?”

  “Her name is Phoenix, and he ruined everything.” Maverick points at me.

  I crack open a beer, ignoring the wine that Phoenix left in the fridge.

  “Break up already?” Maggie lifts her wrist as if there’s a watch there. “Faster than I figured.”

  “She’s signing a record deal right now and I don’t want to live in LA. Not that any of this is your business.”

  “I’m going to get my phone.” Maverick leaves his mother’s side, but she grabs him again.

  Maggie pulls him into her chest, swaying them back and forth. “I missed you so much.”

  When she releases him, he pushes down his misplaced hair and runs upstairs. I bet we don’t see him for the rest of the night.

  Maggie joins me in the kitchen. “I don’t get offered a drink?”

  “What are you doing here?” I lean against my counter, arms crossed and my beer dangling from one hand.

  She glances at the sink and laughs. “Still think you can work with your hands, huh? You’re not your father.” Making herself at home, she opens the fridge and takes out a water. “I have to say, it’s disappointing that you went with such a cliché relationship. I mean, an aspiring singer? Really, Grif?”

  “The last person I’m talking about this with is you.”

  She sits at the breakfast island, soaking in my house. I’m thankful I already removed all of Phoenix’s stuff. I don’t want or need her judgment.

  “Oh, we can talk about your relationship problems,” she says. “We haven’t been together for years.”

  “Not happening.”

  She blows out a breath. “You’re so black or white. Live in the grey once in a while. Or hell, live in color and enjoy life.”

  I push off the counter. “Are you taking Maverick for the weekend?”

  “I thought I’d stay here. Now without the nanny in the way, you can show me around.” She smiles and sips her water.

  “Not gonna happen. You’re not welcome in my home. So I can call a hotel for you if you’d like, or you can use the visitation you’re owed and take Maverick somewhere. He’d probably enjoy a hotel so he can swim.”