“I’m sorry,” I said, a little dumbfounded. Then I wished I hadn’t apologized. This was ridiculous. This man was ridiculous. I straightened. “Caring for a houseplant is much different than caring for a child.”
“How so?” asked Billy, lips tight. He put his hands to his hips, as if daring me to contradict him. His forearms were thick and veined, with a smattering of blond hair. Nice forearms were my kryptonite. The Navy SEAL I’d lost my v-card to had fantastic arms—muscled and hairy.
“Isn’t it like a nanny rule or something that you have to be good with houseplants?” Jett interjected.
Turner spoke up. “No that’s AA man. You got to keep a houseplant alive for six months before dating.”
My uncle was a recovering alcoholic. He’d worked the program for the last five years and never owned a plant. In fact, even his yard looked like shit. “I don’t think keeping a houseplant alive has anything to do with—”
“Well then,” said Billy, “I guess the whole houseplant thing isn’t an issue.” The smile he gave me was blinding in its beauty. “You’re still in the running, flower.”
I kept myself from saying thank you.
Billy rubbed his hands together. “Now, tell me, have you had all your tetanus shots? I’m not saying my little bird is a biter. But I’m also not, not saying she’s a biter.”
“Biter?” Images of Addy’s sharp little teeth flashed through my mind.
“It’s totally my fault, I taught her to fight dirty. Who knew she would take it to heart?” Billy said.
“Addy’s all heart, man,” said Jett.
Billy nodded, as if Jett were offering some mystical, sage advice. “That she is.” He clapped his hands. “Okay, boys. Let’s take a vote. All in favor?” One by one the band members raised their hands, even sleepy Chord, who had begun lightly snoring. “That does it. You’re hired, flower.”
I said nothing. A discussion about houseplants and tetanus shots, and this man was willing to hire me as his daughter’s nanny. “Wouldn’t you like to discuss my qualifications more in depth?”
Billy faced me. “Not necessary. Steve wouldn’t have sent you over if you weren’t qualified. Now, for the details, we leave tomorrow on tour. You’ll be expected to be with little bird any time I can’t. I’ve also hired a tutor. She should be arriving soon. You’ll make sure little bird attends her lessons. Put that devious mind of hers to good use. I always fancied myself the father of an Ivy League graduate. Maybe we should get one of those stickers for the bus that says my kid’s on the honor roll.”
Jett stood. “Wouldn’t hurt man.”
“Flower, you know where to get one of those stickers?” asked Billy.
“I’m sure I can find one.” Why, oh why, did I keep answering his asinine questions?
Billy’s mouth cracked into a wide grin. He had straight white teeth. I thought of a shark, something that might eat me alive. Although, I had to admit, I wouldn’t mind being eaten by Billy. “Look at you,” he said, “making yourself indispensable already.”
Jett started toward the door. Turner followed, slapping Chord aside the head as he went. The band members exited. I was alone with Billy. My mouth opened and shut, opened and shut, as I tried to absorb everything that had just happened. I’d been offered gainful employment. Yay. I’d also promised to find an honor roll sticker for Billy’s tour bus. Oh god, tour bus. Was I going to be expected to live in the same quarters as the band? The Colonel was going to have a conniption fit.
“About the living situation …” I trailed off, unsure, exactly, of how to phrase it.
“You, little bird and other essential staff will travel on a separate bus.”
Thank goodness. That put my earlier worry to rest. I chewed my lip, mentally cataloging my apartment. I was on a month-to-month lease, so that wouldn’t be a problem. I’d have to put my furniture in storage. Was I actually considering this, a nanny job with some hot rocker and his feral child?
The couch dipped with additional weight, Billy sat next to me. His thigh rubbed against mine. He slung his arms out to rest on the back of the couch. I felt his fingers pluck a lock of my hair and toy with it. “I think we should fuck.”
I choked on air. “Excuse me?”
He shrugged a single shoulder. “Not going to lie, flower, I find you attractive. You kind of dress like an elderly gentleman, and it does things to me.”
I looked down at my sensible skirt and cardigan, insulted and turned on all at once.
Billy shifted closer. His nose skimmed my neck. His breath was warm and smelled like whiskey. Goosebumps broke out along my arms. My stomach flipped. A big hand landed on my thigh, and I could feel the heat from his palm all the way through my wool skirt. “I think we should fuck, just once. Get it out of the way.”
Yes. No. Yes. No. My head waged a silent war with my body. Billy’s hand inched higher and at the same time, his teeth grazed the thin skin of my neck. A tortured sound escaped from low in my throat. “No,” I said weakly. I did not sound convincing. Not at all.
Billy paused his assault. “Is that a question or an answer?”
I pushed myself up from the couch, balling my hands into fists. “No. I’m sorry Mr. Wanks I don’t think this is going to work out. Good luck finding a nanny for your daughter.” I grabbed my bag from the floor, and scooped up the resume Billy had so carelessly tossed aside. It still had some use left in it. Fuck him and fuck this.
I was two feet from the door when Billy’s voice stopped me. “Oi, that’s a relief. The last nanny climbed into bed with me while I was sleeping.” He sauntered towards me. “You passed the final test. You’re really hired now.”
My mouth went dry. I wanted to scream. “Test?” I asked, taking note of the bulge in his pants, the very considerable bulge.
Billy adjusted himself with a wicked smile. “I do find you attractive, flower. Like I said, I’ve got a thing for redheads who dress like schoolmarms. Must be some Freudian shit, but I need a nanny who’s here for my little bird, not for me.”
My chin jutted out, offended by his games and ashamed of my own response to him. “I don’t think I’m suited for this position. I’ll ask the agency to send another candidate over as soon as possible.” I reached for the doorknob.
“It pays well over six figures a year, plus room, board, vacation and medical.”
My hand paused. With that kind of money I could pay off my student loans in a year and save a tidy sum. Crap. I turned slowly on my heel to face Billy, and smiled brightly. “What time do we leave tomorrow?”
“Psst.” A fine coat of spittle coated my cheek, waking me from a delicious dream about a blond-haired rock star. “Pssst.” I cracked an eye open. Addison Wanks’ face was two inches from mine.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” I asked, turning in my bunk. Outside, the muted sound of a concert could be heard. I’d been traveling with Wanks and Janks for nearly a month. I hardly ever saw Billy, unless he was picking up Addy and scurrying her off on some adventure. He didn’t like having a nanny—the proverbial third wheel—around while he spent time with his kid.
Addy and I had a rocky start. Billy had been right to ask about tetanus shots. The little demon had bitten me twice before I’d chased her down, tackled her and threatened to bite back. Trent, head of security and overall mean motherfucker, had been standing close by. I had been pretty sure an epic firing was in my future. But Trent had just nodded, bald head shining under a stage light. “Girl needs tough love,” he’d said. I’m guessing he didn’t tell Billy. If he had, I’m sure I would’ve been out on my ass. The rock star doted on his daughter, thought she could do no wrong.
After the stunt, I earned Addy’s grudging respect. Trent had been right. Once I knew the little demon would respond to tough love, managing her became easy, like taking candy from a baby.
I put Addy on a strict schedule that included three square meals a day, no sweets unless earned and a bedtime routine to rival all bedtime routines—books, bath or sh
ower and snuggly pajamas. The kid had nothing on me. Her itinerant father on the other hand … whenever he spent a little time with Addy, he’d screw my schedule all to hell and I’d have to start all over again. Bastard.
Addy sniffled and pressed herself against my side. “Mr. Wiggles died.”
“Mr. Wiggles?”
“My pet. I found him in San Francisco in the bathroom.” Light from a streetlamp shone through the window. Addy brought her small, closed hand to my face. Her eyes filled with liquid as she opened it. There in the center of her palm, lying belly up, was a cockroach the size of a car. I stifled the urge to scream. Taking a deep breath, I peered at the creature. Okay, maybe not the size of a car, but huge. Definitely the Godzilla of cockroaches. A single tear coasted down Addy’s cheek. For all her tough exterior, the girl was a little tenderfoot. I didn’t know much about her past, but I did know Billy only recently learned of her existence and received custody of her a couple years ago. Before that, she’d been in foster care. A rocky start. Addy went on, “I made it a little home.” Near my feet a Tupperware container lay discarded; remnants of rotten food tumbled out onto my comforter. Note to self: have comforter dry cleaned. Or burned. Sympathy blossomed in my chest for Addy. Poor girl. Tupperware containers were airtight. She’d suffocated her pet. Not that I’d ever tell her.
I pushed her hand toward the Tupperware. “Let’s put Mr. Wiggles back in his home.” And far, far away from me.
Addy complied, looking mournfully into the stinky Tupperware container. “I was going to let him sleep with me tonight.”
“This is a great loss,” I said, all serious.
She nodded. “Yes.” She had this little lisp from losing her front teeth. They were just growing in.
“We should have a funeral.”
“Funeral?”
“Do you know what a funeral is?”
“No,” she sighed, finger stroking Mr. Wiggles’ abdomen.
I sat up, flicked on the overhead light. “We had one when my mom died. It’s how you say goodbye to someone or something you love.”
“What do you do?”
“Well, usually lots of people attend. And they share memories about the person or thing, tell their favorite stories.” Three hundred people had shown up to my mom’s funeral. I had been six, around Addy’s age, when we lost her to cancer. I was with her when she died. I’ll never forget the last flutter of her pale eyelids before she flat lined. It took a doctor plus the Colonel to pull me from her body. I blinked away tears.
“That sounds nice,” said Addy. “We didn’t have a funeral for my mom.”
That’s when it hit me. This girl and I had far more in common than I was comfortable with. She’d lost a parent at a young age and been thrust upon a father unprepared to raise a young girl. Since I’d been hired, I’d been secretly applying for teaching positions. The plan to split at the first opportunity suddenly became more complicated. I looked at Addy and saw a partial reflection of myself.
“Come on.” I rolled from the bed. “The first thing we need to do is design a special carrier for Mr. Wiggles. I think he deserves a Viking funeral.”
Addy followed me from the bunk, holding onto the Tupperware containing Mr. Wiggles. She scrunched up her nose. “What’s a Viking funeral?”
“You’ll see.”
One a.m. and it was way past Addy’s bedtime. And mine. I’d sat Addy at the Formica built-in table. Pressing a finger to my lips, I instructed her to be quiet. Her tutor, a young woman with a sour temperament, still slept in the bunk nearest us. “Don’t wake the dragon,” I whispered. Addy stifled a giggle. Others snoozed too—Billy’s personal chef, housekeeper and assistants. The man had an entourage to rival the Queen of England’s. Such a priss.
I’d searched the cabinets, withdrawing tubs of markers, bottles of glitter and glue. Then I fished an empty shoebox from the closet. Together we made a casket for Mr. Wiggles. By the time we were done, the shoe-box was bedazzled within an inch of its life. We slipped on our shoes and crept outside, walking a good distance from the tour buses.
A few feet away, a bodyguard stood. Billy stationed one permanently outside our bus after a groupie wandered in and scared Addy and me half to death. His solution had been an extra twenty-four-hour guard. Mine had been to limit the groupies. Guess whose we went with?
“What do we do now?” Addy asked.
I placed the shoebox on the ground and stepped back. “Now we say a few of our favorite things about—”
The back stage door sprung open, ricocheting off the concrete wall with a loud bang. Fans lining the chain-link fence began screaming and chanting for Wanks and Janks. Luckily, we were shielded from their view by a series of tents. Security filed out first, then the opening band, and finally Wanks and Janks.
“Billy!” Addy exclaimed, then she took off in a run.
Billy’s arms were wrapped around two groupies’ necks. A blond and a redhead, both wore short skirts and low-cut tops, extenuating perfectly toned thighs and high, round breasts. He hadn’t lied when he said he had a thing for redheads. Something I wished I didn’t know. He also liked to have threesomes—another thing I wished I didn’t know. I chased after Addy.
Billy spied Addy and whispered something into the blonde’s ear. The groupies smirked and left his side, climbing onto his bus with the rest of the band and some roadies. Addy’s father caught her, lifting her by the armpits, and swung her around. “Little bird! What are you doing up? I thought that stodgy nanny of yours said no gallivanting past seven-thirty? Have you flown the coop?”
I gnashed my teeth together. As attractive as I found Billy, I found him equal parts aggravating.
Billy put Addy down and rubbed her head. He faced me, a frown on his handsome face. His blond hair was slicked back and his T-shirt damp with sweat. “Ah, there you are, flower. Thought you might be neglecting your duties.”
Another teeth gnash. Oh, I got it now. I understood why all the other nannies hadn’t lasted. It wasn’t the little girl, who most days was sweet as pie. It was her father. Temperamental ass. Billy eyes drifted down. I hadn’t bothered to get dressed, throwing on a long cardigan over my white tank and sleep shorts and stuffing my bare feet into sneakers; I didn’t think we’d run into anyone. Green eyes settled on my heaving cleavage. Even though I didn’t have all the assets the groupies had, I did have one: my breasts were fantastic. Soft and natural. Colin, my Navy SEAL, loved them. Hastily, I buttoned up my cardigan. “No neglect happening here, Billy. Addy and I had something to do, then it’s right to bed for both of us.” God, could I sound any more prim and proper? How could I be, at just twenty-four, the most mature person around?
Addy tugged on the hem of her father’s shirt. “Mr. Wiggles died.”
A superior blond eyebrow arched. “Mr. Wiggles?”
“My pet. We’re having a Viking funeral.”
“Addy, I’m sure your father is busy,” I interjected.
“Come see, Billy.” Addy grabbed Billy’s wrist and dragged him forward until they stood in front of the box. Now that I looked at it, it seemed kind of sad and ridiculous. A funeral for a cockroach. Embarrassment snaked up my spine. I was thankful for the dark, thankful Billy couldn’t see the flush creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. Addy babbled on, explaining what a funeral is, repeating nearly verbatim what I’d told her. “Would you like to say something about Mr. Wiggles?” Addy asked.
Billy appeared dumbfounded. I smirked. “Yes, Billy. Why don’t you share a fond memory of Addy’s pet,” I said.
Billy rocked back on his feet then fished around his pocket. He withdrew a pack of cigarettes, tapped one out and lit it. He inhaled deeply as he considered what to say about his daughter’s dead roach. I plucked the cigarette from his fingers and stomped it out. His eyes drew wide and a scowl lit his face. “What the fuck?”
“Language,” I hissed. “Haven’t you heard secondhand smoke kills?”
“I got a set of iron lungs and so does my kid.” To prove h
is point, he took another cigarette out and lit it. But this time, he exhaled opposite Addy’s direction.
Smoking was a trigger for me. My mother died of cancer. Not lung. Breast cancer, but still, I couldn’t abide it. I reached for the cigarette again. Billy stepped away. “Don’t you fucking dare, flower. I’ll put you over my knee.” Sexy thoughts eclipsed my anger, stalled my steps. Warmth gathered in my nether regions. “You’re acting nuts,” Billy ground out, exhaling smoke from his nostrils.
“I’m doing my job and looking out for your child’s welfare.” At that, Billy’s face morphed from mildly angry to furious. He advanced on me. I should’ve run, but my feet wouldn’t cooperate. We faced each other. My toes curled in my sneakers.
Veins in his neck and hands stood out. “I don’t like your tone, flower.”
“And I don’t like you smoking around Addy.”
“I think you should keep your pretty little nose out of my business,” he said in a low voice.
He’d called me pretty. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t be aroused. “I’d be glad to. As long as it doesn’t interfere with Addy’s wellbeing.” Smoke curled between us; I made a big to-do about waving it away and coughing.
He pointed at me, at the space between my eyebrows, cigarette clutched between two fingers. “You’re on thin ice, nanny. And you’re being overdramatic.”
I’d never wanted to punch someone more. Though my father was in the military, I was a pacifist. When I found a spider inside, I gently ushered it into a container and set it free outdoors. But Billy inspired violence in me. Violence and lust. I didn’t recognize myself around him.
“I’m cold,” Addy said through chattering teeth. Saved by the eight-year-old.
I glanced down at the top of her dark head. “Sorry, sweetheart. Let’s say a few quick words about Mr. Wiggles and go to bed. In the morning we can have hot chocolate.”
Addy’s mouth turned up, a full grin. “With marshmallows?”
Hard Lessons: (A Wild Minds Prequel Novel) Page 2
