Whiskey and Regret

by Danielle James

  “I’m not done. What is this nonsense I heard from Alexis about you taking full custody of Francesca and getting a nanny without consulting her?”

  “Why are you even talking to Alexis?” I didn’t need to hear his answer though. I knew why. He thought Alexis was the perfect political wife. She was beautiful and came from a wealthy family. She went to all the right schools and she fit into the mold perfectly.

  The problem came from us not being in love. We were only put together because our families were friends and went to the same clubs and parties. Alexis was a socialite from the jump. She didn’t give a fuck about giving people opportunities or making the lives of her fellow citizen better. She cared about being seen and being maintained.

  I was perfect in her eyes because I was able to take care of her. I realized when I stood at the foot of the aisle on our wedding day that it was a mistake I’d regret for the rest of my life. I still tried to hang in there. I told myself love would come.

  It never fucking came.

  Headaches came.

  Trust issues came.

  Love didn’t.

  I learned to ignore it once Frankie was born. I threw myself into being her father and starting my political career as a senator. The older Frankie got, the less I was able to stand being around Alexis. Eventually, we divorced and went our separate ways. I paid her alimony and took good enough care of Frankie that I didn’t need to be put on child support.

  My parents were pissed that we’d gotten a divorce. My father hated how it made me look in the eyes of the state and country. My mother wanted me to find another wife immediately. She still sends me information on women she thinks I’d match well with.

  I didn’t match well with anyone. Nobody understood me and I wasn’t willing to open up. I was in the public eye too much and it was hard to distinguish between a woman who wanted me for me or who wanted me because of who I was. I was better off being alone.

  I knew who to call when I needed pussy. I knew who to call when I needed my dick sucked. I knew who to call when I wanted threesomes. My sexual needs were being met. I was happy to have my house to myself. I was more productive without Alexis crowding my space.

  Hell would have to freeze over before I ever thought about getting married again.

  I was fine being the bachelor senator.

  “Alexis is my daughter-in-law,” Dad said.

  “No. She’s not. When I divorced her, she became your ex-daughter-in-law.”

  “Either way, a mother needs her child. She’s still Francesca’s mother.”

  “And I’m still her father. I’m not going to let my child get neglected because she doesn’t subscribe to Alexis’s flashy front-page lifestyle. She’s better off with me right now. If things change then I’ll reevaluate.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” he grunted. “Who is this nanny? Alexis doesn’t seem to think she’s fit to tie Francesca’s shoe. Who else’s child has she nannied for? Maybe I can ask around about her background. She’s not illegal, is she?”

  “Goodbye, Dad.” I ended the call and pressed the heels of my hands against the edge of the counter, letting my head drop and my shoulders rise.

  I stared into my glass of whiskey and shook my head at my father. When they were picking parents in heaven what the hell made them pick Warren Freeman for me? He was stubborn, set in his ways, and always pushing an agenda.

  Soft melodic sounds coming from the formal living room pulled me out of my frustration long enough to make me curious. I tilted my head and listened to the haunting sound.

  What the hell was that? I knew that song.

  My feet led me down the hall and to the left where I saw Xari sitting on a stool in front of a giant harp at least four times her size. I was transfixed by the way she wielded the instrument like it weighed nothing tipping it back and forth and cradling her head against it like she was rocking a child.

  The most impressive and stunning thing to witness was the way her fingers moved. She pushed notes through the air by moving her fingers so eloquently that I became hypnotized. Her entire body was at ease. The smooth lines of her arms and back flowed like water.

  “The Boy Is Mine. Brandy and Monica,” I said, finally recognizing the tune. Xari’s eyes popped open and she looked at me with surprise. She had to have felt me standing there.

  “Oh my fucking god. You need a bell around your neck,” she gasped.

  “You seriously didn’t feel me standing behind you?” I took a sip of whiskey then stood in front of her.

  “When I’m playing, I get lost between the notes somewhere.”

  “I see.” I scaled the impressive harp with my eyes then looked at Xari again. “So, you like to play R&B on your harp?”

  “I love fusing the sound of the harp with modern music. It excites me but don’t get me wrong, I love my classics. I can’t go a day without digging my fingers into Beethoven or Chopin.” Her eyes lit up and her deep dimples popped, drawing my eyes to her smile.

  “You’re amazing, Xari.” I took another step closer. My hands were ready to disobey my mind at the first signal from my dick. I needed to step away from her. I’d been drinking way too much. I was home from work, it was the weekend, and I had an absolutely gorgeous woman playing magical harp music in my living room.

  It was a recipe for ruin.

  “You think so? Some of those notes sounded flat.” Her brows furled together and she pushed her full lips to the side. I stared at her deep dimple and fought the urge to poke the tip of my finger into the divot. “I think I might need to tune her.”

  “Did she arrive without a scratch?” I quizzed, looking at the harp instead of Xari. My mind couldn’t handle looking at her for too long. Especially when I was tipsy.

  “She did. I guess I owe you an outfit change.”

  “I guess you do,” I brought my glass to my lips and she watched me like she was ready to pounce.

  “So you drink all day on the weekends, huh, Evander?” I’d be a bald-faced liar if I said I didn’t like the way she said my name. It made my dick hard, to be honest. I had to talk it down while I was that close to her. I couldn’t stop it from getting semi-hard and pressing against my thigh though.

  “I have to relax some kind of way, right?”

  “You relax by writing. Not drinking.” I watched her fiddle with the pedals at the base of the harp then with the strings, plucking the same ones over and over until she moved on to the next.

  “And you know this how?” I took another sip of the comforting whiskey.

  “Because when I walked in and you were writing, you were into it. I know what passion looks like. Trust me. I chase it daily.”

  “Writing is a hobby that helps relieve stress. That’s it.”

  “You protected your words like they were your children when I tried to see what you were writing. You love it just as much as you love Frankie.”

  I felt seen but not in a way that I appreciated. I felt exposed. I took another drink and stepped away from Xari.

  “I think that statement is a bit…grand. Don’t you?” I tried to conceal how much she revealed with one statement.

  “I think you’re starting to hide behind your stick in the mud act again.” She pulled her scrutinizing espresso eyes away from her harp and locked onto me. “You can tell yourself whatever you want, Evander Freeman. You can pretend writing is a hobby but you know it’s more than that.”

  “Are you an oracle now? You know things I don’t even know about myself?”

  I knew writing was more than a hobby. She was right. She hit the nail on the fucking head but I refused to let her know that.

  “Yes, I’m the oracle. I know all. I see all.” She took a seat on the stool that matched her harp to a tee with the same blonde wood and ornate carvings and began playing again. I didn’t recognize the tune that time but it was classical. She played with ease but there was something mad beneath her surface. Something incessant and constant.

  Insanity.

  It sparked somethi
ng hot like lava inside of me. I realized I could watch her play those strings forever. I would pay her just to hear music floating through the house all the time. It sounded like a concert in heaven.

  When the music abruptly stopped, my ears fell into an abyss of silence and loneliness. Xari’s music was fucking brilliant.

  “Did you hear that?” She asked, standing and taking a few steps toward me. Her narrow shoulders were squared like we were facing off or something.

  “The music? Yeah.”

  “No. The passion. The precision. I’m the absolute fucking best. Not because I can outplay any other harpist but because I get up and challenge myself every day. I go harder than I did the day before. I work until nothing makes sense and real-life bleeds away. Sometimes, I fall asleep playing.

  You know why, Evander?” She tipped her head to one side and my hand broke the rules to touch her once again. My fingertips slid along her silky bare shoulder. Sun-kissed brown sugar.

  “Why, Xari?” I asked with a sigh.

  “Because I’m obsessed with it. It’s running through me. I play the harp in my sleep. I dream about sitting on stage with an orchestra. I play solos when I daydream. I see my audience and hear their applause.” The pulse at the base of her throat jumped with excitement and it was contagious. The more she spoke, the more I saw myself every night tapping away at keys. I saw myself hunched over my desk at work just getting any amount of words in so that my day didn’t feel like a waste.

  Passion.

  That’s what she sparked in me. I felt it crackle through my body like lightning. My pulse matched hers. I slid my finger to the dip between her delicate collarbones but I only let it sit for a second before moving to her chin, tipping her head up so I could see better into those pools of coffee. I wanted my lips on hers. I wanted to kiss away the color until nothing remained and she was bare.

  She wanted it too. I saw the way her thick lashes dropped, casting half-moon shadows on her cheeks. I felt her breathing hitch and I saw the subtle goosebumps roll across her golden skin.

  I dipped my head, studying the way sunlight licked her regal cheekbones and danced along her freckles. The desire to kiss her burned slow beneath my morals and logic, singeing the rope holding them together.

  Her soft panting was warm on my lips. I could almost taste whatever fruity candy she’d been sucking on before. I wanted to taste the candy on her tongue. Sucking and probing and owning.

  “Xari did your harp come?” Frankie’s voice bounced around the corner. It was a grenade destroying any semblance of a kiss that might have been shared between us.

  Wide espresso eyes popped open and regarded me. A soft flush crept across the tops of her cheeks and mottled her throat like she held the same burning desire inside that I did. I had to get the fuck away from her before I made some bad decisions.

  I’d never been happier to see my child walk into a room. Her bight eyes and smiling face put me where I was supposed to be. I was a father. I was a goddamn senator, and I’d employed Xari to take care of my daughter when I was at work.

  I couldn’t get caught fucking my nanny. It was to cliché. It would tarnish my image. Alexis would have a field day and try to take Frankie back. That was all the motivation I needed to pretend like that almost-kiss never happened.

  “Yeah, it came. All in one piece too,” Xari grinned. It was pulled a little too tight. I tried to steal a glance at the tell-tale thump at the base of her throat but she’d already dissolved into her role with Frankie. I took that as my sign to get the hell out of there and back to the den where I could throw myself into my book. It was either that or go to my room, lock the door, and jerk my dick until I came.

  …

  ELEVEN

  “Wake up! Wake up!”

  I pushed my satin sleep mask onto my forehead and looked at Frankie bouncing on my bed like a lunatic.

  “What’s up, Frank?” I dragged myself into a sitting position and waited for her to explain why she was waking me up.

  “You know what today is?” Her smile was so big and bright I didn’t need to open the curtains to see the sun.

  “What’s today, Frank?” I rubbed my tired eyes and stretched my hands high above my head to work out the stiff kinks in my back.

  “The last day of your one-month probationary period. I know Daddy is going to hire you for good and I think Mom will come around too. She’s tired of picking me up from school every day.” She climbed up beside me in bed and laid her head on my shoulder. I stroked her fluffy curls and sighed softly.

  “I hope he hires me for good.” The weekly paychecks helped to pay my car note but it wasn’t enough to put a payment on all of my cards. I should have canceled most of them like Evander suggested.

  I was just so happy to be able to pay for my car that I didn’t think much beyond it. I still hadn’t figured out how to make extra money to help pay more of my bills. I told myself that if I was hired permanently that I’d figure it all out then. Today was the moment of truth.

  “Come on, let’s go downstairs and make pancakes. Nobody can say no with pancakes for breakfast.” The shining innocence in her eyes was so damn cute. Sometimes Frankie was this amazingly mature twelve-year-old then other times she reminded me that she was still a child in all the ways that mattered. She still saw the world through rose-colored glasses and she still thought life went on forever. We were only eight years apart but the realization had already hit me that nothing lasted forever.

  I understood that once my parents let me know they were serious about cutting me off so I could stand on my own two feet. I also understood why I shouldn’t count on anything as permanent. I had to take care of myself because it wasn’t anyone else’s responsibility. It was hard work untangling the mess I’d left for myself though.

  I went into the kitchen with Frankie and started on homemade pancakes. I’d been showing her how to make something other than scrambled eggs, so she was excited to measure everything out and get the griddle ready. I promised her by the time I was done teaching her, she’d be a pro.

  “Use the scoop and pour it onto the griddle, right? But mine never come out round like yours.” Her full lips fell into a pout.

  “Practice makes perfect, Frankie. The fucked up pancakes are still edible. Plus, not everyone can be perfect like me.” I grinned then batted my lashes at her. Her response was to shove me until I stumbled to the side, mostly because of how hard I was laughing.

  “Hey, Miss Lucas, watch your mouth.” Evander walked into the kitchen and my stomach flopped.

  After we came so close to kissing last month, I tried my best to stay out of his way and keep things professional.

  Me. Keeping things professional. Let that sink in.

  Normally, I would have poked at him until he confessed his attraction to me, then I would have fucked him just to blow his mind and confirm that he was indeed made from darling dick stock. Instead, the new version of me was steering clear of anything that could jeopardize my job.

  It didn’t change the fact that whenever he walked into a room my body went fucking nuts and I had to physically restrain myself. When I saw him standing at the island wearing a pair of red and gray sweats and a matching hoodie, I thought I would flood my fucking leggings because I damn sure didn’t have on panties.

  The way he effortlessly switched between a suit and tie and streetwear was fascinating. I, on the other hand, only had one mode. Fabulous. At. All. Times.

  He shifted around playing on the line of who he portrayed versus who he was.

  I liked both versions.

  I wanted to fuck both versions.

  “Are we back to that?” I sighed. “I thought you were calling me by my first name.”

  “When you behave, yes.” God, did he have to look at me that way? His eyes were brown like the whiskey he always drank. They had the same effect too. I was dizzy from one glance.

  I couldn’t figure out what the hell my obsession was with Evander. I wanted to strip naked and ride hi
s dick until I came even though I knew the sex would be mediocre at best. Maybe it was something I needed to get out of my system.

  “When I behave?” I folded my arms across my chest and glared at him. “You see this gorgeous girl over here?” I rubbed Frankie’s back. “She’s your kid. Not me. I don’t have to behave.”

  “Okay, guys. Cut it out. You’re messing up my pancakes.” Frankie pushed out a frustrated huff then shook her head at the lopsided pancakes she was piling up on the plate. I swallowed my amusement and squeezed her shoulder.

  “Those are perfect, Frank. At least now they’re less glob-like and more oval-like. You’re getting closer.”

  “Are you being serious or…” She wrinkled her button nose at me.

  “I’m serious,” I smiled. “Just because I like to roast you a little doesn’t mean I’m not serious. You are getting better.” I caught a glimpse of Evander looking at me over his coffee mug but I didn’t call attention to it. Even though it made me tingle.

  “I’m sure they’ll taste great, sweetheart,” Evander chimed in. “Make enough for your mother to have some. She’s stopping by so we can all talk before you go to her house.”

  “All?” I said, jerking my eyebrow up.

  “Yes, Xari. All. Me, you, Frankie, and Alexis. I’m putting an end to this childish nonsense she’s putting us through. It’ll be a lot easier if she fills out the papers the school is asking for instead of constantly picking you up late from school.” His whiskey brown eyes flicked to Frankie, then back to me.

  Lingering. Clinging to my skin.

  I forgot I had on a silk pajama short set until I felt my nipples press against the cool fabric, tightening until they ached. I was hyper-aware after Evander licked me from head to toe with his eyes. I glanced over my shoulder to see if Frankie noticed but she was focused on her pancakes. They were getting rounder each time she flipped one off the griddle.

  “You’re doing good, girl. Now, let me go upstairs to get dressed before the lovely Miss Alexis comes over.” I poured so much sugar on my words both Evander and Frankie laughed.