Fooling Around

by Noelle Adams

  Before she’d moved in with her parents, she’d been living in on-campus housing while she did her graduate work, because it was cheap and convenient. This room wasn’t any better than a dorm room. She wondered vaguely what it would feel like to have a place of her own.

  At the moment, she couldn’t even imagine.

  She opened the top drawer of her dresser and looked in at the collection of colorful, sexy lingerie. She’d been buying it for several years now, her one indulgence. She had lacy bras and matching panties and quite a few lovely gowns and chemises. Even though she knew it was silly, she’d kept buying pretty lingerie with any extra money she earned that didn’t have to go toward the household bills.

  No one else saw it anymore. Just her. But it made her feel like she had a little bit of fun in her life, something to make her feel beautiful—even though she was the only one who knew.

  She reached out to stroke the silk of one of the chemises. Maybe one day she would wear it for someone. She imagined herself doing so—her daydream self who did exciting things that she never could—but the fantasy faded quickly.

  Her mother was gone. Both of her parents were gone. And she couldn’t even picture herself waking up tomorrow without someone to take care of, much less breaking out and doing something uncharacteristically wild and free.

  Closing the drawer, she returned to the rocking chair and sank into it again.

  She felt so bleak and lonely it paralyzed her. She was trying to talk herself out of it—trying to make herself do something constructive—when her phone rang again.

  This time it was probably her sister, Marie.

  She found enough energy to lift the phone and was surprised to see a number she didn’t know. She didn’t usually answer numbers she didn’t recognize, but she needed something to get her out of this boneless slump. She answered. “Hello?”

  “Is this Julie Nelson?”

  The voice sounded vaguely familiar. “Yes.”

  “This is Eric Vincent.” He paused as if she were supposed to recognize that name.

  “Yes?”

  “I was in the elevator with you earlier.”

  That was why the voice had triggered familiarity. Of course it was him. That big, handsome, arrogant, rude man with the broken leg. “Oh. Hi.”

  “You left the hospital before I could speak to you.”

  “I had things to do. I didn’t think we were sticking around for hugs and kisses.” She wasn’t usually so snarky, but she was tired and his attitude had really bugged her in the elevator.

  “I have a proposition for you.”

  She blinked. Despite their unexpectedness, the words were just like him. No niceties. No small talk. No explanations. No apologies for calling a stranger out of the blue and interrupting her day. Just a blunt declaration, as if he had every right to make it. “A proposition?”

  “Yes. I broke my leg two weeks ago, and I’ll be in a cast for at least three months. This is a problem for me.”

  “I imagine it would be a problem for anyone.”

  “Sure, but I have very little patience with people fussing over me.”

  This didn’t surprise her. She waited for the rest of whatever strange proposition he was about to issue.

  “I need a little help, though, for the next three months, and I need someone who isn’t going to drive me crazy.”

  “And?”

  “And I want you to be that person.”

  She’d been rocking back and forth in the chair, but on these words she froze, tilted forward in the rocker.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked, sounding slightly impatient.

  “Of course I heard you. I just don’t understand what you’re thinking. I told you I’m not a nurse.”

  “I don’t need a nurse. I have nurses. I have a PA who helps me with my normal daily stuff. I need a different kind of assistant for the next three months. Someone who will just help me out with getting around and making me comfortable.”

  “Just how comfortable are you thinking?” she asked, her eyebrows arching as she thought about what this strange, entitled man might be asking her.

  His voice was very dry as he responded, “If I wanted that kind of assistance, I promise I could find it easily—without paying for it.”

  She had no doubt that was true. He was good-looking and gave off that confident, successful vibe. He was probably tripping over women who wanted him romantically, sexually, domestically. “So what exactly are you asking me to do?”

  “Be my assistant for three months. Just handle little things like you did on the elevator. Keep me from going crazy.”

  She tried to think back to what she’d done for him. She couldn’t remember anything, except that she’d given him a bottle of water, since he’d looked so hot, and she’d adjusted his footrest after he’d bumped into the wall. Her mother had used a wheelchair for several weeks after her first stroke, since the paralysis had kept her from walking, and he had looked uncomfortable with the way the leg rest was set.

  “So what do you say? I’d pay you well.”

  His matter-of-fact tone brought her out of her thoughts. The man actually thought she would do it. “And it didn’t occur to you that I have a life? A job? A family? You think I can just pack up and work for you for three months?”

  “I asked about you at the funeral home. They told me your mother had just died, and you didn’t have any other family commitments. I’ll pay you enough to make it worth your while.”

  He was serious. He was absolutely serious about her tucking him in and mopping his brow for the next three months. “I don’t even know who you are.”

  “I told you. I’m Eric Vincent. I played football for a while and then I developed a popular video game. Just Google me if you want more information.”

  She frowned as she got out of her chair and went to her computer. The man was smugger than anyone she’d ever met. “I didn’t ask for your résumé. I don’t know anything about your character. I’d have no idea what I was getting into with you. I’m not in the habit of trusting strange men I meet on the elevator, you know.”

  As she spoke, she typed his name into a web search on her laptop, and she felt a tightening of annoyance as she saw the list of results. The slick website of the sports video game he’d developed—one that even she had heard of. Dozens of articles about his selling to his partner and some other investors for almost two billion dollars last year. Hundreds of mentions of his athletic, entrepreneurial, and romantic prowess. A money blog speculating that his net worth was an astronomical sum. Pictures of him in uniform when he played college and professional football. A women’s magazine listing him as one of the sexiest bachelors in the world last year. A number of columns guessing about the new project he was evidently working on now.

  No wonder he was so arrogant. The world apparently believed he could do no wrong.

  “I can give you character references, if you want,” he said, sounding almost amused, as if she was being silly and old-fashioned. “You can talk to the rest of my staff. They’ll tell you I’m rude but not in the habit of taking advantage of anyone.”

  “This is crazy. How much are you going to pay me to make it worth picking up my whole life to follow you around for three months?”

  “What’s your yearly salary?”

  Her yearly salary was a pittance. She made less than three thousand dollars for each online class she taught, and since she was an adjunct, the money didn’t come with any benefits. “That’s none of your business.”

  “All right. I’ll give you a hundred thousand for three months’ work.”

  She swallowed. It would take her at least three years to make that much at her current rate.

  But being in the elevator with the man for ten minutes had made her want to strangle him. Plus, he was weird and obnoxious, and this whole thing sounded suspicious. “I don’t think—”

  “Two hundred thousand.”

  “I’m not negotiating for more money. I actually don’t wan
t to do this.”

  “Half a million.”

  Who was this guy, to throw around those kinds of numbers? “You’re crazy. You can advertise for a nurse and get someone a lot more qualified than me.”

  “I’ve had four nurses in two weeks. They’re not working out for me. I want you.”

  “I don’t care if you want me. I’m not on the job market.” She’d always planned to teach history at the college level—a small college where she could get to know her students and wouldn’t have a lot of pressure to publish all the time. But she couldn’t imagine trying to get back into her dissertation right now.

  “I bet you will be if I can get to the right number. Seven hundred and fifty thousand.”

  “Would you stop it with that? I said I’m not interested. I don’t like you.”

  “You don’t have to like me. That’s not part of the job. I’ll pay you a million dollars for three months’ work,” he said, sounding businesslike and confident. “I’ll pay you a quarter of that immediately, after we sign the contract. I’ll pay you another quarter at the midpoint. And I’ll pay you the rest at the end of the three months. Now tell me, for real, what other job could you possibly do that would earn you that much money?”

  There was no job. No job in the world that she was qualified to do would give her so much money. She wasn’t likely to earn that much in her entire lifetime, doing what she was doing now. Even if she managed to finish her PhD, she wasn’t likely to get a job even close to that lucrative.

  It was ridiculous. Insane. This whole thing was unreal.

  She didn’t trust it, although she was almost dizzy with the possibility. Paying off the rest of the medical bills. Paying off her student loans and credit cards. Buying a house—maybe near the ocean. Getting a complete restart on her life.

  “It’s too good to refuse, isn’t it?” he said, an edge of amusement to his tone.

  She was usually an easygoing, rather passive person. She was used to doing whatever it took to help other people. But his arrogance triggered something contrary in her. “You can’t just buy me off, you know.”

  “I bet I can. For a million dollars? I bet I can.”

  “I’m hanging up now.”

  “Okay. Think about it overnight. I’ll call you tomorrow to get an answer.”

  Julie suddenly remembered her mother had died this afternoon. The grief slammed into her hard, along with guilt for letting it slip out of her mind for a few moments. “Not tomorrow. My mom just died.”

  He paused for a moment, and she suddenly understood that he had a human side after all. The reminder that her mother had just died had made him hesitate. Then he said, “When is the funeral?”

  “Tomorrow, if we can arrange it that quickly, or the next day.” There was no family to fly in from out of state, so they could move fast.

  “I’ll call you Friday, then. You can give me your answer then.”

  Before she could respond—maybe tell him to go to hell—he’d hung up.

  She stared at the phone for a long time, wondering what had just happened, if it was real, if it was something she should even consider.

  She tried to push it out of her mind, but she couldn’t entirely do so.

  Maybe it wasn’t as crazy as it sounded.

  —

  Eric hung up the phone, satisfied that Julie would agree to be his assistant. He’d found most people were easy enough to manage, as long as they were offered the right incentive. Money was the incentive that worked most often.

  At the moment, he was alone in the office, since he’d sent Kristin to do an errand and dismissed the nurse back to her agency. He just had to make it through two more days. Then Julie Nelson would come to work for him, and maybe he wouldn’t feel like roaring in frustration at every moment of the day.

  He was considering pouring himself a drink when his phone rang. He answered it as soon as he saw the caller. “Hi, Peanut,” he said.

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  Eric only saw his daughter, Maddy, every few weekends, since she lived in Raleigh with her mother. After Trish had gotten pregnant during a drunken one-night stand, she’d insisted that the girl live a normal life, one not affected by Eric’s money and notoriety. Eric had agreed, since he wanted to be part of his daughter’s life.

  He hadn’t realized back then how hard it would be to see his daughter so infrequently.

  “How was school today?” he asked, wondering why Maddy had called at such a strange time. He called her every evening, so she called him only if she had something in particular to say.

  “It was okay. I left early because I had to go to the doctor.”

  Eric stiffened slightly. “I thought your appointment was tomorrow.”

  “It was, but he had someone cancel, so I got in early.”

  “And how was it?”

  “It hurt a lot. They stuck a big needle in my back.”

  Eric shuddered at the thought of his eight-year-old daughter going through such a painful procedure. If it made her better, it would be worth it, but it was still deeply disturbing to think about. It was just like Maddy to talk about it in such a matter-of-fact way. “I know. It was a hard thing to go through.”

  “Mom says it’s going to make me better.”

  “That’s what we’re hoping. You just have to keep being brave to get through the bad stuff.”

  For the last three years, Maddy had suffered from a neurological condition that caused debilitating headaches, dizziness, and disorientation. She’d been diagnosed with everything from lupus to an invisible brain tumor, but so far none of the treatments they’d tried had been effective. Eric had finally pulled some strings to get her in to see a specialist at Duke, and they all had great hopes for this latest treatment.

  “I know,” Maddy said. “I’m staying brave.”

  “Good.” He searched his mind for something encouraging to say and came up with nothing. He was momentarily overwhelmed with guilt that he’d been grumbling so much about a broken leg when his daughter had to live through this.

  But one of the best doctors in the world was taking care of her. They had a promising treatment. Pretty soon, she would be okay. If this doctor didn’t work out, then he’d find her a better one.

  Once his daughter was better and his leg healed, then his world would be back under his control.

  —

  A couple of hours later, Julie was sitting on a stool in her sister’s kitchen, slumped over on the large granite bar. She’d been lonely and confused, so she’d headed over to Marie’s house in one of the new developments about forty-five minutes outside of Charlotte. Her sister had asked her to help chop vegetables for the stew she was making.

  A pile of diced vegetables lay on the cutting board, and now Julie was so exhausted she couldn’t move. Her sister was still on the phone, talking to one of her many friends about how hard her mother’s death was on her and how long she’d devoted herself to taking care of her.

  At a few points, Julie was hard-pressed not to roll her eyes. Her sister had always been a bit of a drama queen, so it wasn’t anything new. But Marie was talking like she’d been the one to live with their parents, tend to their needs, do all the small, difficult acts of care for them as they aged. At most, Marie had visited a couple of times a week, unless one of them had been in the hospital, when she’d stopped by more often.

  “Anyway,” Marie said at last, after taking a sip of the glass of wine she’d poured when Julie first arrived, “I better get going. There’s a lot to do with funeral arrangements.”

  There wasn’t anything left to do. Julie had handled all the last details before she’d come over.

  Marie looked a lot like Julie, except her hair was highlighted, she always wore makeup, and she worked out every day, so she was in better shape. She pushed her hair behind her shoulders as she hung up the phone at last. “Sorry about that,” she told her sister. “You know how it is.”

  Julie actually didn’t know how it was, but she didn’t argue.
“It’s fine.”

  “Do you think you could go pick up the kids from school in a half hour? I’ve got to finish this stew and clean up, and I’m so sad I can barely move.” Marie drooped back against the counter.

  “Sure,” Julie said. She loved her nieces and nephews—although she sometimes thought they needed a little more discipline—and she liked to spend time with them. At least it would be a distraction from thoughts of her mother, of the lonely house waiting for her, of having absolutely no purpose in her life anymore.

  Marie brushed away tears from her eyes. “I don’t know how you’re so practical about everything. I feel things so deeply, so any blow makes me fall apart.”

  Julie knew from long experience that there wasn’t any use in arguing, explaining that just because she didn’t do high drama didn’t mean she didn’t feel things just as deeply as her sister. “I can pick up the kids.”

  “Thank you.” Marie straightened up, her tears disappearing for the moment. “Doug and I were talking last night, and we agreed that you can move in here with us now.”

  Julie blinked. “What?”

  “Well, we’re going to sell that house, right? It’s a piece of junk, but the property is valuable, being so close to the city, so we could make some okay money on it. Then you won’t have anywhere to go, so we decided that it wouldn’t be too much trouble for you to move in here. There’s that room above the garage. You could teach your classes and help around the house. You know how busy and stressed I always am. Four kids is so much, plus all my community work and taking care of Doug.”

  Marie’s days were always packed with errands and meetings and social engagements. Julie was pretty sure her sister could cut her schedule down by half and not lose anything important. She could just imagine what her life would be like, living with Marie. She’d be the live-in, unpaid housekeeper and nanny, while her sister was freed up to go out more often to get her hair done.

  But she had no idea what else to do, unless she took Eric up on his offer. She didn’t have the energy to do much of anything right now. And at least with Marie and her family she wouldn’t be alone.