Faking it with #41

by Piper Rayne

I don’t bother asking how he knows. He probably wouldn’t answer me even if I did. He’s only really granted Lena any attention since we started and that’s bothering me. I wish I had an explanation.

  “What about him reading her a story? Maybe we can do some shots in her nursery,” Gavin suggests.

  Lena touches his arm and shakes her head.

  “Why not?” I ask, forehead wrinkling.

  “Since this is new, Ford hasn’t had the time to decorate the room,” she tells Gavin.

  He tilts his head, then turns to give me his attention. “You knew for months that the baby was coming. I understand you didn’t know about the mother leaving her, but—”

  “Let’s just leave it at this. I can get her a book.” Lena glances at me as if I might have a book at the ready that I read to her every night.

  She’s four months old, it’s not like she’d comprehend a storybook.

  Lena must see my puzzled expression. “There will be more opportunities for those kind of pictures in the future. Let’s just capture these and get this article out.”

  Gavin nods as if there’s an underlying agreement between them.

  “This is the last pose I’m doing.” I say it in a tone that I’m sure no one will challenge.

  Lena’s phone rings and she holds up her finger, stepping back into the house.

  “How about you on the floor and her under her jungle gym thing?” Gavin points inside.

  “Whatever gets this over the fastest,” I mumble.

  They move the lighting back inside, and as I walk into my house, Gavin stops me with a hand on my arm. “Lena’s a great girl. She worked hard to get here. I’d listen to what she has to say if I were you.”

  I narrow my eyes and my jaw tics. “She works for my father, not me. I have a game to get to.”

  He huffs as though I’m an asshole. Whatever. Lena gave him an oyster nestled with a pearl with this Jacobs’ family heir exclusive and he didn’t even have to fish.

  I should put in my notice with Mr. Jacobs right now because the thoughts going through my head about his son are far from professional.

  Ford is model hot in a clean-cut, wealthy way. Men like him aren’t usually my type. And although he’s a pompous ass, seeing him with his daughter makes me want to jump him. Makes me wish the one kiss we shared had gone further.

  He seems to have adopted the role of father as masterfully as he skates. The house isn’t as messy as it was the day his family ambushed him, which I’m guessing means he’s getting into a rhythm. There are prepared bottles in the fridge, neatly folded baby clothes in a laundry basket by the stairs, and Annabelle looks happy. Neither of them have bags under their eyes.

  “That about it?” Ford asks, standing from the floor. He pulls Annabelle out from under the activity mat as she’s getting cranky. “This dress is cute and all, but Annabelle’s like me and wants to dress for comfort.”

  Gavin glances at me. Ford has no idea how hard it was for me to get Gavin to push aside his plans for this shoot, and I shamelessly used the fact that Gavin hit on me all through school to make it happen. I never did anything about it back then, but I did promise him dinner tonight as friends to thank him.

  “Sure. We’ll move on to the interview. Do you have someone to watch her?” he asks.

  Ford’s eyebrows raise. “Do you see someone else?”

  Gavin nods. “Yeah, okay. So you don’t use nannies?”

  “Only when I have to. For out-of-town games. Otherwise, she has a babysitter when I’m playing in town.” He flips up his wrist, an expensive watch adorning it. “She’ll be here in two hours when I leave for the game.”

  Gavin groans. He’s not going to want to do an interview with a cranky baby interrupting the whole time.

  I raise my hand as though I’m in school. “I’ll take her.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll feed her and lay her down, but you owe my babysitter some extra cash because she won’t go down for her nap this afternoon now.”

  It’s heart melting how much he already knows his little girl, but then I remember that although Britney left a week ago, Ford’s had Annabelle for half the time anyway. During the time when his dad wasn’t up his ass and I didn’t have to come down here to straighten him out on New Year’s Eve, Ford Jacobs has become a father. Responsible for a little girl. Amazing, really.

  “I can do it,” I say.

  He carries Annabelle toward the stairs. “I wouldn’t want to put you out.” Then he’s gone.

  Anger bubbles up inside me that he’s being a dick about this. I turn to Gavin and the crew. “I’ll be back.”

  Walking up the stairs, I find myself tiptoeing because I’ve never ventured up here before. It feels private. Just as I stick to Mr. Jacobs’ office, the kitchen, and the family room at the Jacobs’ penthouse, I’ve done the same here. One time Imogen asked me to go to her room, but when I saw Mr. Jacobs in the hall in a pair of pajama pants and no shirt, I decided never to venture outside of the main rooms of the house again.

  I hear Ford’s voice before I reach Annabelle’s room. “You look beautiful in the dress, sweetie, but I bet it’s itchy. When you’re older, don’t let people dress you.”

  I peek in the room behind the door to stay hidden, addicted to seeing this big strong man be so gentle with his daughter.

  “I’ll never allow anyone to change you.” He’s cooing.

  Annabelle lets out a little noise that could be a laugh.

  I lean forward to get a better look.

  “Are you laughing at Daddy?” He puts his face on her belly and vibrates his lips against her skin. She makes the same sound and he lifts his head. “You are laughing. That’s not gas, right?”

  The amazement in his tone has my hand landing on my stomach because I’m pretty sure my ovaries did a three-sixty. Who would have ever thought he had it in him to be this man? Certainly not me.

  He does it three more times and Annabelle laughs every time.

  Picking her up, he circles her around in his arms, his smile as wide and as bright as when he’s on the rink after a win. I’m so enthralled that I don’t realize until it’s too late that he’s stopped and is staring at me.

  “I didn’t peg you for a spy.” He lowers Annabelle to the changing table again.

  I slowly step into the room. “Sorry.”

  “At least this was something good for you to tattle back to my dad.”

  “Is that what you really think I do? Tattle?”

  “You’re my father’s fetcher. So yes, I do think you tattle because that’s partly what he’s paying you for.” He changes Annabelle’s diaper without a problem and puts her in a cute onesie that says “Daddy’s Girl” with pink lettering and small flowers.

  “Your family is my business. I was hired to make you look good.”

  “You were hired to make sure to spin any fuckups.” He picks her up and holds her.

  “Yes, but—”

  He spins to face me. “I’ve always been curious. Why?”

  His anger spurs me to step back. “Why what?”

  “Why would you take this job? You can’t have much of a life. Always having to be on call to fly down here to stop me from having any fun. My dad doesn’t even talk to you with a modicum of respect.”

  I say nothing about the way his father talks to me. He talks to me like a paid employee, and I’ve been talked to in a lot worse ways, so it doesn’t get to me. At least Mr. Jacobs doesn’t talk down to me, which is more than I can say for how he talks to his son.

  “It’s none of your business, but if you must know, I went to school for this.”

  “Sure, but why not work at some big firm? You seem like the nerdy type. Surely you had good grades.” He takes the headband off Annabelle, and I swear I hear her release a sound like a sigh of relief. It reminds me of when I take off a tight dress and my Spanx after a long night out.

  “I hate to break it to you, but jobs aren’t just lined up waiting for you when you graduate college unless you
know…” I don’t finish because I’m growing madder by the minute and I’m going to say something I shouldn’t.

  “What?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing. Let’s just get this interview over with.”

  He widens his legs and his blue eyes focus on me. “Come on. Give it to me, Boyd. I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

  “I don’t have a rich daddy to set me up in his golf buddy’s business,” I say. I saw it so many times where I’d be one of the top two candidates for a position, and it would go to the person with connections. No one knew my dad except for maybe the shelter managers.

  He laughs smugly and it makes me want to smack his face. “I didn’t use shit. My dad doesn’t know anyone in the National Hockey League. I earned my spot myself.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting—”

  “Sure, you were. And if I had to work for any company, we both know it would be Jacobs Enterprises.” He stops right next to me, leaning down so he can speak directly into my ear.

  My breath hitches from the scent of his expensive cologne.

  “Money isn’t everything,” he whispers.

  I turn toward him. Our faces are millimeters apart, so close that Annabelle’s hand touches my cheek, but he doesn’t back away. “Says the trust fund boy.”

  He huffs and straightens up, moving Annabelle’s hand from my cheek. “That’s all you see me as, huh?”

  “And all you see me as is some pathetic woman who does your dad’s bidding and has to nag you to live your life on the straight and narrow.”

  He doesn’t move. The longer he stands there with his gaze on me, the more I want to fidget. But I’m not going to show him how much he intimidates me. I straighten my back instead and force myself to not do so much as even blink.

  “At least we have that straight.” He holds out Annabelle for me. “Since you’re the help, you won’t mind watching her while I go do the interview with your boyfriend.”

  I accept Annabelle and he walks out without me saying a word. Damn, why can’t I think of a comeback? Boyfriend? Does he think Gavin is my boyfriend? And if he was, what is it to him?

  I look down to find Annabelle’s eyes studying me. “Your daddy is a complicated man.”

  She smiles at me as though she understands, and I can’t help but wonder what it’s like when it’s just the two of them hanging out.

  Not wanting to interrupt the interview, I quietly go down half the stairs and sit with Annabelle in my arms. Her eyes are slowly drifting closed. She’s surely tired from all the chaos of the photo shoot. I should probably go place her in her crib, but she’s so sweet and cuddly I decide to stay where I am.

  Gavin asks Ford, “How did you feel that day when you got the letter?”

  Ford chuckles. “I can see we’re not going to ease into this.”

  “Well, the article is about you being a single dad.”

  “My first thought was that now I don’t have to share holidays.” Ford’s voice is even keeled, no emotion. Although I’ve learned his dry sense of humor since I started working with the Jacobs family, even I can’t figure out how he’s feeling right now.

  I never did find out who leaked the existence of a letter to the press, but I suppose that’s neither here nor there at this point.

  “That’s a joke,” he says. “I think my exact words were, what the fuck?”

  There’s the Ford I know.

  “I don’t blame you. Have you heard from her?” Gavin asks.

  “Her letter was pretty clear. I don’t anticipate that I will.”

  “Sometimes parenthood can feel overwhelming. Maybe she’ll return at some point.”

  “Are you a parent?” Ford asks. I imagine him on the couch, one arm slung across the back cushions, his ankle resting on his knee.

  “No.”

  “Then don’t make excuses for her. She abandoned her daughter.”

  “Is that how you see it?” Gavin asks.

  I throw my head back and look at the ceiling. He can’t even handle a bloody interview.

  Standing, I step down the stairs and Ford’s eyes narrow on me. “I think Ford meant—”

  Ford holds up his hand. “I meant what I said. She abandoned Annabelle, and yeah, parenthood is fucking overwhelming. I’m barely sleeping, barely have time to make exercise and healthy eating a priority like I used to, but I wouldn’t fucking leave her. Not for anything. Especially with someone like me. She knows nothing about me, except the size of my dick and my bank account.”

  The bitterness in his tone surprises me, maybe because he seems as though he’s taken this all in stride.

  “Don’t print that, Gavin,” I say.

  Ford’s gaze narrows on me. “With all due respect, Lena, this isn’t about my family. This is my daughter and me. I don’t remember hiring you to do my PR.”

  “Don’t talk to her like that,” Gavin says. “Why do you think you can talk to her like that?”

  He stands and so does Ford.

  How have I lost control of this situation? I step closer to them. “I’m sorry, but you’re a Jacobs and your dad hired me on your behalf. This interview is to calm down rumors that you can’t handle being a single father. So please, let’s keep Britney out of this and just stick to the fact that you’re handling it like a pro and doing an amazing job with Annabelle. Look at her.”

  I glance down to see her asleep in my arms and discover I’m rocking back and forth. Where did I learn that?

  The fury on Ford’s face falls away and one side of his lips tips up. “You think I’m doing an amazing job?”

  I blow out a breath.

  Gavin looks back and forth between the two of us. “Is there something going on between you guys?”

  We turn to him and say in unison, “No.”

  Ford steps over to me and we transition Annabelle out of my arms, his one hand brushing against my breast. A million little nerve endings go off in my body as though I’m thirteen and got felt up for the first time.

  Thank goodness I go home tonight.

  Who knew seventeen-year-old babysitters were so unpredictable? I got a last-minute call that something came up.

  Now I’m in the locker room, having had no choice but to ask Lena to watch Annabelle. And of course Gavin said he’d love to go to a game and get pictures of Annabelle watching me play. That it’d really show how I make it all work. As though I don’t know that he just wanted to tag along to be with Lena.

  Thankfully, our goalie, Roadie, had some ear protector headphone things from one of his kids handy that I could borrow, so I left Annabelle in the hands of who I think is a competent person. My dad cares about nothing more than the Jacobs’ family image, and since he’s entrusted that to Lena, I figure she can sit with my baby strapped on her chest for a couple hours and return her safe and sound. And yes, strapped because she insisted on stopping on the way to buy one of those things Gavin mentioned earlier.

  At least I got them front row seats so I can keep an eye on Annabelle during the game.

  “So now you’re making her babysit your kid?” Aiden asks.

  “What choice did I have? I can’t miss the game. Especially since we’re playing Langley.”

  “As if anyone forgot.” Aiden rolls his eyes.

  “I get anxious when we play him,” Maksim admits, sitting on the bench wearing only his jock strap.

  “Seriously, put that shit away. I’m sick of seeing your monster cock.”

  Maksim smiles, stands, and dances like a damn Chippendale dancer. Tweetie joins in because the two of them are never shy about what’s between their legs. Aiden ignores them, shaking his head.

  I crack my neck, hoping to relieve some of the stress that’s building. I wish I could get that compliment Lena gave me out of my head. She thinks I’m doing a good job with Annabelle when I feel like a failure every damn day.

  Did that Gavin think I’d actually tell him my true feelings when I got that letter? Idiot. I don’t know him, and I’m a damn hoc
key player. There’s no reason for people to think I have a sentimental side, especially my opponents. I get enough shit for being Richie Rich as it is.

  “Where are Saige and Paisley? I have Annabelle in the front row.” I’m hoping they’ll be sitting close by. Those two never miss a home game.

  “They’re with the wives and girlfriends,” Maxsim says.

  Fuck, I forgot about that.

  “Want me to text Paisley and ask her to check in with Lena a few times and make sure Annabelle isn’t chomping on a pretzel or something?” Maxsim finally gets suited up.

  Aiden laughs. “I’d trust Lena with my kid. She looks… motherly.”

  “Motherly? I’m not sure she’d see that as a compliment,” I say.

  Aiden bends down to tie his laces. “You know what I mean. Like a multitasker. Responsible. The fact that she keeps you in line half the time is a good sign.”

  I think about the trouble I’ve given Lena and wonder why she grates on my nerves. But I know the answer, don’t I? I feel like an asshole when I’m a jerk, but I hate how she’s at my father’s beck and call.

  “I guess so, but it still makes me nervous.” I don’t really see the motherly side. Unless motherly means you hide what I’m pretty sure is a bangin’ body under those pants and blouses. I’d love to see Lena in high heels and lingerie. Fuck. I shake my head to get rid of that image.

  “Relax. You need your focus on the game,” Aiden says.

  “I’m gonna take a piss.” Maksim walks by, fully dressed now, to go do his stupid superstition.

  I finish lacing up my skates and stand to put my phone in the locker. I’ve kept it on me in case Lena had any questions she needed answered before the game started. I catch a text message from my mom.

  Mom: Good luck on the game. Thank you as always for taking one for your dad. The press will be good. You’ll see. Love you.

  Always the peacemaker.

  Me: Thanks Mom. It’s done and you’re welcome.

  Mom: <3 Score me one tonight.

  I give her the thumbs-up and tuck my phone in the locker, allowing the music beating in the room to wind its way into my veins, to get me excited. Because if anything, I want to mop the floor with Langley tonight.