Chapter 3

Barrett

Here, have the dream of every woman in Manhattan on a silver platter, I said.

Enjoy your burger, she said.

It was ridiculous, really. But I wasn’t able to get the fucking waitress out of my mind. I slept like shit that night and was tossing and turning the whole time. She was exactly what I needed for the agency. She was beautiful in a way that didn’t scream “just another fake model,” with a wit that I was sure the camera would pick up on.

She was everything I didn’t know I needed. So much so that I made her a starting offer that rivaled what some of my best girls got paid. My phone should’ve been blowing up with calls from her but there wasn’t so much as a peep.

The waitress, whose name I could kick myself in the balls for not having gotten, still hadn’t called me. My gut was telling me that she wasn’t going to, and my gut was seldom wrong.

Instead of putting me off, her silence was only making her more tantalizing. The memory of those ice-blue eyes and the feel of her ass on my lap was enough to make me harder than the concrete surrounding the pool that I was looking out at. But I wasn’t going there.

I rolled over on my bed, folding my arms behind my head and staring out of my window as the sun started rising the next morning. The ocean lit up with orange hues beyond my expansive yard.

The commute to the north shore of Long Island, where my house sat in a gated community, was less than fun but once Nancie had come along, I didn’t feel like I had much of a choice.

I couldn’t give my niece her parents back but I could give her every damn other thing she could ever want or need. In this case, a home among the grand estates and magnificent mansions of the moguls and luminaries of New York City.

Ten years ago, when I bought my first property, I’d chosen it based on its proximity to the popular clubs and bars at the time. It had been kitted out to the max, with everything that a twenty-two-year-old bachelor’s heart could desire. What it hadn’t been designed for was the sudden arrival of a ten-year-old girl. But that was exactly what it got.

Once the shock of the accident and the fact that I’d been named the legal guardian to my younger sister’s daughter wore off, my priorities changed. I was suddenly looking at safety and schools and a backyard where Nancie could play, instead of how fast I could get my latest conquest home from a club.

Children had never been part of the plan for my life but life was what happened while I was busy making other plans. My sister, Rebecca, had been on her way home from a movie when her car skidded off the road on that fateful, rainy night. It rolled four times before it came to dead stop when it hit a traffic light.

I’d been drunk as a skunk and in the process of dropping more money in one night than most people made in a month when I received the phone call that would change my life forever and make me the father that I never expected to be. Well, uncle and father figure to the niece I loved but had no idea how to raise.

It was difficult enough when she was a kid who just wanted a pool, a lawn, and a pony. It was fucking impossible now that she was a teenager. The only thing I knew about teenage girls before Nancie was how to make sure they were eighteen before I charmed them into bed. Which was not fucking happening to Nancie on my watch.

She’d been acting out recently, no doubt taking advantage of having a guardian and uncle who was severely distracted by work but I’d set aside some time this weekend to figure out what had been going on with her. There was a time when I knew everything going on in her life. Now, not so much.

With that in mind, it was probably time to go find her. Nancie was an early riser, and even though it was Saturday, she’d probably already been for a swim and had to be around here somewhere.

Padding to the kitchen, I was surprised to find Nancie dirtying up the Caesarstone counters in an attempt at making breakfast. The early morning light was filtering through the windows and glass doors of the open living areas that combined our kitchen, living room, and dining areas. The light hit her hair in a way that shone with my exact shade. The shade I once shared with her mother.

Her mother, who, just like Nancie, only cooked breakfast when she wanted something.

“Good morning, pipsqueak.” I greeted her with the nickname I’d given her when she was still in utero. “What do you want?”

Nancie twirled to face me, pulling earbuds I hadn’t noticed from her ears and giving me a bright smile. “Whatever do you mean, dearest and best uncle?”

I groaned. I wasn’t going to like what was coming. “Other than covering our entire kitchen in flour, I know that there’s a purpose to your surprise attempt at breakfast.”

“Can’t a girl just want to cook breakfast for her favorite uncle?” She smiled, flipping what I think was meant to be a pancake in a pan on the gas stove.

“I’m your only uncle,” I pointed out. “And no, as you keep reminding me, I pay a chef precisely so we don’t have to cook.”

“I wanted Katy to have a break this morning,” she said, a coy smile on her face as she twirled a lock of mahogany hair through her fingers, fixing me with the emerald eyes that she inherited from her father.

“Well, if you’re suddenly in the business of giving people a break from what they get paid to do, I have a ton of stuff you can help me with after school on Monday.”

“Of course.” She smiled sweetly. “You’re so neurotic, though. I’d probably only be there ten minutes before you kicked me out.”

I stuck my tongue out at her, and she laughed, turning back to her blobs of batter. “What gives, Nance? Neurotic or not, I know that you haven’t suddenly become a humanitarian, and I know that Katy wouldn’t have surrendered her kitchen to your particular brand of fire hazard without good reason. Which brings me back to original question. What do you want?”

Nancie pouted and stuck her out bottom lip, even when the corners of her lips were twitching up. “I’m not that much of a fire hazard.”

“And yet, I’m pretty sure those flames are licking higher than they should be,” I told her, inclining my head to where her pan was about to catch on fire.

Nancie yelped and started swatting the pan with a dishtowel. A second later, I was by her side, lifting the pan and shutting down the burner. Raising an eyebrow at her, I motioned for her to sit at the kitchen island.

“You were saying?” I asked.

She exhaled a deep breath, crossing her arms on the stark white island and staring out the window at the ocean for a second, before snapping her eyes back to mine. “I was just trying to do something nice for you.”

“Yeah, why’s that?” I asked, deciding to try my hand at pancakes since Katy clearly wasn’t around, and I was starving. “Let it be known that there was a time that I could cook. Somewhat. Apparently, it’s time to see if I still can.”

“Do I need to have a reason to do something nice for you?” Nancie asked, trying to keep a straight face, but the corners of her mouth were curling up.

“Since it seems that I’ve raised a brat,” I teased. “There absolutely has to be a reason.”

Nancie threw her head back and laughed, then stuck her tongue out at me. “Well, at least you’re taking responsibility for the way I turned out.”

I shrugged, raising my hands in mock surrender. “Couldn’t have done that badly since you’re in one piece and all.”

“That was your only goal? Keeping me in one piece?” She arched a manicured brow. When the hell did she start plucking or waxing or whatever?

“Yup, I was aiming for the stars.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed, giving me a thumbs up. “Well done.”

“Well, it looks like I can make pancakes,” I told her, sliding a plate in front of her. “So, since I’m feeding you now, out with it.”

Nancie’s teeth sank into her bottom lip. She hesitated, then squared her shoulders and looked me right in the eye. “I’m going on a date this afternoon. I want you to meet my boyfriend when he picks me up later.”

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. “Boyfriend? Since when are you dating? You’re too young to date.”

“I’m seventeen,” she scoffed. “Do you honestly expect me to believe you weren’t dating by that age?”

“I believe this is a prime example of the old adage, ‘do as I say, not as I do,’” I answered dryly. “Shouldn’t you still believe boys have cooties or something?”

Another eye roll followed my question. “I’m seventeen here, not seven.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” I told her. “But I’m sticking to my theory.”

“I bet you were a terror by my age.”

She wasn’t wrong, but there was no way I was admitting it.

My eyes widened innocently. “Me? Never. At your age, I was playing computer games and doing my assigned reading every night.”

Nancie howled with laughter, nearly choking on a bite of her pancake. “I’m sure. Was playing computer games code for getting wasted when you were my age?”

I tried and failed to bite back my laugh. “No, I’m not that old.”

“Thought so. In that case, Scott will be here in a couple of hours. Be nice.”

Damn it. I wasn’t ready for her to start dating, never mind meeting the damn guy who would likely be groping my niece before the day was out, if memory of my own teenage years served me correctly. I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Fine, but I hope he’s ready. I’m going to go oil my shotgun real quick.”

She laughed but gave me pointed look. “You don’t have a shotgun.”

“Good point. I’ll just have to go get one real quick then.” I shrugged.

“Don’t you dare,” she said, hopping from her stool and giving me another look. “I’m going to go get ready. Thanks for breakfast.”

“I’ll make you pancakes personally every morning for the next month if you stay home with me instead. Deal?”

She shook her head, flashing me a small smile. “No deal. Your pancakes were good but Scott is great. Just promise me you’ll give him a chance at least?”

“Sorry, sweetheart, you don’t have a deal, either. I do promise not to shoot at first sight.”

“That’s only because you don’t own a gun,” she said, sighing. “But I’ll take it.”

“That’s a situation that can easily remedy itself,” I called to her retreating back as she spun and started walking to her room.

“Not in the next three hours,” she called back, without another look at me.

“I know people who can hook me up!”

Her only answer was tinkling laughter as she ascended the spiral staircase that led to our bedrooms.

So much for my plan of spending some quality time with my niece that day. She spent the rest of the morning getting ready for her afternoon date, leaving me to get back to work.

The doorbell rang way too soon for my liking, indicating the arrival of Scott, the boyfriend. I braced myself, put on my most intimidating scowl, and went to get the door.

“Mr. Hart, it’s nice to meet you, sir,” the gangly boy on my porch said, sticking out his hand.

I shook it firmly but the boy had zero grip. Narrowing my eyes, I gave him a quick once over. His black-rimmed glasses sat askew on his nose, his shaggy blond hair fell to his shoulders and looked like it hadn’t been brushed in days, and his clothes were several sizes too big for him and beyond thready.

“Scott,” I greeted him. I didn’t tell him that it was nice to meet him. I was many things but a liar wasn’t one of them. “Come in.”

He followed me into the tiled entrance hall, seemingly stunned by the cavernous space. Scott shuffled his feet and fidgeted as he glanced at the chandelier hanging overhead. It was clear that the boy didn’t come from money, which didn’t bode well as far as his intentions with my niece were concerned.

“Wait here,” I told him, leading him to the formal living room off the left of the wide wooden front door.

“Sure.” He swallowed.

I took the stairs two at a time to Nancie’s room, knocking once before letting myself in. “Your date’s here.”

“Oh.” She twirled around, eyes wide and excited. “He’s ten minutes early. That’s a good sign, don’t you think?”

I eyed her yellow sundress, the hem hitting way too high on her thighs. “You’re not wearing that.”

Nancie rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “I am.”

“Nope, he’s ten minutes early,” I said. “You have time to change. If you decide to go out with him after all, that is.”

Nancie sighed. “Fine, I’ll change, but I am going out with him.”

“That guy is trouble, Nance. I don’t like him.”

“You’ve met him for all of what, two seconds? What’s not to like about him?” Nancie pouted, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at me.

“You know I have a good read on people. He’s only after your money.”

“You mean your money,” she pointed out. “Why would you even say that?”

“Because I know people like him, trust me. I’ve seen it a hundred times. They look at us, and all they see are dollar signs.” It was a tough lesson to learn, but it was about time she did.

“You don’t know him, Barrett. Not everything is about money.” Nancie’s eyes narrowed and pierced into mine before she spun around and headed to her walk-in closet. I heard her rummaging around and leaned against doorframe to her bedroom.

“Maybe not everything but people in our position get used, Nance. It’s a fact of life.”

“Scott isn’t like that,” she countered, still out of sight in her closet. “Don’t blame him for being jaded by the gold diggers you meet.”

“I’m not jaded, just realistic,” I told her, though I probably was a little bit jaded. All women had wanted from me, for at least the last decade, was a good fuck and my money.

Nancie burst from her closet, now wearing jeans and a tank top. Much better. She glared at me as she stalked by, pissed as hell. “I call bullshit.”

“Hey!” I said. “Language, Nance.”

She scoffed as she headed out of her room, skipping down the stairs. “Have you heard yourself speak recently?”

I followed her downstairs. “Remember when we talked about doing what I say and not what I do?”

“You’re a hypocrite, Barrett,” she said, reaching the entrance hall and calling out for Scott to join her. “Let’s go, babe.”

“Babe?” I repeated. “You’re not going anywhere, young lady.”

“Watch me.” She stared daggers at me.

Scott’s eyes flickered between the two of us, then he shoved his hands in his pockets, mumbled goodbye to me, and made himself scarce.

At least the boy was smart. “I’m just watching out for you, Nance.”

“Yeah? Maybe you should watch out for yourself instead. Find some real people who can prove to you that not everything is about money.” She shot me one last, piercing look, then turned on her heel and followed Scott out the door, slamming it dramatically behind her.

I definitely preferred the pool and pony phase to this.

Jamming my hands into my hair, I fisted it and breathed deeply. I had to focus on something else, otherwise I was liable to go into full-on overprotective mode and trace her phone or spy on them or something.

Work. That was what I needed. If Nancie wasn’t going to spend time with me anyway, then I may as well get back to it. I grabbed my keys from their hook by the wide double doors that led to my garage from the entrance hall and jogged toward my pitch-black, brand new Maclaren.

Driving my new toy like I’d stolen it calmed me down some as I headed to my office, then found myself pulling up outside of Roy’s Diner instead. The faded awning obscured my view of the inside, so I couldn’t see if she was there or not, but the diner itself seemed relatively quiet.

I decided to risk it since there didn’t seem to be any photographers lingering after the sighting the day before. To my dismay, she wasn’t inside when I got there, but I parked my ass in one of the uncomfortable booths anyway.

I could drink a couple of cups of shitty coffee if that was what it took to see the girl who was going to be the face of my company. Whether she knew it yet or not.