The room on the other side of the door sounded like a child was being murdered inside. Scratch that. Not murdered. The torturous screams were based in laughter. Someone was tickling a child to death. I glanced down on the slip of paper Rat Face had given me.
Chateau Marmont
Penthouse A
10:30 a.m.
Rat Face had refused to give me the name of his client. After some strange questions regarding alcoholism in my family, my favorite bands, and my thoughts on corporal punishment, Rat Face had scribbled down the name of a hotel and a time. “He’s only in town for two nights before leaving on tour. If he likes you, you’ll be required to travel with him and nanny his daughter. She’s eight. Life on the road can be difficult. It’s a twenty-four-hour position. You sure you’re up for this? His last three nannies have checked into mental hospitals.”
I’d laughed at that. Rat Face hadn’t. He’d handed me the slip of paper and muttered a good luck that sounded more like a prayer.
Tentatively, I rapped once on the door. The room fell silent. A full minute ticked by. I raised my hand to knock again, the door swung open. A smiling little girl stood at the threshold; her front two teeth were missing. I barely kept my jaw from dropping. She was dressed in a sequin top, rainbow tutu, and torn fishnets. Where in the world had someone found fishnets for an eight-year-old girl? I swallowed, gathering my wits. “That’s a lovely outfit you have on.”
The little girl beamed. “I picked it out and put it on myself.” Oh, that’s probably why the shirt was on backwards. And inside out. “Billy says it’s fantastic and what the inside of my heart looks like.”
“Your heart must be a million different colors then,” I said. “Who’s Billy?”
“I’m Billy,” a man with a British accent spoke, stepping behind her. My gaze traveled the length of his body starting at his bare feet. Up my eyes roamed—frayed, well-worn, jeans, a thin T-shirt, muscled, thick-veined and tattooed arms, broad shoulders and finally, the face. All the breath left my body. My god. Green eyes. White-blond hair with dark roots that stood up on end. Chiseled cheekbones and jaw with just the right amount of scruff. And full lips that frowned down at me. The man was tall. Everest tall.
I felt a flush creep across my cheeks. A redhead with pale skin, I never could hide embarrassment, or in this case, desire. Billy put a hand to the little girl’s shoulder. He had strong, blunt fingers. What would they feel like on my skin? “And this is my little bird, Addy.” Billy smiled down at the girl like she was sunshine and unicorns and lollipops, the way I wished my father would look at me. I’d never failed to disappoint Colonel Clemmens.
I stuck out a hand. “I’m Daisy.”
Green eyes bore into mine. “Steven sent you?”
My hand dropped back down to my side, untouched. I chewed my lip. Steven? Oh, right. Steven was Rat Face’s real name. “Yes.”
Blond brows, a shade darker than his hair, darted in. “We’re going to need to sit down and have a formal interview.”
“Of course. I assure you my qualifications—”
“Little bird.” Billy crouched down next to his daughter, hands gripping her small shoulders. I noticed his nails were painted a bright fuchsia. Addy’s toenails, peeking through the ripped fishnets, were the same color. Had this man given his daughter a pedicure, then allowed her to paint his nails as well? “Go find Trent. Earlier I saw him stuffing his pockets full of candy. He’s going to play shy and tell you he doesn’t have any. Don’t let him get away with it. Use your teeth if you have to.”
Addy bared her teeth and shook her head, doing a very good impression of a rabid dog. She skirted past me and her tiny fists were banging on the next door. The door cracked opened and a very large, very bald man with two gold front teeth answered. “Why Addison Wanks! What are you doing beating down my door?” The man, Trent I assumed, had a similar accent to Billy’s, only his was rougher, less refined—more cockney than British aristocrat.
Addy growled and leapt onto Trent’s legs. “I’m a pirate! Give me all your candy or die.”
Trent dramatically clutched his chest, eyes widening. “Oh no, not the dreaded Pirate Wanks.” They fell into the room, Addy giggling and shrieking.
“Come on in, carrots.” Billy drew my attention. He stepped aside, motioning for me to enter the suite.
I chewed my lip, resisted the urge to study a lock of my hair. It wasn’t that orange, was it? “My name is Daisy.”
Billy’s lip turned up. “All right, flower.” Tattoos ringed his neck, black sparrows in flight.
Flower. I shouldn’t like the nickname, or the way he said it—with a sexy lilt—so much. I settled on a white sofa and shuffled through my bag, fishing out a resume. I held the paper out to him. “As you can see, I’ve just finished my master’s in education …” I mumbled off some more facts as Billy plucked the paper from me. He frowned down at it for a second, then let it drop to the floor. What a dick move. I’d spent twelve extra dollars on linen resume paper. Twelve dollars I didn’t have. All so I could impress fancy clients like him. Even though I had no clue who he was. Rat Face had assured me I’d recognize this guy, but my mind had drawn a total blank. Billy Wanks? The name meant nothing to me. Nada. Zip.
Billy shimmied a phone from his jeans. He pressed a button and spoke into the receiver. “Jett?” Pause. “Yeah, the new nanny just arrived.” Another pause, Billy perused me from my toes to my head. “We’re going to need the full treatment.” The call disconnected and Billy shoved the phone into his back pocket.
“Mr. Wanks, I’m happy to answer any questions you might have.” I smoothed my hands over my knee-length skirt. I’d opted for a comfortable yet professional look that morning—a grey wool skirt, white collared shirt and grey cardigan.
“Hold onto your knickers, flower. The others should be here soon.”
“Others?”
“My band mates. If you’re going to be touring with us, we all gotta agree. Drink?” His hand swept over a glass cart stuffed full with expensive bottles of liquor and crystal glassware.
“No, thank you. I don’t drink.” Also, it was ten-thirty in the morning.
Billy nodded. “That’s good. I’m sober as well.” Then he proceeded to pour himself two fingers of whiskey and down it in one swallow. Veins in his neck stood out, and the muscles in his back clenched as he gulped. I crossed my legs, clenching my thighs together. Is it wrong to find morning drinking sexy?
“I thought you said you were sober.” My voice sounded dry, husky.
Billy gave me an incredulous look. “I am. I haven’t touched clear liquors or white drugs in years. I’m a parent now, I got responsibilities.”
The door to the suite opened and in filed three equally disheveled looking men. The first had a mane of wild curly hair, tied up in some type of messy man bun. The second had dark tan skin, and light green eyes. And the third, well I couldn’t tell what the third looked like; a red hat rode low on his brow, and a beard as massive as Gandalf the Great’s, but reddish-blondish rather than gray, covered his face and part of his chest. “Flower, this is the band, Jett, Chord and Turner.” He ticked off their names in the order they entered.
Curly hair, Jett, sunk into a chair and tilted his head, eyeing me curiously.
Chord, green eyes, sat in a chair opposite Jett, crossed his arms and promptly began to doze. And Turner joined Billy at the bar cart, pouring himself a glass filled to the rim with vodka. A healthy drink.
“She looks like a nanny,” Jett said, his accent the same as Billy’s.
Turner eyed me, under the shadow of his hat. “Yeah, but so did the others. We’ve been fooled before.” He had the same lilt to his words. So I was dealing with a group of Brits.
“My father did say never to trust a redhead,” Billy remarked.
I gritted my teeth. I may have needed the job, but not at the expense of my self-respect. I’d suffered one too many redhead remarks in my lifetime. “Why? Because we’re slutty and steal your money?”
Billy scoffed. “No, because you’re far too intelligent.”
Well, that took the wind out of my angry sails.
Chord popped one eye opened and smiled groggily. “I like her.”
I wish I could say the same for these guys. Who the hell were they? “Rat, I mean Steven said you guys were going on tour soon. I take it you four are in a band of some sort?”
Jett’s bark of laughter startled me. “Holy shit. She’s got no idea who we are.”
“Should I?” I asked.
Billy glared, seemingly mortally offended. “We’re Wanks and Janks, flower.”
“Oh,” I said, then when that didn’t seem to appease Billy, “Congratulations?”
“I like her even more now,” said Chord, eyes shut again.
Billy’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve never heard of us?”
“Um.” I chewed my lip, shrugged helplessly. “I grew up on classical music.” The Colonel didn’t believe in anything else. My childhood was the movie Footloose come to life. Except instead of a preacher father, I had a military dad. Oh, and we lived in Tampa, Florida, a slightly bigger city. Also, I didn’t lose my virginity to a Kevin Bacon lookalike who could dance. I lost it to a Navy SEAL I’d picked up at a bar using a fake I.D. Ah, memories.
Billy’s glare turned up a notch. I sucked in a breath, quick to cover my faux pas, I said, “I’m sure your music is very good.” A snort from Turner. “But whether I know you or not has no bearing on whether I’m qualified to nanny. Plus you won’t have to worry about me going all fan girl and collapsing in tears of adoration and praise.”
Billy sighed, long and overdrawn. “I happen to like tears of adoration and praise.”
“Tell me, Flower is it?” Jett leaned forward.
“Daisy. My name is Daisy.”
Jett flicked his hand. I guess the distinction didn’t matter. “Flower, how are you with houseplants?”
My brows inched up. “Houseplants?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t really have much of a green thumb.”
“Well, that settles it then,” said Billy with obvious disapproval. “No way she can be little bird’s nanny.” He addressed me. “How do you expect to keep my daughter alive if you can’t even keep a houseplant alive?”
“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?”