I so didn’t have it.
Billy Wanks was a temperamental, mercurial pile of shit. And who always had to shovel that shit? The nanny with no backbone, that’s who. We were on the East Coast, in Charlotte, North Carolina. Wanks and Janks were on stage rehearsing. The auditorium was empty, save for roadies and sound technicians. Addy was in the front row, huge headphones positioned over her ears and roach costume securely on. Halloween was still a few weeks away, but Addy had worn the insect getup almost every day since Billy had presented it to her. I had scoured the internet for five hours to find that damn costume, and when it came in the mail Billy had intercepted it and given it to Addy. Damn him.
“I’m sorry,” I said, facing Trent. “What did you say he wants?” No way I could’ve possibly heard him correctly. I hadn’t given too much attention to Billy’s promise of payback. I should’ve. I should’ve been terrified. The demands started twenty-four hours after our trip to the zoo. It had been a magical day, full of sun and cotton candy. Addy even got to feed a giraffe. Whatever good spirits I possessed dwindled rapidly. The requests started small. Trent or one of Billy’s assistants would approach me. Billy wants a cup of coffee, one sugar and a dash of milk. Billy needs his bed made. Billy ran out of his aftershave, can you pick some up?
I did the tasks without thinking, without questioning. It was okay with me that perhaps this was outside the boundaries of my job description. But then again, keeping Addy happy was in my job description and by extension, keeping her father that way too. If he wasn’t happy then no one was, I justified. So I complied. We were, after all, in Billy Wanks’ world.
But then the demands started to become a little more ludicrous. Billy wants lobster for dinner. Maine lobster. We were in Virginia. Billy doesn’t like the furniture in his dressing room. He wants a blue velvet couch like Elvis had; you need to find it and have it delivered in the next two hours. Billy isn’t feeling well, he wants homemade chicken noodle soup and he needs you to feed it to him, he’s too weak to lift his arms. Three months later and here we were.
Trent sighed and gave me a pitying look. “He wants you to refill all of Jett’s vanilla pudding cups with mayonnaise.”
I scratched my forehead. I felt a migraine coming on. “Explain it to me again.”Trent shrugged helplessly. “Some joke he wants to play on Jett. He wants you to sneak into their dressing room tonight while they’re performing and refill all of Jett’s vanilla pudding cups with mayo. He wanted me to tell to you to make sure to be careful when you replace the foil so it’s not wrinkled. Apparently, he’s tried this before and Jett noticed.”
“God forbid.”
“He also wants you to play around with dyeing the mayo to try to match the exact shade of the vanilla pudding.”
My shoulders slumped. “What did I do to deserve this?” I didn’t need to ask. I knew exactly what I had done. I’d stood up to him, had the audacity to point out that smoking was bad for his child, then tricked him into a fun-filled day at the zoo. Everyone thought there was one child on this tour, Addy. But there were two. Her father had all the charm and maturity of two-year-old stuck in an epic temper tantrum.
“Sorry, Daisy.” Trent patted my shoulder with a meaty paw. The head of security and I had grown closer over the past six months. “I don’t know what you did to piss him off, but he seems dead set on making your life hell. Usually he forces interns or assistants to do this kind of shit. I got you some mayo and put it in your trailer, along with the food dye. I’d do it for you, but he was adamant you do it or—”
“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “Or I’m fired.” Billy threatened my employment daily to keep me in line. I felt my back pocket, the outline of my cell phone under the denim. Since Billy’s outlandish behavior started, I’d been applying double time to jobs. My inbox stayed empty and my phone remained silent. Another year and I’d have collected enough money to quit. A year. It sounded so, so long.
I swallowed. I should’ve taken the nanny job with the stick-up-her-ass mom and wandering-hands dad.
I stuck two fingers in my mouth and whistled. Despite the earphones, Addy perked up. I’d trained her to listen for the high-pitched signal. She waved and I motioned for her to come to me. We had some pudding cups to fill. We exited the auditorium to Wanks and Janks practicing one of their hit songs, Blue Dream. Addy was in front of me, so she didn’t see as I extended both middle fingers up and held them high, flashing the band and their cranky lead singer a big “fuck you.” The music screeched to a stop.
Laughter, I’m assuming from Jett, Chord and Turner, reached my ears. Billy’s antics had been amusing them for months. “I saw that, flower.” Billy spoke into the microphone, voice echoing through the empty auditorium. I thought the dark hallway would conceal my little fuck you. Whoops. I had these little flare-ups often. Billy egged me on, and I became less mature. It was all his fault. The more I fought back, the more Billy seemed encouraged. What is the advice parents often give their children? Oh, that’s right. Just ignore him or her. Unfortunately, I hadn’t done that in grade school. And I wasn’t going to start now.
“He’s going to murder you for this.” I startled at the voice. It was late, well, late to me. Nine-thirty p.m., to be exact. I peeked over my shoulder. Jett stood at the threshold of the bathroom, big shoulder propped against the frame.
“It’ll be worth it,” I replied.
The band was staying at a hotel. Thank god. I didn’t realize how much I loved real beds and wide showers since having to live on a bus. The concert would be tomorrow night. The band had gone off to a club. Addy and I were staying in a three-bedroom suite with Billy. Which I’d objected to. But Billy had insisted. What if I need something in the middle of the night? he’d said. Plus I want to be close to my daughter. Are you trying to deny me my parental rights? I had so many responses to that. Most began with F and ended with U. I’d zipped my lips. Then after spending two and half hours refilling pudding cups with mayo, I decided to make the shared living situation work for me and against Billy.
Jett made a humming noise but didn’t move. I sighed and went back to my task. My hands were covered in latex gloves and I shook a bottle that smelled like burnt hair. I’d taken Addy to the local mall tonight. We’d eaten at the food court then raided a Hot Topic for dye. I couldn’t decide between red or blue, so I bought both. Then I waited until Addy fell asleep. I unscrewed the cap of Billy’s shampoo. Earlier, I’d unpacked it for him. Another thing he bid me to do. Notes of cedar and pine wafted up.
“You know how much he loves his hair,” Jett murmured.
Ugh. I regretted letting the lead singer into the suite. The Wi-Fi in his room wasn’t working, and he wanted to Facetime his mother before going out. So sweet. Why couldn’t Jett have a daughter in need of a nanny?
When I’d emerged from my room, Hot Topic bag in hand, he’d followed me to Billy’s en-suite bathroom, then silently watched as I went about my revenge business.
“Don’t you need to go meet up with the band?” I asked over my shoulder.
“I don’t think so, flower.” Another annoying thing: the entire band and road crew had adopted Billy’s nickname for me. Jett continued, “This is way more entertaining. Plus Billy invited Svetlana.” Jett mock shivered. “That girl is clingy, gives me the creeps.” Svetlana, if you couldn’t guess by the name, was a model. A tall, willowy, beautiful Victoria’s Secret model, and Billy’s current flame. She’d lasted a whole two weeks. A record for Billy. I hated her. Even though she was nice. I mostly disliked her because she had all the assets I lacked. I could do a thousand sit-ups every night and my stomach would still be soft and dimpled, squishy.
“Blue or red?” I asked, holding up the bottles of dye.
“He might really fire you this time.”
“How’s he going to know it’s me? I’ll tell him the salon must have made a mistake.” Billy’s shampoo came specially mixed from an L.A.-based salon. I narrowed my eyes at the curly-haired lead guitarist. A tattoo of a snake wound around his neck. “Unless you’re going to rat on me.”
Jett held up his hands and smiled. “I’m no rat, plus I don’t want you as an enemy. God knows what you’d do to my hair.” He had dimples. I bet we’d make pretty babies. God, why was I even thinking that? I knew why: it’d been almost a year since my last hookup, and I was hornier than a goat. I needed to get laid, and it was a problem I intended to rectify soon. Guess who’d found a virginity-stealing Navy SEAL on Facebook? This girl. Colin was on leave for the next two weeks, and come hell or high water I was going to Florida for some much-needed R.R.S—rest, relaxation and sex. I should copyright that shit.
I grinned at him over my shoulder. “I don’t think your hair would take dye well. It’s too dark. I’d do something different, think scissors and glue. Now, red or blue?”
Jett considered it. “Red. Definitely red. It’ll match the color of your ass once Billy gets a hold of it.”