Chapter Five
Brent
Brent stared at the door after Jessica scurried out of it. That was the word. Scurry. The word for something soft, small, and vulnerable.
He was such an idiot. He wasn’t even sure how it had all happened. One minute, he’d been walking her to the door, and the next he’d been kissing her. Brent couldn’t even say they’d both done it. She’d been so honest, so candid about her life and her own goals, and something in that sincerity had moved him. It was probably the inevitable result of hanging out so often with studio types or traveling to L.A. The entire town was nothing but superficial and self-involved. It had been refreshing to meet a woman of substance. To meet anyone of substance when he worked in filmmaking.
It didn’t hurt that he loved her deep chocolate-brown eyes and could see himself running his hands through her long, dark waves of hair.
Jessica clearly didn’t know how beautiful she was. How extraordinary.
By extension, Brent was starting to realize how fucked he was and not in the good way. Sighing, he shut the door and tried to keep himself from slamming his head against the wood. A stiff jolt to the brain would be good for him. It might remind him that he had more at stake in all of this than thinking with his dick. First of all, Allen was a good friend, and the last thing he wanted was to jeopardize either his production company or one of the few people out there who truly believed in him. Then, there was his father. The last thing he wanted to give that bastard was the satisfaction of knowing he’d picked up on the chemistry before even Brent had.
Hurrying through the long corridors, Brent made his way to the far wing of the house and knocked on Cara’s door. He’d promised to tuck her in, after all. She was in middle school now, so it didn’t include a story reading or anything like that. However, after LeeAnne died, the tucking itself had become a tradition they’d held fast to. Cara had only been three when her mother had developed a severe case of pneumonia that she couldn’t fight off. Cara had suffered from nightmares for months until Brent started sleeping in a sleeping bag at the foot of her bed. He didn’t go that far anymore, but it helped beat back the nightmares if he came by her room and helped her decompress.
It was the best part of his day – when no matter what other crazy things happened with his damn father or with the business or with her school, he could bond with the girl who meant more to him than the whole world.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course, Daddy,” she said. Her voice was cheerier than he’d heard it in ages.
That hurt. Brent did everything he could to make sure Cara was happy and well-cared-for. Maybe that teacher had been right. Well, not one hundred percent, but Cara had needed someone closer to her age to hang out with, someone who could compensate for the fact that fucking senator’s daughter was such an unholy terror.
“So,” he said, slipping into a chair, “did you have a good day?”
Cara rolled her eyes as most pre-teens tended to do. “Duh!”
“Cara Anne, tone.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry. I just meant that Jessica’s the best. I didn’t have the best day at school.”
“Was it those girls again? The ones who maimed your hair?”
“I can’t say.”
He reached out and patted his daughter’s hand. “I’m going to be meeting soon with the school officials about that.”
“Dad! I didn’t get hurt.”
“But what they did was still assault, and they can’t get away with it. It’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to any girl they’re also treating this way.”
“Dad, it can’t get better. I just have to stay out of her way!” She sighed. “Their way.”
“I know it’s hard.”
Cara shook her head. “You were popular in school. Grandpa said so. You were always captain of every sports team there was. You don’t know how it is. Besides, her dad is very powerful. I don’t want you to get in trouble ‘cause you made a senator mad.”
“And that’s how she’s gotten away with so much for so long, sweetie,” he said, stroking her soft, golden hair so like LeeAnne’s. God, he still missed his late wife. She’d have known how to fix all of this. She always had, even when Cara was so little. “I’m not scared of anything except for you being upset and hurt.”
“I’m not upset though, and it’s just hair.” She pulled back and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I have a great look now. Jessica said so.”
Brent shifted in his chair and tried not to think of his new nanny. Above everything else, the real reason he shouldn’t think about Jessica – no matter how beautiful and honest she could be – was for Cara’s sake. Anyone who could open her up mattered. He absolutely could not mess that up by being a selfish prick.
“And you like her?”
“I thought I was a little old for a nanny, you know?”
“You’re barely eleven!”
“I could still legally take care of myself this summer.”
“I’m not so sure about that one. I’d have to consult my lawyers.”
“But I’m not a little kid.”
“I don’t know about that either,” he said, ruffling her hair again. She could be three, thirteen, or thirty, but she’d always be his little girl. Nothing would change that. “I feel better knowing you have someone who isn’t just Danny or Cecile to keep an eye out for you this summer.”
“I know. And I do like Jessica. I can’t wait to go to the zoo! They have amazing African penguins. I’ve read and read about them.”
“You have?”
Cara nodded and pulled on the threads of her comforter. “I think I want to study birds when I grow up, and penguins have been my favorite since Happy Feet.”
It was suddenly hard for Brent to swallow. How had he missed this? Clearly, his daughter had been deeply into penguins and biology for a long time. He should have been aware. Sure, he’d been working hard, especially in the last five years, to really get his production company off the ground and, okay, in overdrive since they just barely missed out on an Oscar last year. But he knew Cara. Didn’t he?
“You didn’t say anything.”
Her large blue eyes regarded him with something akin to pity. “Daddy, I know you’re really busy. I don’t want to take up your day with too much. It’s okay. Grandpa has taken me to SeaWorld a few times, and I knew we’d go back to the zoo eventually. I haven’t been there in a while, but you’ve got work.”
His stomach turned when he heard about her spending extra time with his father. About her sharing deeper parts of herself with his dad. The old bastard was exactly the type to start manipulating Cara early in life to be the perfect CEO for the telecom company that Brent had no interest in. So far, his father had held off on the mind games with Cara, but Brent wasn’t comfortable with Cara wanting to share secrets more with her grandpa than with him. If there was one thing he knew painfully well, it was that you never shared secrets with Donald Sanderson.
Not without it coming back to bite you hard in the ass.
“I’m never too busy for you, Cara. I know it’s hard, and I know right now the kids at school are being little jerks, frankly. But I don’t care which call I’m on or how hard I’m working on a project, you can always tell me. And, ladybug,” he said, poking her nose like he had when she was a small child. “I can’t wait to go to the zoo with you either.”
“Da-ad!” she sing-songed. “I’m not eight!”
“You’re still my little girl,” he said, standing and tucking the sheets up to her chin. “Honey, get good sleep, all right? And, I promise, I won’t go as far as Grandpa, but I won’t let these girls keep getting away with stuff.”
Cara’s relaxed smile fell, and that crushed him. “Don’t do the meeting, Dad. It might hurt your company. Besides, there’s nothing anyone can do. It’ll just make her meaner when the teachers can’t see and can’t stop her.”
He gritted his teeth and took deep breaths. Anger lanced through him at the thought of the band of little terrors who had made his daughter feel so helpless. So defeated. “We will figure this out, and, until then, we’ll have a great time on Saturday. Promise.”
“With Jessica, of course.” Cara winked at him.
“Yes, sweetie, with her.”
***
The hot jets of the shower were a welcoming splash against his sore, tired skin. He’d been hunched over his desk for hours, going over the latest rewrites on the newest project and approving the budget for the two extra scenes that the director – an auteur but also flighty –insisted be added to Desert Sun. While the director was temperamental, both Brent and Allen knew Desert Sun would be an indie darling and then some if it turned out well. So poring over rewrites it was. All of it on top of the continued harassment of Cara had left him drained.
The warm water sluicing over him was relaxing, made his worn muscles unknot, and yet, it wasn’t enough to help him fully unwind. Closing his eyes, he did the one thing he shouldn’t do: let his hand slip down to caress his cock.
The water pounding over his back gave him strength, gave him the energy needed after a long day and of too much energy expended suppressing hidden desires. His hand slid over his dick, which was already soapy and ready from the lather he’d used on it. Closing his eyes, Brent thought about the one thing he shouldn’t have: Jessica. He focused on the way her dark ringlets of hair fell down her back, on her dark, coffee-brown eyes, and on the pert curves of her breasts. Even though he was alone under the sudsy water, he wasn’t.
Not really.
In his mind’s eye, he could appreciate everything about his newest employee. Damn him if he’d ever had this problem in the past, ever failed to separate business from pleasure. Hell, since LeeAnne died, he hadn’t thought much of women. First, there’d been a nonsensical level of shame, that feeling that he should have stopped the pneumonia.
God, that impotence, that utter desolation that even all the money in the world and the access to the best doctors in the country couldn’t save her. Couldn’t keep his family together. Flagellation and celibacy after. Then, he’d been living for Cara, for her needs. He still should be. The last thing he needed was to lust after his friend and business partner’s daughter, after a woman who was still in college.
But he needed her. He’d seen something kind and fierce, something protective and untouched in Jessica, and Brent craved that like a drug. Taking a deep breath, he increased his rhythm, felt his shaft harden and his balls tighten in his grasp. It had been too damn long, even for masturbation, and his red-hot fantasies of Jessica were pushing him over the edge already. Her hair would fall over her bright eyes just so, and her lips would wrap eagerly around the girth of his cock as she sucked him off. Her rounded breasts would bounce with every eager thrust of her mouth forward over the head.
Heat spread through him, from his cock and up his abdomen. His muscles tensed as tightly as his balls. Dear God, her mouth would feel like heaven, an easy slide into a warm, welcoming embrace. His nerves tingled, and his breath came in great gasps as the climax rushed over him. He shot his seed into the corner of the shower, just below the soap dish, even as pleasure spread over him in waves.
“Fuck yes!”
Clarity snapped back to him like a rubber band, and his cock flopped back against his legs. The water was running cold, and the soapy bubbles were spiraling into the drain. It was all reality again.
And in the real world, he was Brent Sanderson, and the last thing he needed in his life was Jessica Billings – at least as anything more than a nanny.
Jesus was he screwed.