Paying Her Dues

But it’s not just the lilacs that makes me crazy. It’s also the scent of her skin, her warmth. Fucking magic.

Once I get my fucking head out of my pants and back to reality, I realize it’s not just a happy conversation between her and her parents down in the parking lot. She’s got her hands on her hips, her violin case sitting at her feet and she’s looking furious.

Her mom is looking stern and angry as well. Her dad, Ben, my oldest buddy, is looking completely unsure how to handle whatever it is that’s going on between the two women in his life.

Like a shot, I’m booking it down the back stairs, out the side door, and around the corner. I try to look nonchalant about it, but I’m laser-focused on her. Because nobody, not even her fucking parents, has the right to make her upset. Not on my watch.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Jess roars. “I’m eighteen! Do I look like I need a nanny when you go out of town?”

And just like that, I’m right up to speed. Ben is standing off to one side, and that’s how I make my approach. Best way to deal with Janet is to flank her. “Everything okay, man?”

He rubs his knuckles into his eyes. “Christ,” he mutters. “I don’t know. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t right now.”

Now Janet puts her hands on her hips and gets right up in Jess’ face. “You most certainly do, young lady! You have no discipline. No willpower. There’s absolutely no way we’d leave you alone for an entire week, unsupervised. If this issue with your father’s tax situation wasn’t urgent, trust me we would not be leaving but with your father’s messy bookkeeping, we could very well land in jail if we don’t take this meeting with the IRS agent and his attorney.” She spits the words toward Ben and I hate her for making my friend feel so inadequate and airing her dirty laundry in front of her own daughter.

Jess spins away, her sandals scratching the gravel. “I am not a child anymore, Mother. I can cook, I can clean, I can feed the cat. I don’t need you to be here micromanaging every little last thing I do and say and eat and think!”

I sniff hard. Obviously, Jess is totally fucking right. But there’s a way to handle this that won’t piss off Janet more than she is already. No reason to upset the dragon ore than she is. “Why doesn’t she stay with Sam and me?” I ask trying to keep the bitter, anger out of my voice.

Janet’s Botox-frozen face turns to me. She blinks a few times, like she’s not quite sure how to react.

I’ve known Janet a long time, and I know she doesn’t like someone having a better plan than she does. But she’s not stupid. And she knows this would be the right answer.

I lean into it, but not too firmly. That’s another thing Janet doesn’t like—men telling her what they think is best.

So I keep my tone even and calm. “I’ll make sure she practices, make sure she gets everything done. You know I’m good for it, Janet.”

Janet’s eyes dart over to Ben, who lifts his hands to say, The man’s got a point.

So I push harder. “You know she’ll be safe at our house. And anyway, isn’t her old nanny like 85 now? That’s a lot of responsibility, Janet. What if she breaks a hip? Then I’d probably be the one to come help anyway. So let’s just make it simpler and have Jess stay with me.”

Now I finally let my eyes slide over to Jess’ face. Her expression has completely changed. She isn’t angry anymore. Now she’s soft, and wide-eyed, and almost smiling. Fuck, yeah. I’d do anything to see that smile.

She holds back a smirk and leans into the game with me. “We wouldn’t want Nanny to break a hip. That’s true.”

The wind picks up and catches her hair. She scoops it up in her hand, and as she adjusts it over her shoulder, the curly ends tickle her cleavage, and her nipples tighten into beautiful little knots under her lace shirt.

For one fucking millisecond, it dawns on me that this might be a very bad idea. Her. With me. Under my roof. Showering in my guest bathroom, using my towels, sitting across from me at every meal. With these fucking feelings sitting between us all the goddamned time.

I’ll have an unrelenting permanent hard-on. For my best friend’s daughter.

But for the moment, I drag my eyes away from her. The most important thing to me is that she’s happy. I’ve got a pitch to sell and I can’t let her sweet ass distract me. “I’ll make sure she checks in with you twice a day.”

“And what about what she eats?”

Here we go. This thing with the food pisses me right off. So much so that I’ve instructed the maintenance guy at the concert hall to make sure all the M&Ms and pretzels magically come out of the vending machine for free from now on. Because if it’s up to me, she’s gonna eat exactly what she wants, exactly when she wants it.

But for the sake of keeping the peace, I play along and lie right to Janet’s face. “I’m eating the Mediterranean diet for the next six months, Janet. So you’ve got nothing to worry about there, either. Tonight I’m having salmon with mixed greens. And I’ll make sure that she has the same.”

Jess isn’t keen on that, and her eyes narrow. But I meet her gaze with a wink. Double cheeseburgers with onion rings then chocolate brownie ice cream for dessert, baby.

Janet huffs and she crosses her arms, like she’s trying to think of some other objection. But finally she sighs and nods. “Alright. Fine. We’ll bring her over after practice tonight. We’ll be gone for probably five days. But if she starts giving you any trouble, Mike…”

I shift my eyes to Jess. She’s looking up at me, with that same sugar and spice she had on her face when she asked if there was something going on between us at the sink. And now, she’s stone cold sober. It’s just her and me and no wine-a-rita haze clouding her judgements.

She wants it.

And so do I.