by Meg Ripley
The show was just wrapping up, so Cathy sat up and patted the children’s legs. “Okay guys, time to get ready for bed.”
To Jackson’s surprise, they didn’t complain. They got up off the couch and headed toward the stairs. “Hang on just a minute,” Jackson interrupted them. “I’ve got something I’d like to talk to all of you about. We could push bedtime back by just a few minutes, couldn’t we?”
Cathy gave him a look, but it was accompanied by a smile. “I suppose so. If it’s really important.”
“Oh, it is,” he promised. “Come back over here, kids. This involves you, too.”
When everyone was assembled, with Cathy next to him on the couch and the children standing expectantly in front of him, Jackson felt his heart soar. He had been thinking about this for weeks, but it still didn’t seem that it could come soon enough. “First of all, I’ve realized just how much of your lives I’m missing out on by working all the time. I do still have to work, and there’s no way around that, but I’m going to reduce the number of hours I spend at the clubs. I have excellent security men, and I’ll make sure my managers are trained to handle almost any situation. That means I’ll be here for dinner every night.”
The children jumped and cheered, hugging him. “Does that mean you can come to the park with us, too?” Jessica asked.
“Maybe so.”
“Dad, you’ve got to help me with my new Lego set!” Jonathan enthused.
“Okay, I will. But first, there are a few other things we need to discuss.” He pressed his lips together, trying to look serious. “If I’m going to be home more, then it’s likely that I won’t make quite as much money. I have more employees to pay if I’m not there, after all.”
Jessica wrapped her little fingers around his hand. “We don’t care, Daddy.”
“Just listen.” He turned to Cathy. “I brought you here because I needed someone to watch the children, but you’ve done much more than that. They love you, and that means a lot to me. However, I’m afraid I can no longer keep you on.”
“What!” Jonathan balled his fists at his sides, and Jackson thought his eyes were beginning to morph to their reptilian form. “You can’t do that, Dad!”
Cathy sat up straight, looking somewhat alarmed.
But Jackson slid off the couch and got down on one knee in front of Cathy as he pulled a small black velvet box out of his jacket pocket. “Cathy, you came into my life a few months ago and completely turned it upside down. I didn’t always know how to handle that, but I see now just how good you’ve been for me and for the children. They love you, and I love you, too. I don’t want you to be their nanny anymore. Because I want you to be my wife.” He opened the box, revealing the ring that he had so painstakingly picked out for her.
“Oh, Jackson,” Cathy whispered, pressing her hand to her mouth as tears filled her eyes. “Really?”
He took the ring from the box, once again admiring the way the emerald-cut diamond reflected the light in big, bold flashes. With deep blue sapphires on either side of it, he knew it was the perfect ring for her. “The diamond is strong and beautiful, just like you are. I thought the sapphires made it a little more interesting, and life has been nothing but interesting ever since you came along.” He held it out, seeing nothing in the room except those deep mahogany eyes of hers, wanting to look into them for the rest of his life. “Will you marry me, Cathy?”
“Yes. I will, Jackson.” She allowed him to slide the ring onto her finger before she dove off the couch and into his arms. The children piled on top, squealing and celebrating right along with them.
Jackson could barely breathe under the crush of his family, but it didn’t matter. For the first time, they were truly whole, and he had everything he could ever need.
* * *
Blane’s Nanny
Beverly Hills Dragons
Chapter One
BEVERLY HILLS, 1986
Courtney Welsh slipped her sunglasses back on as she stepped out onto the deck, wondering where Blane had gone. The crowd on the yacht was thick and it was hard to find anyone she knew, much less her boss. A bronzed, shirtless guy bumped into her as he goofed off with his friend, barely apologizing before heading off down the deck. Threading her way through string bikini-clad women and men in Hawaiian print shirts, she finally found him leaning on the railing.
Blane Vinson was quickly climbing the ranks in Hollywood, becoming one of the most in-demand actors around. Fans screamed his name when he went out in public, and celebrities clamored for invites to his lavish parties. There on his private yacht, a crowd had built up around him, but he was only paying attention to the blonde at his side. With his Wayfarers slid halfway down his nose and a smile on his face, the woman would surely be the next person to walk down the red carpet with him. Of course, Courtney knew that as soon as fans figured out this new woman’s name and started to speculate on their relationship, Blane would have moved on to someone else.
“Mr. Vinson,” Courtney said as she approached. Most of the partygoers didn’t notice her. In a teal blouse and white high-waisted shorts, she wasn’t exactly the center of attention. But she was working, unlike everyone else there.
Either Blane didn’t hear her, or he was ignoring her, because he carried on schmoozing with the blonde. “Well, I’m glad you like it. This boat was one of the first things I bought after I finished filming Destiny of Hearts. There’s just something so soothing about being out on the ocean, don’t you think?”
The bimbo wiggled her body slightly as she twirled a strand of over-processed hair around her finger. “I couldn’t agree more. Wouldn’t it be nice to just spread your wings and fly out over the water?”
Courtney rolled her eyes. She had a feeling this girl didn’t give a damn where she was, as long as she could say she was with Blane. She sighed and tried again. “Mr. Vinson, I need to speak with you for a minute.”
Finally taking note of her, Blane turned away from the blonde and raised his eyebrows. He lifted his cocktail to his lips. “I’m kind of in the middle of something, Court.”
“I understand, sir, but Cameron has been trying to get a hold of you all afternoon.” She was trying to keep the impatience out of her voice, but she knew she wasn’t controlling it very well. When she had signed on as a personal assistant, the agency had told her what a huge undertaking it would be. The hours were demanding, and so were celebrities. But Courtney had been convinced this was her best chance at getting her feet wet in the entertainment industry, and if she had to work, she might as well do it in the sector she was most interested in.
Blane ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed. “Excuse me,” he said to his guest before moving down the railing a bit. The crowd around him dispersed, seeing that he wasn’t interested in them at the moment. “Courtney, don’t tell me you brought your mobile phone onto the boat.”
“Of course I did,” she replied defensively. “Although the reception here is terrible. How else do you expect me to keep up with all of your business? I’ve scheduled two auditions for you since we left the marina.”
“But the point in being here is to relax,” Blane countered. The breeze off the water rippled the brilliant print of his shirt. “Give me that damn thing so I can throw it overboard.”
Fortunately, Courtney had safely stowed the device in her briefcase in the cabin. “They’re a little expensive to just be turning into ocean trash.”
“Come on.” Blane pursed his lips and shook his head. “You’re no fun.”
“That’s my job,” Courtney reminded him. And though she knew she was getting paid well, she had to wonder how much longer she could tolerate working for him. Blane had never been easy, but it seemed the bigger he became, the more difficult he was to deal with. The fame was getting to his head—which was getting on her nerves. “Now, as I said, Cameron has been trying to get a hold of you, and—”
A blasting sound rolled across the water. Blane and Courtney both turned to see several boats a small di
stance away. Some of them held teens, waving and screaming, while at least one or two others had been chartered by photographers. Long-range zoom camera lenses were pointed their direction.
Blane raised his free hand, waving and smiling. The kids screamed their delight, and Courtney had no doubt the paparazzi were eating it up as well. There would be pictures of Blane and his yacht party plastered all over the tabloids by the end of the week, most likely with made-up headlines next to them.
“You really shouldn’t encourage them,” Courtney muttered, keeping her face turned away from the cameras. She’d never really liked having her picture taken, and she knew these photographers had no problem getting the most mortifying angle on someone just to make a sale.
“Which one?” He waved again, and another shout could be heard across the water.
“Either one. People shouldn’t be able to find you so easily.” Countless times, she’d had to call the police to get rid of fans who had camped in front of his mansion, just hoping to get a glimpse of him. And the crowds that surged around him when he went out were nearly impossible to get through. If he was just a little more reckless, he probably would have shifted and gone for a flight with that girl. It was no secret that Blane, like many other celebrities, was a shifter, but still.
Blane finally turned back to her. “You forget that they made my career. If the tabloids weren’t constantly after me, then I’d probably never have gotten some of the bigger roles I’ve had lately. And it’s the fans who keep it all going. I owe them a lot, and I think they deserve to be thrown a bone once in a while.” He drank down the last of his tequila sunrise, and a member of the staff instantly appeared with an empty tray for him to set it on.
“You do a lot more than throw them bones,” she pointed out. “You’re too accessible, Blane. It could be dangerous.”
“You’re not my bodyguard,” he reminded her with a smile, “although I think sometimes you want to be. I can take care of myself.”
“Trust me, I’m busy enough just being your assistant. Now, can we please talk about your business with Cameron? Just because you’re taking a little time off doesn’t mean the rest of the world is.” Even as she said it, Courtney knew she would never get away with talking to her boss like that if he had been anyone other than Blane. He was spoiled and spent his money frivolously, but he was very laid-back most of the time.
“Fine, let’s get it over with. Tell me what he wants.”
“The schedule has changed on the set. You need to be there tomorrow at eleven instead of one.”
“Is that it?” Blane grabbed another drink from a tray as it passed by. “I don’t even know why you’re consulting me on that.”
She gave him a level look. “Because I know you, Blane. You’re already drinking, and the sun hasn’t even gone down yet. I need to make sure you’ll actually be there before I confirm the time change.”
Blane shrugged. “If he needs me, then I’ll be there. I’ve never let Cameron down before.”
But Courtney had done nothing but worry ever since Blane had agreed to star in Cameron’s next film. It was a romance flick with a bit of action, and she’d even had a chance to look over the script. She had no doubt it would be a good match for him, but she also knew Blane was lazier than usual when he thought he could get away with it. He’d been friends with Cameron for several years, and the last thing Courtney needed was to deal with yet another lawsuit over breach of contract. “Okay, I’ll tell him.”
“Anything else? Do we need to discuss what underwear I’ll be wearing tomorrow, or can I go back to enjoying myself?”
Courtney puffed her cheeks and let out a breath. There was no telling just how big Blane could get if he would actually apply himself instead of acting like an overgrown child. “It’s enough for now, but I do have a few other things I need to go over with you later this evening or tomorrow morning. I want to make sure the appointments I’ve set up will work for you.”
“You should know better than that by now, Courtney. We’ve been working together for, what, two years? You make the schedule and I follow it. So let’s forget about it right now. Jane’s band is getting ready to start up, and I know Damien and Brianna are around here somewhere to see them. Go relax. Have fun. Mingle.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand and headed off across the deck, probably in search of that airhead blonde again.
As Blane had pointed out, the Villainous Ravens were just about to start their set. His sister’s band was talented, and they were rising quickly to stardom. Courtney knew Blane would probably prefer to have Steely Dan playing at his party, but at least he was generous enough to let the Ravens try out their new material in front of his guests before the tracks premiered at the club. No doubt, word would get around that all the celebrities were already big fans of their new album, and it would shoot to the top of the charts on reputation alone. Blane and his friends were powerful people, and Courtney sometimes wondered if he even knew it.
“Hey, Courtney!” called a friendly voice nearby. Brianna. Her husband Damien, who was the director of A&R for Rising Star Records, was at her side; he had signed Jane and the Villainous Ravens onto his label. Brianna was a singing sensation with her own band, the Mixups. The two were one of the biggest power couples in the L.A. area, yet they were more down-to-earth than most bigshots. “You should come sit with us for a bit.”
It was a nice idea, and she appreciated the fact that they wanted to include her, but Courtney didn’t have time. “I’d love to, but it looks like I need to go refill the drinks.”
“I thought you’d hired people to do that,” Damien pointed out, his dark eyes sparkling.
“That’s true.” Courtney spotted one of the waitresses flirting with a Don Johnson lookalike instead of doing her job. “But it looks like they need a little supervision. Maybe later.”
She moved off across the deck to refill the punch bowl and place another case of cold beer into the tray of ice. This wasn’t technically part of her job description, but it was up to her to make sure that everything was taken care of for Blane. If that meant running his parties and ensuring that everyone had a good time, then that was just how it was. But as she stepped into the cabin to look for more napkins, she again wondered how much longer she could last.
Courtney had her own dreams—which most definitely didn’t involve rushing around after Blane like she was his mother. When she’d graduated from high school and started junior college, she decided to pursue a degree in entertainment law. She had always loved watching court dramas and reading about investigations, but she also loved the idea of working with the stars. Even more so, she liked the idea of being the person celebrities went to for advice.
Soon enough, Courtney had realized that continuing with school and getting that law degree wasn’t going to be cheap or easy. The part-time jobs she’d been able to hold down after class weren’t enough to pay her bills, and the chance to work as a celebrity assistant had been one she felt obligated to jump at. It would give her the chance to get hands-on experience working with the rich and famous, and that would only help build her platform for getting clients once she finally had that degree in her hand. It didn’t hurt that the pay was excellent, either.
As she retrieved a bundle of napkins and a supply of straws from a cabinet in the kitchen, Courtney spotted an elderly gentleman sitting in the lounge area of the cabin. He stuck out from the rest of the crowd in his light gray suit and tie, but he’d still managed to attract his own small crowd. She instantly recognized him as Dan Wiseman, Blane’s attorney.
Moving quickly, Courtney dashed back outside to the drinks table, chucked down the napkins and straws, and headed back inside. Blane invited Mr. Wiseman to almost every event that he held. It might have just been because he wanted to surround himself with as many people as possible, or because Blane liked the attention, and almost everyone who got an invite from Blane Vinson showed up. Mr. Wiseman was a much rarer sight, and Courtney felt her heart jump a little at the idea tha
t she might actually get to sit down and talk with him. On a normal basis, she couldn’t really discuss anything more than Blane’s appointments unless she wanted to look unprofessional. This was her chance, and she couldn’t feel too bad about not calling Cameron back or checking on the status of the snack table. Blane had specifically told her to go relax, so she was just following orders.
The cluster of people around the attorney were probably just trying to get free advice from him, and when they heard the band start up, they began filtering out the door to get a better look. Yes, this is it! Courtney had Mr. Wiseman’s phone number, but she’d never call to pick his brain; it seemed rude, and she didn’t want to abuse her connection through Blane. But encountering the man at a party was a completely different situation.
As she approached, she tried to think of what she was going to say. Courtney couldn’t come right out and ask if he’d be willing to mentor her, and she would need that college education to really get anywhere, but maybe he could at least give her a bit of advice. Maybe Blane would let her have a day or two off a week to shadow Mr. Wiseman and see what a day in his life was like.
She cleared her throat, ready to introduce herself in case he’d forgotten who she was. Courtney was involved in almost every aspect of Blane’s life, but she never expected anyone to remember her. Most personal assistants came and went with the seasons, and no one bothered to put names to faces. She would just remind Mr. Wiseman that they’d spoken on the phone on several occasions, and then she would see where it went from there.