Jane Harvey-Berrick Guarding the Billionaire

by Harvey-Berrick, Jane

  I saw a small square box under the tree this morning and the tag had my name on it. Rachel caught me shaking it, so I couldn’t continue my investigation, but I think I can guess.

  I don’t say anything about her gift because I tucked it in her purse when she wasn’t looking. Stealthy. I know she’s angling to find out if I got her something. I did. When Anderson was shopping for his sister, I saw a sapphire pendant that matches the color of Rachel’s eyes. It has tiny diamonds around it in a halo and was set in white gold. Cost me $800 bucks. It’s a lot of money, and I don’t doubt for a second that Rachel is worth it, putting up with my grouchy ass.

  Anderson saw me buy it but didn’t say a word. I like that in a client. Because some of the assholes I’ve worked for would have a problem with the hired help shopping in the same store. Not exclusive enough for them. Some rich bastards have the stores come to them.

  Rachel sighs and rests her head against my chest, and there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.

  “Enjoy your day with Lilly.”

  “I intend to.”

  “Have you decided where you’re taking her yet?”

  “Got a few things planned.”

  “Of course you do. The man with the plan.”

  “Not always. You weren’t planned and neither was Lilly, but you’re the two best things I’ve ever done.”

  She blushes and gives me a sweet smile.

  “You are so getting thanked for that when I get back,” she whispers.

  Yeah, I still got game.

  In the underground garage, I reluctantly help my woman into her compact, then take the Rover and follow her out into the city traffic.

  A quick wave, and she’s gone.

  When I park in the driveway of Carla’s house, Lilly comes racing out of the door, climbing me like a jungle gym.

  “Daddy! Daddy! This is the best Christmas present ev-er!”

  I hug her tightly, breathing in her special little girl scent that is part sugar, part spice and all Lilly.

  “You’re my best present ever, too,” I say, letting her down gently and tickling her to make her giggle.

  She pats my cheek with her hand.

  “No prickles, Daddy?”

  “Not today, Buttercup.”

  I glance up and see Carla watching us, her expression frozen between disapproval of me and love for Lilly.

  I know she loves our daughter.

  I also know that she loathes me.

  “Carla.”

  “Justin.”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  “Have Lilly home by 6PM.”

  “Seven. That’s what we agreed.”

  “It’s past her bedtime.”

  Lilly breaks into the Axis talks.

  “Pleeeeease, Mommy! Pleeeease!”

  Carla’s lips twitch.

  “Six-thirty.”

  I nod, but I’m planning on being late. I’m not missing out on a single second of Lilly-time.

  I strap her into the booster-seat and head back to the city. I’m kind of regretting letting Lilly choose the music we listen to, but at least now I know all the lyrics to every song from Frozen. That could come in handy if I ever need to torture someone for information.

  First stop is the Botanical Garden Holiday Train Show. Kids are screaming with excitement, and the noise knifes through my skull like an ice pick. I look as tortured as every other adult here, and even Santa has a glazed look on his face, but at least he’s planned ahead and is wearing earplugs. Lilly loves it and that’s all that matters.

  Next stop is Macy’s, and Lilly’s eyes widen. The windows are decked out as a snow scene with reindeer snoozing in a stable, and one with a red nose is munching on hay. The animatronics are amazing, but the awe on Lilly’s face is even better.

  She turns to me, cupping her hands as she whispers.

  “Daddy! It’s Santa’s reindeer.”

  “I know, Princess.”

  “They’re sleeping.”

  “Yep, so you have to be real quiet.”

  “I wrote a really long Christmas list,” she whispers back, cupping her hand over her mouth again, eyeing the reindeer.

  I already know that. Her mom showed it to me, expecting me to fork out for everything. I got most of the shit on the list. Thank God for online shopping.

  “They have to deliver all my presents, and presents for other children, don’t they?”

  Lilly puts her tiny fists on her hips, looking a scary amount like her mother.

  “They shouldn’t be sleeping! Those naughty reindeers should be at work!”

  I can’t help laughing.

  “It’s okay, Buttercup. They’re magic reindeer. They got time to sleep, chow down, then they’ll be going to work.”

  She doesn’t look convinced.

  We go inside the store and she soon forgets about the naughty reindeer. I spend an indecent amount of money on everything that she wants. I know it’s the typical behavior of every absent parent, but I can’t find it in me to care, not when it makes my daughter smile like this.

  Last stop of the day is the ice rink at Bryant Park winter village. I’m exhausted. We’ve done a ton of stuff on a really busy holiday, but Princess Lilly is still going strong.

  I breathe out slowly, enjoying the cool crisp air and the feeling of space after the crazy busy stores. I love this place, plus it’s got one of the best views of downtown at night. The Christmas lights are something else.

  Lilly is excited because she’s never been skating. Something else for me to feel guilty about. Life of a parent, I guess.

  The assistant has to help me strap on those tiny little ice skates. It makes me sad, because none of the mothers around me are having any trouble stuffing tiny feet into skates. I just haven’t had any practice.

  Finally, we’re ready to head onto the ice.

  I skated a lot growing up. There are a ton of ponds and lakes that used to ice over every winter and we all had skates.

  At first, Lilly looks like that Disney rabbit Thumper, chubby little legs going every which way, refusing to let go of my hand. But soon she gets the hang of standing up and I pull her around the rink, going faster and faster until she shrieks with excitement.

  I’m with my daughter on Christmas Eve and it’s fuckin’ amazing. It’s as special as I’d ever dreamed, and when snow starts to drift down, my heart hurts, but in a good way, as I watch Lilly try to catch the snowflakes, smiling when they land on her long lashes or in her hair.

  Her cheeks are pink from the cold and her eyes are sparkling with happiness. It’s the best damn feeling. I want to show her the world and protect her from it, or die trying.

  But when I’m outside, I never entirely shut off and I’m aware of my surroundings. I’m keeping an eye on the crowd around the rink as well as the other skaters. So that’s why I notice her.

  Rachel stares at me in surprise, then smiles hugely and gives a small wave. She’s holding a cup of coffee, surrounded by shopping bags.

  I hadn’t planned for this to happen, but I’m not going to let the opportunity pass either. I want her to meet Lilly. I know it’s early in our relationship and all that shit, but when something is right, you gotta go with it.

  “Hey, Princess, do you want to come and meet my friend? She’s sitting right over there.”

  Lilly looks uncertain, staring up at me with big brown eyes.

  “Okay, I guess. Which one is she?”

  “The pretty lady with the red coat.”

  “Is she your girlfriend?”

  Yeah, shoulda seen that question coming.

  “Her name is Rachel.”

  We skate over and I pick up Lilly in my arms.

  Rachel looks surprised and worried at the same time, which kills me, but she pastes on a smile.

  “Hello, Justin! This must be the beautiful Princess Lilly. I’ve heard a lot about you, Your Highness.”

  Lilly giggles and pushes her face into my coat, peeking out at Rachel, then giggling a
gain.

  “Hey, Rachel! This is a nice surprise.”

  “Is it okay?” she asks in a low voice.

  But then Lilly turns to look at her.

  “Are you Daddy’s girlfriend?”

  Rachel’s mouth drops open, unsure what to say.

  “Yep, she sure is,” I answer for her.

  “Okay,” says Lilly. “Can we have hot chocolate?”

  “You can have anything you want, Buttercup.”

  Rachel offers to get in line for the drinks while I take Lilly so we can change back into our shoes. And no, it’s not any easier trying to push her baby feet into snow boots than it was into ice skates.

  The assistant gives me a pitying look before she steps in to help for a second time.

  When we’re ready, Rachel is standing with our drinks looking anxious again.

  “I’d better get going,” she says, glancing at Lilly.

  “Stay and finish your drink, bab— Rachel.”

  For a moment we sit in silence, Lilly spooning cream and marshmallows into her mouth, smearing a milky-chocolatey mustache onto her face. I do the same and she giggles.

  “You’re so silly, Daddy!”

  Then Rachel starts laughing, and it’s the most amazing feeling. I try to think of the word. Golden. Yeah, that’s it. Christmas Eve with my two best girls is golden.

  Chapter 19

  Fatal Attraction

  IT’S A NEW year, but not much has changed at Wolf Point.

  Carla isn’t happy that Lilly met Rachel, but I pointed out that she’d been having boyfriends at the house since before we were divorced. That shut her up for all of three seconds, so I walked away, leaving her storming behind me and threatening all kinds of shit.

  I shrug it off, knowing that my lawyer has bigger balls than hers.

  Anderson is working eighteen hour days on some deal with a Japanese tech company. He’s wound up tighter than a two dollar watch, especially when Pam finds a flaw in the contract. One of the lawyers is about to get his ass kicked. I’m sure somewhere in the Universe that’s evening up the score.

  Instead, we go to the Farm where there are some newbies to break in. I wonder about that. Does he have a waiting list, or is there some sort of website where they all get together and discuss their favorite kinks? Satisfaction guaranteed or your money back (free butt plug included).

  Van Sant is obsequious, ass-kissing like his life depends on it, which it probably does. Landon is there, too, watching the action. The boss fucks a lot of different guys and a couple of women. I’m guessing that part since he left the room with them clothed and returned naked as a jaybird—but none of it seems to satisfy him. He doesn’t sleep much either, haunting the Farm as much as he does Wolf Point when we’re there.

  Landon is everywhere Anderson is, jacking off to the boss’s sex games. I never see Landon engage with anyone else—just the one time with the guy who looked like Anderson’s younger twin brother.

  Naturally, the boss is in a foul mood and taking it out on everyone at work. Not at Wolf Point, because I won’t stand for that shit and I think he knows it. But I do take the opportunity to share my professional concerns with Rachel, who’s doing her domestic goddess thing in the kitchen.

  “He needs to get the crap beat out of him.”

  “Justin!”

  She pretends to be shocked, but I just raise an eyebrow and kick back on a kitchen chair.

  “Preferably by a guy who doesn’t have a one-way ticket on the Disoriented Express.”

  “That’s not nice, Justin.”

  I roll my eyes at Rachel, but I can’t help smiling.

  “His only friend is a creepy fucking psycho who doesn’t have his boots laced all the way up.”

  She sighs, and I reach up to pull her onto my lap so I can nuzzle her neck.

  “Justin! I’m trying to cook here! My hands are all floury!”

  She laughs and swats my hands away.

  “I like you floury. It’s … homey.”

  “Homey! Hmm, I’m not sure I like being ‘homey’. And it’s not what you said last night!”

  “True. Last night you were hot, but right now you’re floury, it’s homey. I like it. And I still say the boss needs to get laid by a professional, not the S&M wannabes who come to the Farm.”

  It’s true: they all think they’re hardcore until the boss gets his whips out. Even that Republican Senator couldn’t take it in the end.

  Rachel shakes her head but I don’t think she’s disagreeing with me.

  “I’m just saying, he’d be a much happier guy if he was well fucked.”

  Rachel pushes herself up, leaving white handprints on my shoulders.

  “Well, I think you’re wrong: sex by itself doesn’t make people happy.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure there’s a reason I’m such a happy guy.”

  “I’m serious! The meditation doesn’t make him happy, does it? It’s a distraction or a punishment—that’s all. You said the same about the men he meets at the Farm.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think he’s going to change, Rachel. I’ve known him for a while now and you’ve know him the best part of a year—it’s just the same shit, different day.”

  Rachel frowns. She doesn’t like me swearing. I try and keep it to a minimum when she’s within earshot, but old habits die hard.

  I did try to tell her once that some eggheads did a study proving people who refrain from swearing are more likely to be devious and dishonest. And if you don’t believe me, enjoy a happy half-hour reading Social Psychological and Personality Science, January issue. Science fuckin’ rocks!

  I tried to give up swearing for a while just to prove I could.

  Well, Rachel bet me fifty bucks and a blowjob that I couldn’t go a day without swearing. I don’t care about the fifty bucks.

  Game on.

  I managed most of the day. The morning.

  Part of the morning.

  Unfortunately, she overheard me having a telephone conversation with Dennis the Dickwad door security after he’d let paps get into the lobby of DMA Tower twice in one day.

  “Listen, you fu— fungus! They’ll say anything to get in. A woman wearing a skirt and high heels is not there to check the plumbing, you twatwaffle!”

  And I slam the phone down to find Rachel glaring at me.

  “That’s a swearword, Justin.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  She takes a deep breath.

  “Twatwaffle is a swearword, Justin.”

  God, I love it when she talks dirty.

  “Can I say douchenozzle?”

  “No.”

  “Dick?”

  “No, no, no.”

  “Oh. Do I still get my blow job.”

  “Maybe.”

  Good times, but then I remember we’re supposed to be having a conversation about the boss’s subs and fuck buddies.

  “He won’t be happy until he changes,” she sighs. “I wish he’d realize that.”

  “Maybe you should be his therapist. Is Dr. Smith on call?”

  “Very funny, Justin, you should be a comedian. Oh … I forgot, you are.”

  She swats me with a towel. I’m not taking that from any woman, so I pin her against the sink and give her a damn good kissing so she knows her place. But, as always, she’s the one with the power and I’m helpless in her hands, my body pushing against her, wanting, needing her.

  Eventually she pulls away from me.

  “You are a bad influence, Justin Trainer!” she snorts, her rapid breathing matching mine.

  “You know it! And while I’m influencing you, have you thought any more about my offer?”

  There’s a long pause, but she doesn’t reply.

  “Good God, woman! Are you rolling your eyes at me again?”

  “Yes!”

  “Is that ‘yes’ you’re rolling your eyes, or ‘yes’ you’ve thought about my offer, or�
��” and I can hardly dare ask, “…or are you saying ‘yes’ you’ll marry me?”

  She sighs, and that tells me the answer is still ‘no’.

  I asked her on New Year’s Eve. At first, she thought I wasn’t serious. But I was then and I am now.

  I did a lot of thinking over Christmas. I had a lot of time to myself. Anderson was with his family and drove himself, so I was at the house with one of Rachel’s microwave meals, a bottle of craft beer, and a box of Reese’s Pieces—my present from Lilly. She chose it herself. They’re her favorite.

  So there I was, watching a recorded boxing match, feet up on the coffee table, beer in one hand. It ought to be perfect, but there’s an aching emptiness inside me. And because I’m a smart guy, it doesn’t take me long to figure out I’m missing Rachel.

  I call her up and hear the smile in her voice as she answers.

  “Hey, baby. Merry Christmas. You having a good time.”

  “Merry Christmas, Justin. Well, it’s lovely but…”

  “Missing me?” I ask hopefully.

  “Terribly. Horribly! And I only saw you yesterday.”

  “I’m addicting.”

  “Yes, you are. So I’m coming home tonight. Allison thinks I’m nuts—Bill says hi and thanks for the tequila.”

  She whispers the last part, but all I hear is ‘coming home’.

  “Rachel, honey, that’s awesome, best Christmas present ever. Even better than the awesome watch you got me, but are you sure? It’s your family…”

  “I’ve never been more sure, although I won’t be back till late.”

  “I’ll wait up for you, baby.”

  “And I’m wearing your pendant. It’s stunning. You shouldn’t have spent so much on me.”

  “Yeah, I should. Just drive safely and get that beautiful ass home.”

  And she did. It was perfect. And that’s what got me thinking. I know I said I’d never marry again on pain of death, but the thought of living without Rachel is worse. I don’t know when it crept up on me exactly, but I liked her from the moment I met her. Liked her and respected her, thought she was pretty damn hot, too, and somewhere down the line, that changed to love. Quicker than I’d admit to, quicker than I realized, but I never said I was the sharpest pencil in the box.

  So once the idea had excited my lonely brain cell, I was determined to execute my plan: bottle of chilled champagne, crystal champagne flutes, my best suit, wearing the wristwatch that she gave me…