The Manny

by Piper Rayne

  “How did you know?” He honestly sounds shocked and I hold back a chuckle.

  “I’m a good guesser.”

  “He has friends, too. One can fly and the other can swing from webs.”

  “Does he love pizza?”

  “Yeah.” There’s surprise in his tone once more.

  “Does he live in the sewer?”

  He laughs. “No, he lives with me.”

  “To protect you?” I lean against the railing of the stairway, propping my knees up, trying to reach the small amount of shade the trailer leaves me.

  “Yeah.” His voice shrinks and I’m glad to hear the calm back in his voice.

  “Who are you?” a female voice snaps from the other direction.

  I whip my head around.

  The boy might be calm, but his mom sure as hell isn’t.

  I swear she’s heaving for breath like she’s about to breathe fire and if I concentrated hard I bet I’d hear the echo of her beating heart. Quickly, I stand, running my hands down the length of my slacks.

  “Hey, I’m Vance Rose. I believe you spoke to Jagger Kale?” I shove my hands in my pockets to not reach out and touch her.

  The sun gleams off the highlights in her auburn hair and it looks as if glitter is sprinkling down from the sky and onto her. Now, I’m no poet, nor a romantic on any front, but I can’t deny that this woman is ten times more stunning in person than she is in her movies. Her figure is slender with the perfect ratio of hips to chest and her bright green eyes leave nothing to guesswork—everything she’s feeling is right there on display.

  Immediately, guilt causes my stomach to clench because I was the reason she was sent packing, especially the why of it all.

  I study her face for any form of recognition as to who I am. There’s no way for her to know me by my real name, but I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure.

  She steps past me onto the stairs of the trailer.

  “I heard you had a script?” Her voice is clipped and she barely offers me a passing glance as she opens the trailer door.

  “Yes, the investor loves your work and wants you to sign on.” I move to follow but the door slams in my face.

  What’s with this family?

  “Payne!” she yells.

  “Mommy!”

  I turn the knob and peek my head in. The kid’s now smiling face tells me my chances are good I won’t be risking a concussion a third time.

  “Where’s Mary?” she asks her son while disposing of her bag on the floor. Payne picks up a nearby sword and runs toward me.

  I pick him up under his arms and fly him around the room, effectively dodging his aim.

  “She left,” Payne says when I set him down. He continues trying to stab me with his play sword as I sidestep a couple of jabs.

  “Was that the nanny?” I ask.

  She narrows her eyes at me but doesn’t answer.

  Seriously, this chick’s got an attitude usually earned by the forty-plus crowd of female actors who are past their heyday and can’t find any more good roles to play.

  “Let me guess.” Her gaze moves from me to Payne. “What did you do?” Her hands land on her thin hips, her red lips puckered in the direction of the now innocent-looking little boy.

  “Nothing.” He jams the sword into my stomach and shit, that hurts.

  I bellow and keel over.

  “I’m sorry.” Layla walks over and places her hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “Max will get him next,” Payne says in a deep, mean-sounding voice.

  “Stop it with Max. We talked about the invisible monsters thing.” Her hand moves off me to her son and she pulls him down the short hallway. “I’ll be right back.”

  They’re in the back room but I overhear every word between them—her dictating how he should act and his consistent whining of, “But, Mom…”

  She returns minutes later, minus Payne. Who, I might add, seems like a pain in the ass so it seems he was named appropriately.

  “I’m so sorry.” She sighs and pulls her long, auburn hair into a ponytail and sits down on the thinly cushioned couch beside me. “Did you want something to drink?” Her body shifts forward and is half up off the couch when my hand lands on her thigh to stop her.

  Her eyes narrow on my hand and I quickly retract it, feeling like a creep. “Sorry.”

  She eases back down onto the most uncomfortable couch ever built.

  “I hope you aren’t some sleazy scriptwriter who wants me to practice the sex scenes with him on his casting couch.” She laughs and the sound is almost musical. For some unknown reason my heart sputters over a couple of beats.

  “Nah, just the kissing ones.” I keep my face stone cold and her laughter slowly stops until I smile and shake my head.

  She picks up right where she left off and this time it’s her touching my shoulder. But I don’t shake her off. I like the way it feels. Too much.

  She rises from the couch again and I watch her ass sway as she walks the short distance to the mini-fridge.

  Christ, I’m such an asshole—I’m visualizing her naked. As if I am that guy who’s more interested in getting her spread-eagle on the casting couch than what her talent can add to my film.

  “Water?” she asks over her shoulder.

  I shake my head, admiring the curve of her body in the yoga pants plastered to her skin.

  “Mommy!” The door at the back of the trailer opens and her head whips in that direction.

  Payne stands in the doorway, his lips turned down in a frown.

  “Go back in there, Payne.” She points back in the room and the little boy’s gaze moves to me. “Nope. You’ll get no sympathy from me, young man. Another nanny gone. You need to learn how to behave.”

  Payne’s chest heaves with a breath and he circles around, his shoulders shake and he slowly disappears in the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Layla’s chin drops forward to her chest and she inhales a deep breath before releasing it. But when she looks back up at me her face is masked with confidence.

  “Let’s talk about that script.” She cracks open her water bottle and sits down on the couch again.

  I wait a few seconds before I start in on my pitch. “It’s about a couple on the run. Outlaws.” I toss the script on the seat cushion between us. “You’d be playing Melanie.”

  She picks it up, and I notice her fingernails are perfectly polished in a shade not unlike the color of sand. It must be natural because I bet whatever role she’s in, the audience isn’t too focused in on her hands. Not with all the other assets she’s got going for her.

  “And who would be”—she thumbs through the script for a second—“Joseph?”

  “If I said Ryan Gosling would you take the part?”

  She focuses in on me for an uncomfortable beat before she shakes her head. “No, I like Eva. I’m rooting for them.” She shuts the script and sips her water. Damn. I realize now that she must have wiped her lipstick off when she was in the back with Payne because they’re pink now with a gloss of water over them and totally kissable. To the point of distraction.

  Get your shit together, man.

  I clear my throat. “Rooting for them?”

  “Yeah, you know, because no relationships work in this industry. I think they might have what it takes though.”

  “And what is that?”

  She stands and I follow her, ready to drink a cold water to cool the heat my body is generating in her presence. Opening the fridge, she hands me a water like she knew what I was going after.

  “Thanks.”

  She nods, opening a pantry that barely has anything in it except animal crackers and raisins. I guess Payne must’ve nabbed the last granola bar to use as a weapon.

  “You know, the magic.” She picks up a small box of raisins, holds them up to me in question.

  “No, thanks.”

  She shrugs and opens the box.

  “Magic?”

  She purses her lips and
rolls her eyes. “Men,” she says with a shake of her head. “The magic that keeps a relationship going. You know what L.A. is like… everyone is always screwing around with and then marrying their co-star. Most probably believe they’ve found their one and only. But then the next movie comes along with a hiatus from their loved one and next thing you know there’s the next new, sexy co-star lying in their bed.”

  “I take it you don’t sleep with co-stars?” I sit on the edge of the couch, drinking my water, watching her maneuver around the room, picking up toys and straightening up.

  “Been there, done that, and got two great parting gifts for my troubles.” She glances to the back bedroom. “No need to take any more gambles.” Her nose scrunches up and she shakes her head.

  “So you’ll stay celibate for the rest of your life?” I ask with a chuckle.

  Shit. I can’t believe I said that out loud. Real professional, asshole.

  Lifting her head from digging out a toy out from under the table, she blows a loose strand of hair from her vision.

  “My hand and some electronics do a better job anyway.” She shrugs a shoulder again.

  “You can’t be serious.” My gaze roams over her body. Bad move. My dick was already at half-chub when I first saw her and now it’s approaching full mast. My pants constrict in the crotch area and I shift to try to hide the obvious.

  “Hell, yeah, I’m serious.” Before I can argue, she raises her hand in the air to stop me from speaking. “Don’t. I’ve heard it a million times.”

  “That I’d show you how much better I am than your hand?” I laugh.

  She doesn’t. She raises her eyebrows. “Exactly.”

  I’m helpless to stop my egotistical smirk from emerging. “Fair enough. I’ll leave the details of my nine-inch pleasure pole to myself.”

  Her eyes widen and she instinctively glances at my crotch. When she reaches my eyes again, I raise an eyebrow.

  “Payne, come on out.” Her voice is more constricted than it was moments before, as if she’s speaking around a giant lump in her throat.

  The kid comes out of the room, his arms crossed over his chest and his head down.

  “Thanks for coming by. I’ll make sure to read the script over and get back to you this week.”

  Payne leans against the counter, glancing over at me.

  Shit, I’ve fucked this up. “I was joking,” I assure her.

  She laughs. “I figured. I mean…” She widens her eyes at me.

  “I wasn’t joking about the nine.”

  Her face flushes and her gaze shoots to Payne.

  Shit, the kid. I’m not used to being around innocent ears.

  I hold my fist out to Payne, who blatantly ignores me, so I tuck my hand in the pocket of my pants.

  “Well, that’s information I don’t really need to make a decision about whether or not I’m going to take the role.” Her hands land on my shoulders and she spins me around until I’m facing the door. “Good evening, Mr. Rose.”

  Having no choice, I turn the doorknob. “Hope to hear from you soon, Miss Andrews.” I circle back around. “Nice to meet you and your monster, Payne.”

  He stays mute.

  “Well, then.”

  “He’s just tired.” Layla makes an excuse for him, while she’s practically at my back until I start down the stairs. “Bye.”

  I swivel around to say goodbye, but the trailer door is already shut.

  It seems pretty clear to me that Layla doesn’t think there’s much I can offer her—nine inches or not.

  Chapter 4

  Layla

  The trailer door shuts and I wish I could pour my bottle of water over my head.

  Vance Rose is one hell of a guy. It’s no joke that there’s a good-looking guy on every street corner in L.A. Hell, usually they’re clustered together like they all belong to the same hive or something. But Vance Rose has dimples that make me want to swoon like a schoolgirl, hair I want to push my fingers through and a tall, lean build I’m itching to climb like a tree and wrap my legs around. And I haven’t climbed a tree in a long damn time. Or had wood between my legs in almost as long, but that’s another story.

  “Mom!” Payne screams my name even though I’m right beside him and I snap out of the daydream of what I’d do to Vance if I was a single girl with next to no responsibilities, rather than a soon-to-be-divorced mom of two.

  “I have to call the nanny service, honey. Can you give Mommy some privacy and go back into that room again?”

  “You just told me to come out,” he whines.

  I did. Why was that again?

  God, I think I might be close to losing it.

  Oh, right, with the whole nine-inch comment from Vance I feared I’d prowl over to him on my hands and knees and unzip his fly in order to find out if his dick is as gorgeous as he is. The drought has been a long one and if someone doesn’t water my little patch of grass soon I fear there’ll be no saving it from becoming a wasteland.

  “I forgot I had to make a few calls. Then we’ll go get Via and head home.”

  I ruffle his blond hair and he shakes his head, but listens to me, sulking the whole way back to the bedroom. If only I could figure out why I’m the only one he listens to, that alone would solve a huge part of my problem. At least my childcare one.

  I feel terrible at how much time he has to spend in this small trailer. His dad is off shooting on location—not that it would even matter. It’s not like I can see my soon-to-be ex Carver stepping up in that regard. But Payne should be out riding his bike, playing with his friends, going to the zoo.

  “How about we stop at Toys ‘R’ Us on the way?” I call out as he’s readying to close the door.

  He spins around, his eyes lighting up with happiness.

  Sue me, I bribe my kid.

  “Yay! Thanks, Mom.” He rushes at me, knocking me off balance with the force of his hug.

  Yeah, there’s nothing better than this feeling of love from your child.

  “You’re welcome. Now, just give me a few minutes while I make some calls.”

  He nods and then runs into the room, shutting the door behind him.

  Grabbing my phone from the counter, I dial up the nanny service I’ve been using for almost a year.

  “Miss Andrews,” Constance, the owner, answers and I know it’s not a good sign.

  “Hi, Constance. Mary left Payne in the care of a stranger. A male stranger.” My voice has a bite of anger that’s well deserved, but I attempt to keep it in check because at this point I’m at her mercy.

  “She called. I’m so sorry, Miss Andrews. She’s been terminated from the company.”

  The fight in me dies, since heads have already rolled. I need to focus on a solution to my problem now.

  “That’s good. Constance, I’m in the middle of filming, I need someone for at least three more weeks.”

  Her breath flows out over the phone. “Miss Andrews…”

  “I know. I’ve been through a lot of nannies, but Payne promises to behave himself going forward.” I sit down on the couch, running my thumb over the spine of the script. Very few have come my way for leading roles and those that have, have been abysmal. Normally my agent wouldn’t have even mentioned this one to me since no one has ever heard of Vance Rose before, but Jagger Kale called him and asked if the writer could meet with me directly. If Jagger hadn’t made that phone call our little meeting would never have happened, but he’s not known to attach himself to useless endeavors and so I figured it was worth a few minutes of my time.

  “Miss Andrews, I have no one left.”

  “No one?” I question in disbelief. Surely there’s a recent graduate who needs a job? An empty-nester eager to fill her day?

  “No one. You’ve had every one of my employees. I’m expecting another rush this summer, but in the meantime, I can’t help you out.” Her voice is pained so I think she may feel bad for me, but nonetheless, she could be lying.

  “I’m desperate. I’ll pay
more than the usual.”

  “Miss Andrews, it’s not about payment or the fact that Payne is one of our more… energetic children.”

  She’s sweet, referring to Payne as energetic. He’s basically a modern-day version of Dennis the Menace. If only I could find his Mr. Wilson.

  “We just don’t have the staff right now. I’m sorry.”

  My shoulders sink and I stare at the bedroom door. The best thing to happen to my life is also the worst thing to happen to my career. It’s a horrible truth of working in showbiz and having children with a man who never lets them affect his career.

  “Thanks, Constance. I’ll figure something out, but please put me on the list for the next available nanny.”

  “Of course, Miss Andrews. You’ll be one of the first ones I call.”

  “The first?” I clarify.

  “Yes, Miss Andrews.”

  “I’ll be the first?”

  “Yes, one of. You aren’t my only client.”

  And here I thought this conversation was going semi-okay. I know now that this woman isn’t going to call me back. I’m probably last on the list of firsts.

  “I know, but I may be a tad more desperate.”

  She laughs, and I can’t help but think it sounds empty and uncaring now.

  “I promise, Miss Andrews, your number is on speed dial.”

  For more than just one reason.

  “Thank you, Constance.”

  “Of course, Miss Andrews. Good luck on finding someone and I’ll be in touch.”

  We hang up and my head falls back to the hard cushion of the couch.

  Damn it. Where the hell am I going to find a nanny?

  Toys ‘R’ Us is its usual chaotic scene. Kids are whining in every aisle and every parent looks like they’re on their last sane nerve.

  “Let’s make this quick,” I remind Payne as he skips along the rows, searching out his favorite area.

  We round the corner and he doesn’t pause before heading right for the tented castle. Needing to get off my feet, I plop down on a queen’s chair and allow my hand to hold up my head.

  “I’m the knight.” Payne’s voice wakes me up from my comatose state.

  “Payne.” I shoot him a silent warning, my eyes veering over to the father whose attention is now on the fantasy tent in the middle of the play zone. Usually I can relax for a while before he’s fighting with another kid about whose castle it is.