The Doctor's Nanny

by Emerson Rose

  “Liam, dahling.” Kit’s voice comes from behind me, and I feel him reach over my head and shake Liam’s free hand.

  “Kit, how are ya? How’s Devin?” Liam asks.

  Kit releases Liam’s hand and places his hand on my hip. He squeezes, as if he is telling me not to move.

  “Perfect as always—a gorgeous, intricately cut diamond, a rose petal—”

  “Ah, ok, ok, Kit.” Liam laughs. “I get it. You love him.”

  “That I do. So I hear you’ve met my friend, Lourdes?”

  I’m standing here watching these two banter back and forth over my head like a couple of old women when I begin to breathe again and remember that I’m trying to get the hell out of here.

  His eyes fall to mine, and something clicks into place like a key sliding into the right lock. I’m stuck, and less and less of me wants to be unstuck. I like it here in the warm adoration of his eyes. It feels so good, so right . . . until I see a flash of Amira, and the feeling of bliss is swiped clean off the table.

  “I’m leaving. I shouldn’t have come.” I try to move, but Kit has both of his hands on my hips now, and he’s not letting me go. Liam’s eyes fill with confusion. A tiny, adorable crease forms between his eyebrows, but he never breaks the gaze.

  “Why? Wait. No, don’t answer that. Let’s go somewhere quieter so we can talk.”

  I shake my head no, but an influx of people in our area suddenly has me pressed up against his chest. His arm slides protectively around my waist as he yells at the group crowding us.

  I have never felt so at home, in the right place, simpatico or whatever. Being in his arms is unequaled. No place I’ve ever been has felt more comfortable.

  When the crowd eases up a bit, he doesn’t let go right away. Instead, he pulls me closer and leans his head down to speak directly into my ear. God, he’s so close I can feel his heart beating, his warm, minty breath against my skin, and his lips skimming my ear.

  “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

  I nod yes and he releases me. Being without his arms is equally as uncomfortable as it was comfortable. I’ve never felt quite so abandoned with the warmth of his body gone and the noise of the club pulsing through my brain.

  He motions to Kit over my head. Both men are over six feet tall. I feel tiny between them. Before I can protest again, Kit is moving me forward and I’m following Liam. I turn to Kit and scowl. He knows this is wrong. He’s known far longer than I have that Liam is interested in me, not a baby. I’m going to kill him. He is definitely not my best friend anymore.

  Back at the stairs that lead to what I assume is the DJ booth, a muscular guard dressed all in black moves aside to allow Liam to pass. He says something into the guard’s ear, and Kit and I are allowed to follow him.

  As wrong as all of this is, I can’t pry my eyes from Liam’s backside, especially since it’s directly in front of my face as we climb the steps. Why am I still here again? What the hell is wrong with Kit? He knows I’m not this kind of girl, doesn’t he? Maybe not. It’s not like we hang out all the time. I mean, we have a few classes together and we’ve studied together, but we haven’t exactly discussed morals or ethics. He knows I have a son, though, and that I’m a single mother trying to make my way through college. That should say enough.

  When we emerge in the booth, I’m taken aback by the vast view of the huge club. It’s as if Fiction is the kingdom and this booth is King Liam’s throne. Everything that was going on downstairs is magnified one hundred times up here. I can see it all—people drinking, kissing, touching, dancing, and on the far side, there are platforms where people take turns performing light shows with glow sticks on strings and LED hula-hoops.

  I feel Liam’s eyes on me as I stare out over the crowd with my mouth hanging open. Whoever was manning the booth while he was gone has abandoned ship, and Liam has taken command. He is standing in front of an enormous deck of knobs and buttons, with laptops suspended above them all. He has put on headphones, and he’s smiling at me with immense pride. He’s in his element, and he wants to show me what he does. Kit nudges me forward a step so that I’m standing right next to Liam. He should be watching what he’s doing, but he’s looking at me instead. The song’s tempo is rising, adding different layers as it goes. When it’s at a point where you can feel the climax coming, he tears his eyes from mine and begins manipulating the music.

  I watch in awe as he bounces to the beat, mixing the sounds together in a smooth transition that has my heart pounding and the crowd screaming. He lifts his lean, muscular arm in the air and pushes one side of his headphones behind his ear. The people love him, and I can see why: DJ Freedom is mesmerizing.

  Chapter 15

  Liam

  She’s here. That’s good, but she’s with fucking Kit! How the hell do those two know each other? Kit knows everything about me, and from the way she was acting downstairs, he must have told her about Amira and me. If I can keep her mind off the baby situation long enough to convince her I’m a good guy and that I’m not out to get her into bed, it will be a miracle and a lie. I’d love to get her into bed.

  So far, Kit is being cool about this. He just nudged Lourdes next to me in the booth. I can’t keep my eyes off her. She looks stunning, so different from the fresh-faced woman I met earlier this week. This Lourdes is a sex kitten. I’m sure Kit had a lot to do with that. He’s even color coordinated their outfits: pink shirt, pink dress, pink jewelry.

  I can see her out of the corner of my eye bouncing ever so slightly to the beat. She’s cautious and reserved, but she’s happy. The crowd is doing their job, hyping up the energy in the room. Lourdes smiles out over them. A few notice her and wave. She looks at me, and I nod before she waves back. Now she’s loosening up. The music and the crowd are sucking her in. I remove my headphones to place them on her head, and she lifts her hands to cover them when they are in place. Her eyes open wide and a broad smile spreads across her face.

  “Are you having fun?”

  She’s dazed. This is a lot to take in. She moves one of the phones, and I repeat my question. Her face falls as if she’s been caught doing something wrong. She stops swaying, and the smile I’ve been enjoying slips from her lips. I wish I’d never asked. I loved that smile.

  “Liam, I shouldn’t be here.” She tips her head toward Kit in explanation. “I know you and Amira don’t really want a baby.”

  Fucking Kit. Why did he tell her? I’d like to punch him in his pretty face right now. I introduced him to Devin the fucking billionaire, and this is how he repays me?

  “That’s not true. I’ll explain. Just let me finish this set, and we can go someplace quieter.”

  She looks skeptical, but she’s not leaving, so I take that as a win. I turn my head away from her and glare at Kit, who shrugs his shoulders and lifts his hands palms-up. I shake my head back and forth. I’ll be laying into him later for telling her . . . whatever it is he told her. I’m not even sure what the hell I’m going to say to her. I can’t very well tell her the truth. She’d never have a baby for us then, but I’m not good at lying to people I care about, and I think I care about Lourdes.

  Kit pokes my shoulder and speaks into my uncovered ear.

  “What’s your problem, Chachi?”

  He knows I hate it when he calls me that.

  “What did you tell her?” I mouth the words in his direction so Lourdes won’t overhear us, not that she could in this place anyway. The only time you can hear anyone talk is when the music is on the downslide, ready to build back up.

  “Nothin’ but the truth.”

  That’s what I was afraid of. I pull him aside and hold up one finger at Lourdes to let her know I’ll only be a minute. The DJ booth is a huge, crescent-shaped extension over the dance floor. I stay as far away from Lourdes as I can be without letting her out of my sight.

  “Elaborate.”

  “I told her your wife is a bitchy twat that everybody, including you, hates. I told her there was no way you wanted a ba
by with that cow, and most importantly, I told her you were interested in her. I know you, Liam. You haven’t acted on your feelings for a woman since that nasty wifey of yours came on the scene. The fact that you invited her here, into the booth, where you never, ever let women join you . . . well, my gorgeous friend, I do believe you’re smitten.” He smiles and runs his finger along my shoulder.

  “Yeah, well your little bout of honesty might have cost me any chance with her. If you know her, you know she’s a good girl. She won’t touch me as long as she knows I’m married, and now, on top of all that, she doesn’t trust me.”

  “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have lied to the sweet thing then.” Kit’s eyes narrow, and I realize he’s trying to help us both without knowing a big chunk of the story, so I fill him in.

  “Kit, Amira has to have a kid so her father won’t cut her out of his will. I told her I’d go along with it if she would give me a divorce after the baby was born. It has to look like we’re giving our marriage all we have. Her dad has something about Amira’s reputation and failing at her marriage. He’s nuts. Now the old guy went and had a heart attack, so I don’t know what the fuck is going to happen, but I don’t want to scare this girl off, so no more sharing about my life. Got it?”

  He’s smiling a big, obnoxious smile that says he knows something that I don’t.

  “What?”

  “You’s in love, gorgeous. Whew! I never thought I’d see it happen!” He sings, waving his pointer fingers around my face.

  “Stop it, Kit.” I swat his hands away, but he just laughs.

  “I gotchu, big boy. It’s a circus show, but I see why you want me to hush.” He holds his fingers to his lips and turns an imaginary key to lock them shut and throws it over his shoulder.

  I need to get back to the controls and to Lourdes, but when I turn around, she’s gone. She must have slipped out when I was arguing with Kit. I race to where we were just standing and look out over the club. I see her pushing her way across the dance floor. She’s almost to the door. I can’t let her leave. I have to talk to her.

  I’ve never interrupted one of my sets, but this is an emergency. I cut the music and the lights. Everyone gasps and a few people shout. Glow sticks slow, and everyone’s looking around in confusion. Somebody even yells, Who forgot to pay the power bill? I take the mic.

  “Lourdes, do not leave.” The words echo through the quiet club. I see the sparkles on her pink dress shimmer in the emergency floodlights that came on automatically when the power went out. She freezes when she hears me say her name. Then I calm the crowd.

  “It’s cool, guys. Hold on a sec and I’ll get things back on. Just had to make sure someone special didn’t leave yet. You all understand that, right? The night’s young. We can’t quit now!” I yell and pump my fist in the air, and they roar in agreement. They’re my people. They don’t care what I say as long as I’m saying it to them. “Ok, people, let’s get ready to move!” My hype man yells, and I switch the light show back on and ease the music up.

  I’ve had my eye on Lourdes, who is frozen next to a pillar on the far side of the dance floor. Kit saw her too and went down to detain her while I pass off control of the booth to my apprentice.

  When I reach her, I don’t let her speak and I don’t make eye contact. I take her hand and lead her through the bar. Most people step aside and allow us to pass. A few are out of it, though, and I steer her away from them. Why did I think this was a good idea again? Fiction on a Friday night is wild. It’s the weekend, and people are out to have as much fun as possible. I do my best to keep drugs out of the club, but for many, it’s part of the experience. If she had come last night, things would have looked a little more respectable.

  I lead her down a short flight of stairs to my office. Once inside, the sudden quiet is unsettling. I let go of her hand and cross the room to get a bottle of water from the fridge, leaving her standing just inside the door, wide-eyed and ready to bolt.

  “Water?” I ask.

  She looks left and then she looks right.

  “Uh, sure.” I hand her the bottle and sit in one of the chairs arranged in front of my desk. She follows and perches on the edge of her seat opposite me.

  “Liam, I don’t know what we could possibly have to talk about. Kit made it pretty clear that you and Amira don’t get along, and this . . .” She says, gesturing toward the door that leads to the wild club full of extreme partiers that she just witnessed firsthand thanks to me.

  “This is not a lifestyle for a father. This isn’t even the lifestyle for a married man.”

  “Exactly.”

  Her face is void of all expression until she repeats my word.

  “Exactly?”

  That’s what I wanted to tell you, Lourdes. This is my life. This is who I was, and the kind of people I associated with every day until Amira tricked me into marrying her six months ago.”

  “She tricked you? Yeah, sure. I’m not as worldly as you are, but I’m also not naive. People don’t get tricked into marriage. They get drunk and make bad decisions maybe, but—”

  “No, that’s where you’re wrong. Amira drugged me. She, or someone she hired—I’ll never know—injected me with a combination of ketamine and amphetamines after a show in Germany last year. I don’t remember anything, but the entire night was documented by the paparazzi, right down to the wedding.”

  The unopened bottle of water slips in her hand, falling into her lap, and her deep, dark eyes fill with tears. I hate telling this fucking story. It’s humiliating.

  “Liam, I . . . I don’t know what to say. That’s horrible.”

  “There isn’t anything to say. I just wanted you to know there is no love between my wife and me. Our marriage is a total sham.”

  “Why are you still married to her then? How could you live every day with such a monster?”

  I reach across and remove the water bottle from her lap. It’s beginning to sweat on her pretty dress. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees to look her directly in the eyes.

  “Her father is the wealthiest oil tycoon in the world. He has no time to deal with a bratty, spoiled daughter who defies him with everything she does. Amira refused to go to college, she hung out in clubs and raves, and did drugs and drank to get his attention, and it infuriated him. Marrying me was the last straw. He flipped and told her he wouldn’t be publicly humiliated any longer and that if she was going to go off and marry a DJ, she had better make it work.

  He threatened her with her inheritance and her trust fund, and he promised to ruin my career if we failed. He knew she could never do it. He was punishing her for marrying beneath her without a prenuptial agreement. I was just becoming a household name, on the verge of a platinum album. I couldn’t take any risks. I didn’t know what kind of connections he might have. Amira’s father has unlimited resources. He could have squashed me.”

  “So you just stayed with her? Have you been . . .?” Her sentence trails off and she looks away.

  “Faithful? Yes, but only because I didn’t want Amira’s father to catch me cheating. Paparazzi are everywhere. There are cameras and videos shooting all the time in this business. I left the country to tour in Europe and she moved into my house without my knowledge. I found her when I came home for a quick weekend three months later, and we had it out. She told me some sad shit about her childhood, and I’m a sucker, so I let her stay when I went back to the tour.

  “Did you ever act like you were married?”

  “If you’re asking if we had sex, the answer is yes, a few times. I sort of just played along and hoped she would get tired of waiting for me to come home, but she didn’t. When I got back, I told her I wanted a divorce, and then she hit me with this baby plan. I thought I could do it. I thought I’d be able to figure it all out until now.”

  “What’s different now?”

  I reach across the small space between us and take her hands in mine. I watch a shiver run through her from the contact. Her hands are soft and
warm, and our arms have formed a bridge between our knees. I look down and brush my thumb over her knuckles.

  I want to tell her that she is what makes it different now, but that would scare her away. I want to tell her she is irresistible and fascinating, but I can’t say that either.

  “I’m well established in my career. The world knows me. My fans love me, and they’re devoted, loyal people who wouldn’t believe anything a rich oil tycoon said about me. She doesn’t really have any money of her own. Her father controls it all, and we didn’t have a prenuptial agreement. If she gets pissed at me and her father disowns her, she’s going to take half of everything I’ve worked ten years to build.

  She shakes her head and closes her eyes.

  “Wait, I don’t get it. So you want a divorce, her dad’s going to strip her of her name and money, and now you want a baby together? I’m still confused.”

  The urge to smooth a tiny wisp of her hair on her forehead is just too strong. I reach up and half expect her to flinch, but she doesn’t. She holds still, and after I’ve made her flawless again, I cup her cheek in mine and hold her eyes. I can’t hold back any longer. I need to tell her how I feel.

  “Nothing about this makes sense, especially what I’m feeling for you.”

  If I weren’t a very disciplined man, I would take advantage of this moment and kiss her. God, I want to, but no matter how fucked up my marriage is, I can’t risk my future or my business.

  I drop her hands, stand up, and begin to pace the length of the room while she follows me with her eyes.

  “Liam.”

  Her voice is hushed, barely audible, but it stops my pacing and I turn to her.

  “I feel it too. It’s the most complicated thing. It’s wrong but so right at the same time.”