Manservant

by Shari J. Ryan

  I know Samantha isn’t going to ride my butt about not having this binder memorized yet, but there’s something inside me that pains for Dylan. I don’t want to be just another failed nanny experience for him, which I’ve already set out to do by almost drowning when he needed me yesterday.

  I lean over the counter, keeping my back to Dylan and Liam as I drag my finger slowly down the pages, trying not to miss any of the bullet points—such as: he needs grape juice at three o’clock each afternoon. Ech. What kid likes grape juice?

  I glance over my shoulder to check on Dylan, and not so surprisingly, I find Liam staring directly at my ass. I was going to ask about the grape juice, but to get his attention, I would need to clear my throat or think of some other way to distract him from his staring issue. I hold my stare, waiting for him to notice that I’ve noticed him, but I’m sure it’s been like thirty solid seconds. This is becoming uncomfortable for me, and I’m not the one staring at an ass.

  He emits an exaggerated sigh and looks back down at his phone as if he didn’t notice I caught him staring. Ohhh, we’re still playing. How could I forget when I’m losing this game?

  “Done,” Dylan says, dropping his spoon down onto the wooden table. He looks up at the clock and over at Liam. “Can I play for ten minutes before I have to get ready?”

  “No, no more video games this morning. You’re only supposed to be playing for an hour a day, which means you’ll burn your time for later if you do that.” That’s what the book says.

  “It’s ten minutes,” Liam argues.

  “I’m following Samantha’s rules,” I retort.

  Liam rolls his eyes at me and looks back at his phone. No wonder Dylan loves him so much. He’s the king of breaking the rules, I gather.

  “You suck,” Dylan tells me as he pushes away from the table. The scraping of his chair against the floor sends a chill up my spine. Geez. Easy, kid. Just to drive his point home, he slams the chair against the table before storming out of the room. “You suck. You suck. You suck.” He continues all the way up the stairs until I hear his door slam.

  “My God, it’s ten minutes,” I shout after him. “And, I don’t think you should be using that language.” I realize I’m yelling up the stairs to him, and he’s either ignoring me or can’t hear me. Either way, I’m wasting my breath.

  “Yeah, it’s ten minutes,” Liam reminds me. “Not worth the fight you’re about to endure.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to endure any fight,” I tell him. “He just stormed off to his room. It seems like the fight is over to me.”

  Liam snickers, but holds his gaze firm on the screen of his phone. “Okay.”

  The snicker kind of says it all, though. Dylan is totally upstairs playing the stupid game.

  I storm up to his bedroom and give Dylan the decency of knocking once before opening the door. Sure enough, he’s setting up the game. “I just told you no,” I say, calmly. “You need to listen to me when your parents aren’t here.”

  “Parent,” he corrects me. “Daniel isn’t anyone’s parent.”

  “He loves you, though,” I tell him, immediately regretting my words because I don’t know if that’s true or not.

  “No, he doesn’t. He loves my mom, sometimes.” That’s a little heavy for a ten-year-old.

  “Okay, fine, play the game for ten minutes,” I tell him. I hate giving in, but Liam might be right about picking my battles with Dylan. I want him to like me, but at the same time, I don’t want him to walk all over me.

  He doesn’t say thank you or seem to appreciate me giving in, so I leave him to his game and head back downstairs, feeling like I have an “L” stamped on my forehead.

  “Told you,” Liam says as I walk back into the kitchen.

  “Shut up.” I open the fridge and grab an orange.

  “Why did you change out of your bathing suit? You know Dylan has training in an hour, right?” Liam asks.

  “I’m letting it dry off so I don’t get a chapped ass like you probably have right now. As if I answered my longing question about Liam and his assiness, I widen my gaze and lean toward him. “Ohhhh, is that what your problem is?”

  Liam stands up from the table with a smirk and makes his way across the kitchen, retrieving a coffee mug from one of the cabinets. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with my ass, sunshine.” Yeah, I know that. Ugh. “So I couldn’t help but notice the brutal tension between you and Sterling this morning.”

  “There’s no tension,” I reply.

  “Well, clearly he’s not a good kisser. I mean, if he was, would you have been groping me this morning?”

  I’m peeling my orange as if I were skinning an animal, trying to breathe through my anger. “Grope you? More like I was trying to give a quick swing of my fist to your junk in retaliation for groping me.” I laugh, but it’s forced, and it sounds that way. “Can we just talk about the fact that you somehow had a boner in ice-cold water?”

  “Oh, sunshine, that wasn’t a boner.” Shit! It was like hard and stuff . . . I think. I don’t know. It happened so quickly. I thought it was impossible, but it was hard?

  “Sterling was an amazing kisser, by the way. Since you’re so concerned with it, I figured you should know that there might be some validity to all those rumors you’ve heard about him.”

  “Aw,” he coos. “Was it breathtaking while you were staring out into the ocean under the starlit sky? Did he tell you how beautiful you are, then say how long it’s been since a girl has given him any attention?” His question makes me think back to last night, replaying the order in which everything happened. The bottle of wine clearly didn’t help me hang on to most of what Sterling said, but I don’t recall him telling me I was beautiful or mentioning how long it’s been since he’s been with another woman. “You don’t have to respond. I already know the answer.” Suddenly, Liam is all-knowing and versed on Sterling’s perpetual dating behavior. “In any case, he should have told you the first part—any man who isn’t blind would said that to you, but he isn’t lacking attention, so that truth would never help his case.”

  Did he just backhandedly call me beautiful, or am I confused by what he’s trying to say? The first part—he was totally sneaking in a compliment. Nice play, Liam. Nice play. “How exactly do you know all of this?”

  “I’ve been friends with the guy for a few years. You come to learn these things.”

  “Well, you can’t fake a kiss like that, so, I don’t know.” I swear his cheeks are turning red, which tells me I’m getting under his skin. It’s the only way I guess. There must be some history between Sterling and Liam that I don’t know about, and if there is, I definitely want to find out what it is.

  “Maybe you just haven’t been kissed well enough to know the difference,” he says, pouring the carafe of coffee into his mug. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please,” I say, realizing I haven’t even had one cup yet. No wonder I’m feeling a bit short-tempered. I have to have my coffee in the morning.

  “No, I didn’t mean I’d show you the difference between the two types of kisses.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind,” he chuckles.

  “Coffee. That’s all I agreed to.” God, he doesn’t give up.

  “Okay.”

  That’s it. I’m bringing in the big guns. I look out into the living room to make sure Dylan is nowhere in sight before I stride over to where Liam is pouring the coffee. As soon as he places the carafe down, I run my hand up the rippled muscles of his back, probably torturing myself more than him, but I continue, squeezing his shoulder a bit. I press up on my toes, bringing my lips closer to his ear and pull the only card I think I have right now. “I know you want me, but you’re going about this all wrong,” I whisper in his ear.

  He releases a loud breath. “Oh, I don’t know,” he says, not as affirmatively as I expected, though. “You see, I figured if I hid your little friend, you’d eventually become desperate enough to come find me in a time of need.”
Bastard. I knew he took Shermanator. Who does that? Why do I keep asking that? Clearly, Liam has no boundaries and does everything I would never expect another person to do. This is why I can’t stay one step ahead of him.

  “Keep it,” I tell him. “My shower is just fine.” That’s not going to do the trick. I need a better weapon.

  “I’m aware,” he says with a grin. “The massage setting on that thing vibrates the entire house, so I’m sure I was of some assistance with that blast of cold water this morning at justtttt—Ohhhh yeahhhh—the right moment.” I fall slowly from the tips of my toes down to my heels, feeling a heat rush through my cheeks. He knew what I was doing. I was in the shower, in private, doing the nasty to myself, and everyone who was in this house knew . . . except for Dylan, thankfully. God help him if he’s aware of that shit already.

  Here I am, almost letting him get to me. I can’t forget how big of an asshole he is. That’s never going to change, and everything about him, sexy or not, is a horrible idea.

  “You know, you may just end up running me right into Sterling’s bed,” I tell him.

  “Good. Go.” If he doesn’t care, why put in all this effort to drive me crazy?

  I take the mug of coffee and leave the kitchen, feeling a little hurt when I should not be feeling a thing after what’s been going on between us. He is the exact reason why I made my rule about staying away from good-looking men. It shouldn’t be that hard of a rule to follow when I already know the outcome.

  There’s nothing quite like sitting in a wet bathing suit on a rock under a cloudy sky. Plus, there’s a whole déjà vu thing that’s going on with Liam sitting next to me, and Sterling twenty feet in front of us, talking to the group of kids. Liam and I are the only ones sitting so close to the class. The parents of the other kids are spread out, but I guess Dylan tends to interrupt a lot so we—I—need to be close by in case I need to take him away from the class for a minute. In any case, here we are again.

  Sterling instructs the kids to begin running their beach laps, and he takes the opportunity to meander over to where we are. I stand up to greet him. “Hey, I was thinking . . . everyone keeps talking about this pizza place in Ogunquit. I know I said I needed some time last night, but it’s just pizza, so do you want to get a slice after work?” I ask him. “It can be as friends.”

  “For real?” he asks, sounding very surprised after I turned him down last night and basically this morning.

  “Yeah, I’ll need to get a breather after this day, so it’ll be good to get away for a bit. Jade’s busy tonight I guess, so I need someone to keep me company.” I have no clue what Jade’s doing tonight, but after her display last night, I assume she’ll be busy with Cleary. That’s how she gets. Jade falls for a guy and gets wrapped up with him faster than any insta-love book I’ve ever read. I think that’s how she ended up engaged and almost married before turning twenty-three. Someday she’ll figure it out, but until then, I guess we live and learn.

  “Should I pick you up or would you like to meet me?” he asks, smiling from ear-to-ear. There’s nothing fake about that smile, or that kiss last night. I don’t care what Liam says. He’s just jealous. At least Sterling knows how to act like a gentleman, for the most part.

  “I’ll meet you there. Let’s say, six-thirty?” I ask, tossing a smile back at him.

  “Perfect,” he says. “It’s a date.” Sterling eyeballs Liam and offers him a quick wink as he takes off in the opposite direction. Geez, if looks could kill.

  “Dylan, come on buddy, keep up,” Liam shouts over to him as he watches Sterling run off. Yeah, this ought to be fun.

  Looking past the uncomfortable exchange, I see Dylan hunched over to catch his breath while the other kids are still running. “I can’t,” Dylan yells.

  I jog over to him and place my hand on his back. “You okay?”

  “My chest hurts,” he says.

  I kneel into the sand, forcing him to look at me. “That means your stretching your muscles. How else are you going to become a superhero?”

  “I’m ten, Julia, not six,” he says, deadpanning like I’m a moron for suggesting something so insulting.

  “Sorry,” I tell him. “I know this isn’t your thing, but running is good for your heart and your muscles. It makes you feel happy, and it does make you super strong, which is never a bad thing, right?”

  “How do you know,” he asks. Dylan straightens his posture.

  “I used to be in track while I was in school, so I know a thing or two. You know what I used to do when my chest started to hurt?”

  “What?” he asks, curiously.

  “I would think of something else while I was running. Don’t focus on your chest. Count your breaths and try to slow them down so it hurts less.”

  “Okay,” he says. “I’ll try.”

  “I’ll time you, okay?”

  “But I already stopped.”

  “I’ll figure out the pause you took and subtract it to give you your speed and time. It’s not a problem.”

  The faintest of smiles touches Dylan’s lips, and he takes off, sprinting after the others. I won’t call it a breakthrough yet, but we’re getting there, slowly.

  I head back to my issues—Liam and Sterling—and find them in a quiet discussion so I keep a small distance between us and grab my phone from my bag to set the timer for Dylan.

  Their conversation ends with laughter, which sort of worries me, but I’m sure it had nothing to do with me. I’ll just think, and hope that, at least.

  Liam comes up behind me as I’m keeping an eye on my watch. “That wasn’t bad,” he tells me.

  “Did you just say something positive?” I ask, displaying an expression of shock stretched across my face to enhance my sarcasm.

  “Won’t let it happen again,” he says. Liam crosses his arms over his chest and maintains his focus on Dylan’s laps. “I’ll make sure to replace the condoms in your bathroom later.”

  I knew his pleasantness couldn’t last more than fifteen seconds. Plus, it’s so obvious how badly he wants me to argue with him. “Oh, that would be great, but could you replace them with the extra-large condoms. The regular ones probably won’t work too well for Sterling, you know?”

  “Aw, are you trying to piss me off, Julia?” he asks. “Because if you are, let me tell you something. It’s going to take a lot more than going out for pizza with Sterling to get under my skin.” I want to call his bluff since it’s kind of obvious that I’m bugging him.

  “Wow. Has anyone ever told you how conceited and cocky you are?” I follow.

  “Daily. It’s my best attribute. Thanks for noticing.”

  “That’s true. Those may be your best attributes.” Yeah, take that, bastard.

  As the silence grows between us, Sterling takes the kids into the water, and I keep my focus on Dylan after what happened yesterday.

  “Are you vibrating?” Liam asks. I didn’t realize you had two, or that you walked around with it between your legs. That’s pretty hot.” Why does his stupid voice have to be so deep and guttural? The goddamn sound of it pretty much sends a different kind of vibration through me.

  “It’s my phone, dimwit.”

  “Ouch. Easy on the name calling, ouch.”

  I pull my phone out of my back pocket, seeing Dad’s name appear on the screen. Weird. He doesn’t usually call me during the day, though it has been a couple of days now.

  “Hey, Dad!”

  There’s a pause before he says anything so I pull my phone away to see if I have service. I do, hmmm.

  “Hey Jelly-Bean,” he finally says. His voice is weird. He’s doing that thing where he pretends to be happy when something is wrong. I think he forgets I’ve known him my entire life.

  As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to realize that while Mom and Dad tried to keep the bad parts of life away from me—until Mom left—I was constantly studying them, watching, learning how to keep things from people so I wouldn’t hurt them.

  “What
’s wrong, Dad?”

  “Now, why are you going to go ahead and assume something is wrong because a dad wants to call his favorite daughter.”

  “Dad . . .” I place my finger in my ear, avoiding the gust of wind hitting me face-on.

  “Jelly-Bean, I lost the house.”

  “You, what?” I shout at him out of utter shock, feeling a coldness run through every nerve-ending in my body. It’s almost like the water from this morning. I’m frozen and don’t know what to say or ask—where to start. “Daddy, what happened?” I gravitate away from Liam, not wanting him to hear the conversation.

  “I lost my job, baby-girl. It’s only been a week, but finances weren’t good when I had a job, and I’ve missed two mortgage payments, so losing this job was kind of the final nail in the coffin, you know?”

  “I’ve only been gone a week though!” I remind him because I had no clue we were in trouble. We had savings, I thought—or so he told me.

  “I know. I didn’t want to worry you, not with this big opportunity you have out there in Maine, but I didn’t want you to call the house phone and wonder why it won’t be answered again after the next few days.”

  “I’ll help you. I’ll give you whatever I make so we can save the house. You name it, I’ll do it. How much is the mortgage?” It’s the very least I can do after he worked overtime for four years to pay my college tuition, and now he’s unknowingly enduring my biggest lie I’ve ever told him, making this situation a million times worse. We’ve lived in that house since I was a baby. There’s no way it can just be taken from us.

  All throughout this life-shattering news, I’m keeping my eye on Dylan, and I can also see Liam keeping his eye on me.

  “Julia, I don’t want one penny from you. I’ll figure something out, okay?”

  “No, Dad, it’s not okay. What are you going to figure out? How long before you have to get the house cleaned out? I’m coming home.” The staggering questions and statements shoot from my mouth without thought, but he has been there for me every day of my life, and I can’t let this all fall on him.