“Julia, I will not get in the middle of you and a career you have been working towards for four years. You’re out of your mind, sweetheart. I want you to stay in Maine, and I want you to kick butt with that internship. Do you understand?” I can’t do this.
I feel explosive because I can’t keep this lie in any longer. “Dad,” I belt out, hearing my voice crack.
“Are you outside or something? I can hardly hear you.”
“Yes, I’m outside.”
“Okay, well, I don’t want you to get in trouble at work, so give me a call when you get out of the office tonight. I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. I promise.”
“Dad,” I say again, softer this time. He may not have even heard me.
“Jelly-Bean, it’s going to be okay. I’ll talk to you tonight.” I should just say it—tell him I lied, tell him I’m just as bad as Mom. He deserves to know.
“I have to tell you something, Dad.” I catch a falling tear, wishing Liam was not standing behind me. Not only can I not walk any further away without losing sight of Dylan, but I’m being forced to prove my worthlessness in this world.
“Later, sweetie. Get back inside, please. I love you. We’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” I whisper, being a coward.
“Bye, now.” I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at the empty call screen. I am so awful.
I inhale the salty air, letting it saturate my lungs as I briefly stare up at the sky briefly, needing the pain in my chest to ease. How much bad luck does one good man deserve? It’s not fair, and I’ve added to it. I thought it would be a harmless decision but he has given me everything, and in return I gave him a lie.
A hand cups my elbow, and I shudder at the surprising touch. “I—I couldn’t help but overhear some of that. Is everything okay?” Part of me is waiting for Liam to kick me in the back of my knees because I’m already down, but there’s nothing funny or even remotely mean sounding about the way he’s speaking to me or what he’s asking.
I bite down on my lip to stop the tremble in my chin. “I’m fine,” I croak.
“What happened?” Liam presses.
I shrug and swallow against the thick feeling in my throat. “My dad lost his job and has to get rid of our house. It’s just us two so—I don’t know what to do.”
“What does he want you to do?”
“Stay . . . at an internship that doesn’t exist—that I lied about. I lied to the one man who has never hurt me, and he’s the one person I should never have lied to, for so many reasons.” The words continue to spill out, and I have a hard time understanding why they are coming so easily with a man who has made my blood boil more in the last week than any other person has in my entire life.
“Why did you lie?” His question is so simple, and my answer should be just as easy to offer, but I’m not sure why I lied.
“I think I told him what he wanted to hear.”
“So, you were protecting him,” Liam adds.
“I was selfish.”
“How?”
“I just graduated with a journalism degree that cost my dad everything, and rather than get an internship at a newspaper or something, as I should have, I wanted a summer off before, you know . . .”
“Hitting the real world?” He finishes my sentence as if he’s been through this before. I think Liam is a bit older than I am, but I don’t know enough about where he’s been or what he’s gone through to assume he understands any of this.
“Yes, exactly,” I confirm.
“First, this isn’t a summer off, as you’ve already seen. Second, you’re getting life experience, which is very important for any writer, in my opinion. Third, you have your whole life to follow whatever dream you started during college. I don’t think your dad would blame you for wanting a few months of life experience.”
I take a few steps backward and plop down on one of the rocks. My chest is aching, and my lungs feel heavy. Maybe he doesn’t understand. I’m the only one who could ever understand why this matters. Liam follows me over to the rocks and takes a seat beside me, letting me know he’s still listening. “It’s not about being right or wrong. I lied. My mom lied too, then left us in the dust.”
Liam huffs a sarcastic snicker. “There’s a bunch of shitty parents out there, huh?”
“Guess so.”
“Look, I don’t know very much about your story, but we all lie if we think it’s for a good reason. I’ve only known you for a few days, but I can tell you’re not a bad person—maybe a little reckless and clumsy, but you’re good. I’m sure when you lied, it was for the right reason.”
I glance over at him and the small smirk perking up in the corner of his mouth. “I was wondering when an insult would find its way out of your mouth. I’m not reckless, just for the record.”
“It just happens,” he explains seriously as if he truly can’t control what he says.
“Yeah, I can tell.” He nudges his shoulder into mine. “If I can help in any way, let me know, okay?”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
He doesn’t respond, probably because Dylan is running toward us. The training went by much quicker today than it did yesterday.
“What were my times?” he asks as he reaches us.
Oh, crap. I completely lost track of his times when Dad called.
“Oh no,” I hesitate.
Dylan grabs chunks of his hair as his face reddens. “No, no, no, you have to have the times. You said! Why can’t you do anything right? You’re so stupid, just like the rest of them.” Geez. That’s a little rough.
“Bud, you know what,” Liam interrupts. “I told Julia I’d keep the times for you, and then my phone died halfway through.”
Dylan stops panicking and releases his hair from his clenched grip. “Oh,” he says. Dylan clearly has understanding or patience for Liam.
“Can you please say you’re sorry to Julia? That was rude, little man.”
Dylan rolls his eyes and turns his head toward me. Even though I feel like I don’t deserve his apology, he mutters a quick, “Sorry.”
“Okay, grab your towel. Let’s get back to the house,” Liam tells him.
Dylan runs ahead of us, kicking sand as he goes. “I have a real dumb question for you,” I say to Liam, ambling through the soft sand in his shadow.
“Aw, all of your questions are dumb, sunshine.” In response to his special comment, I decide not to ask my question, but he surprisingly turns around and smiles. “Kidding.”
Better be. “If you’re so great with Dylan, why are you just the manservant rather than the manny?”
Liam trips over a vine of seaweed and loses his sandal in the process. “Wowwww,” he says, rebounding from his missed footing. “You think you’re pretty cute, huh?”
“It’s an honest question, and for your information, the definition of a male maid is, in fact, a manservant. Google it. You’ll see. And manny? Everyone knows a male nanny is called a manny.”
“Okay, well, I prefer to go by Liam.”
“So, why then? Why don’t you just be Dylan’s male nanny? Better?”
“I had no prior experience with kids.”
“Oh, what is your prior experience with cleaning houses?” Whether he’s older than I am or not, there’s no way he’s been here for a few years and had much of any experience before then.
“My mother owns Maids of Maine,” he says, keeping his pace quick, staying in front of me.
I guess that would qualify him for this job. “Never heard of the company.” What else is there to say?
“You’re not from Maine,” he replies. “Anyway, I hope you’re not asking this male nanny question because you’re thinking of leaving.”
“Why would you care? Wouldn’t that make you happy?”
Liam stops short in the middle of the path between the beach and the house. He places his hand up for me to stop, and thankfully, I do, so he doesn’t cop another handful of boob today.
“Don’t you dare
leave,” he says with way more anger than I feel is necessary at the moment.
“Whoa, easy,” I tell him. “What happened to all of that understanding you were bullshitting me with a few minutes ago?”
“Forget it,” he growls.
“It’s my dad,” I snap back.
“Yeah and if you want any hope of proving your responsibility this summer, not walking away from a commitment would be a good way of doing that.”
I take a step back, needing more space from this accusatory conversation. How dare he use his selfish desires to guilt me into making a decision that may not be right for me.
I increase my pace to catch up with him. “You know, it’s obvious you have a thing for me, and I’m flattered, but making me feel guilty with aggression isn’t going to change the outcome.”
“Shit,” he says, peering over at me, clearly disgusted as he looks me up and down. “This is why I am the way I am. Do you even have an inkling of an idea just how detrimental it is for Dylan to have a change in his life? It’s bad enough Samantha can only get a nanny for him in seasonal increments, but every two weeks I have to watch the same shit while Dylan goes through hell. Look what happens if you don’t put fruit in his cereal. You, nannies are all the same, and you are the reason I’m not pleasant to “the help.” Liam turns to the house and heads up there, leaving me in the heat of his anger.
As if I hadn’t already been winded once in the past hour, it’s happened again, and it hurts almost as bad this time.
This house seemed so large when I first got here. Now, I feel like I’m suffocating. Liam has avoided me all day, and with Dylan’s busy schedule, I’ve tried not to notice. Apparently, my shadowing/training time is over now, which I’m thankful for.
Daniel came home even earlier than he mentioned this morning, allowing me to get this call over with sooner rather than later.
I’ve never been nervous to call Dad. He’s the one I run to when I need to talk, but this pit in my stomach is growing larger by the minute thanks to my stupidity. I grab the phone from my nightstand and sit stiffly on the edge of the bed as I dial his number.
He picks up after only two rings, sounding a bit more distressed than he did earlier.
“Jelly-bean,” he says, breathlessly. “Are you okay?” The simple fact that he’s more concerned about me, who happens to be living in a million-dollar house for the summer, rather than himself, who is about to go couch hopping at our neighbors’ houses until we figure this out, makes me a total asshole.
“Dad, I lied to you.”
He clears his throat following a long pause like he has always done when I’ve fallen beneath the standard of a good daughter. I haven’t heard the clearing of the throat since I brought Andy home. He knew well before I did that he was no good, probably just by looking at him. Stupid good-looking men. “What—what is there to lie about?”
He breaks at the word, and my heart feels about the same. “I didn’t get an internship in Maine.”
“Huh? Where the hell are you then?” Okay, so we skipped the disappointed phase of this and went right to pissed.
“I’m in Maine, but I’m nannying for the summer. I just . . . I wanted a few months of—”
“Of what?” he snaps.
I think back to the only nice thing Liam has said to me this week, remembering my reason for doing what I did. “I wanted a little life experience before I settled down into a forever career.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” I pick at a thread pulling from the frayed hem of my shorts. Another simple question with no simple answer.
“I thought you’d be upset and disappointed that I wasn’t ready to go out and get the career I’m planning. You’ve spent the last however many years working your butt off to ensure I’d have what I needed for a successful future. You’ve said it yourself a million times. I was the reason you had to work twelve-hour days, two jobs, and side work.”
“I’m upset you lied to me. We don’t do that, Julia. We promised each other a long time ago we would never lie.” I hear a loud sigh from his end of the phone.
“I’m going to come home and help you.” I need to ignore what Liam said and put aside Dylan for the moment, knowing Dad has to come first.
“No, you’re not. I’m putting everything into storage, and I think Gerald has some space for me.”
“Gerald? No way. You’re allergic to cats, and he has like ten. Not to mention there’s no space there for you other than their cat-hair-covered couch. What about your lady friend there?”
Dad clears his throat; I suspect it’s to avoid the discussion about his lady friend. Typical. “Cat hair makes the couch a little softer, right? Besides, I have allergy meds. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re always fine, but I see through it, Dad.”
“Jelly-Bean, someday, God willing, you are going to have a son or daughter, and you will understand what it means to give unconditionally and without regret. I will give you whatever I have, whenever I have it, but I will never take from you, even if you have everything. You are my daughter, and putting the lying thing aside, I think taking a few months to find yourself is a fine idea.”
This is why I call him when I need someone to talk to and listen to me. “Thanks for understanding, but I can’t just get off the phone, knowing what I’m hanging up on.”
“Pay your loans, that’s all I need you to do. That will help me. Be happy and enjoy this time before you have someone you live, breath, work, and survive for. Do this for me.”
“You’re going to make me cry, Dad.”
“Well, you’ll probably look like a raccoon if you do, so it’s your call, sweetie.”
“Ugh, I miss you.”
“Miss you more, baby-girl. I’ll give you a call soon when I have more information on what’s going on. In the meantime, don’t worry, and have a good time.”
I toss the phone behind me, feeling relief from my lie, but sadness for everything else.
“Are you going to cry or what?” Liam is standing in my doorway, shirtless.
“What do you want?” I ask him, with tears filling my eyes and threatening to spill over. He pulls his arm out from behind him, handing me a bowl filled with condoms. “Really, Liam?”
“Extra-large, just like you requested.” He isn’t smiling. He looks pissed, but why would he be standing here, holding out a bowl of condoms if he were still pissed over something I said.
“Is this supposed to be some kind of peace offering for your asshole behavior?”
He walks into the room, coming closer to where I’m sitting. There’s heat spreading throughout my body as I struggle to take my eyes off of his chest. He’s glistening. How is that even possible? People don’t glisten unless they’ve been sprayed before a photo shoot.
“I know you have a date in an hour, but I needed to get something off my chest first.” He closes the bedroom door, and I’m silently freaking out, wondering what he’s doing—why he just closed us in my room, and . . . he’s half naked.
“You had condoms on your chest?”
As per his usual behavior, he ignores my attempt at humor and continues toward me. How big is this room? Because if feels like he’s been walking forward in slow motion for twenty minutes.
I stand up so I don’t feel so inferior to his tall height compared to mine, and I cross my arms over my chest in defense against whatever he’s planning. “First, I’m sorry. I was wrong.” He’s sorry? He has real emotions and feelings? I didn’t see this coming. “Second, I do like you . . . I like picking on you, I should say. As soon as I got a little insight into your life today, the like factor might have gone up a smidgen.” He wasn’t hiding this fact. I might not have a great track record with relationships, but I do know how a hot guy flirts. I have notes jotted down on it in my writing scrapbook. “Third—” He’s in my space, breaking through my bubble, and intruding on the air that’s mine to breathe. He’s stolen my air. I can’t breathe at all. He smells like sexy man soap mixed with som
e form of Old Spice variant that doesn’t turn me off, surprisingly.
“Third?” I ask with trepidation.
He’s staring down at me with those emerald eyes that could put Ireland’s greenery to shame. He’s studying me like he’s trying to read my thoughts, but I don’t have any thoughts because my mind is blank and confused. I’m fighting against rules I’ve made for myself to keep—rules that should not be broken because I’ll never be able to write my book if I don’t eventually learn my lesson.
I try to swallow, but it’s impossible as his fingertips feather over my cheek, slowly skating back into my hair. I could stop him. I should stop him.
I have to tell Liam to get out of my room, and I would if I could figure out how to breathe while he’s touching me, but screw it, what’s the point? I’ve felt like shit all day and right now, I feel nothing but my heart racing inside of my chest.
“Three, I’m not gentle like I’m leading you to believe right now.” Yup, I think my heart has burst upward and might be sitting in my throat. My voice won’t even work. I’m trying to say show me, but instead, I’m just standing here like a moron waiting to see what he means by this. I have no restraint against hot men, and I’m obviously a failure at being a strong woman.
He lifts me up—literally sweeps me off my feet, and he was right, it isn’t gently. One arm is under my ass, and the other is around my back, and he throws me onto my bed. “If you’re going to be a writer, and you need some life experience, I can help you with that. Plus, the house is empty. They went out for dinner.” I have no idea what he just said because I don’t think I can put words together in a sentence to make any sort of sense.
I’m lying beneath him with my arms pinned above my head by one of his large hands, ready for . . . yeah, I’ll pretty much do whatever he suggests at this point because he’s hovering over me with a look I’ve never seen in any man’s eyes. Hot or not, holy shit, I don’t think I can say no to this. This is like a dirty-dream fantasy with a man I would just never get with. That’s the fantasy part. He’s an asshole, though, and here I am again. I might as well just take my heart out and—oh, okay, yeah, those are his lips, they’re a half inch from mine. He smells like mint, and I’m swallowing minty air while looking at up him with a wide gaze questioning what is happening. “Liam . . .” I have nothing to follow that. His name just sort of rolled off my tongue.
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