Jackson’s Nanny: Beverly Hills Dragons

by Ripley, Meg

Cathy pushed it back. “No. I’m not going to wash an extra plate when this one will do just fine. Eat up.”

  Eventually, she had convinced them to at least try a bite of each item. Jonathan acknowledged that the bacon “wasn’t so bad,” and Jessica had filled up on toast. It was a start. But she soon realized why Mr. Casey hadn’t been concerned about how late they slept in. Her attempts to wash up the breakfast dishes were constantly interrupted by loud shouts from down the hall.

  She stormed down to the play room for the fifth time. “I’ve asked you very nicely to keep it quiet because your father is sleeping. He works very hard and very late, and you need to respect that.” Cathy wasn’t so sure all of that was true. She had a feeling that Jackson didn’t do anything but party while he was out at his nightclubs, but she had made a promise to herself to raise these children correctly. That included making sure they had some sort of appreciation for their dad.

  “He took my Barbie and won’t give it back!” the little girl shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at her brother.

  “I’m just doing a science experiment on it. I’m going to turn her into a real girl so you have someone to play with and I won’t have to play with you anymore.” Jonathan had his sister’s Barbie wrapped in wires and sitting in a little plastic chair. The other ends of the wires were wrapped around a Speak and Spell.

  It was far too reminiscent of Weird Science for Cathy’s taste, considering Jonathan was a little too young to have seen that movie, but it was still somewhat amusing. “Jonathan, give your sister her doll back. The two of you need to get along for at least a few minutes so I can get the dishes cleaned up. Do you think you can do that?”

  “I don’t have to do anything you say,” the boy muttered, hunching his back and turning away from Cathy to continue his experiment.

  “You do, actually,” Cathy reminded him. “Don’t worry. We’ll get used to each other.” She unwound the Barbie from the wires and handed her back to Jessica. “Let’s try to share nicely, okay?”

  A few minutes later, she heard a door upstairs open and close. Footsteps came down the stairs, and Cathy stiffened, waiting for Jackson to chastise her for allowing the children to be so noisy. But she only caught the barest glimpse of him as he opened a door at the end of the hall, disappearing into the basement.

  When she was finished in the kitchen and went back to the play room to check on them once again, she opened the door to find a disaster. Jonathan—or at least a creature who had been Jonathan only a few moments ago—stood on top of a small table. Dark gold scales covered his body and his wings flapped swiftly in the air. The floor around him was scattered with a pale pink powder.

  “What is this?!”

  “It’s magical fairy dust!” Jessica held a fist full of Pixie Stix, one end of them open as she shook her hand in the air. “When you throw it on someone, it makes them fly!”

  Jonathan roared his agreement and shook some of the powder out of his scales.

  “Get down from that table right this minute!” Cathy pointed angrily at the floor. “And I suggest your change back to your human form if you can’t control this one!”

  He turned an indignant reptilian eye toward her and blew a steady stream of smoke from his nostrils.

  “Jonathan Casey, you might not like it, but you will learn to obey me. The two of you are going to clean this mess up, and you won’t get any television time until you do so. I’ll be right back with the vacuum.” She nearly slammed the bedroom door behind her, furious that they would make such a mess. Cathy knew their mother hadn’t been much of a role model, but she’d wanted to meet the woman and give her a piece of her mind.

  As she stormed down the hall, she realized she had no idea where the vacuum was kept. Mr. Casey had hardly shown or told her anything short of where the bathroom and the linens were. As it was, she had been fortunate to find the pans and utensils she’d needed in the kitchen while she was cooking breakfast. After checking several closets, getting angrier by the moment, Cathy realized there was no reason she couldn’t bother her boss about this. His children were the ones being disobedient, and she shouldn’t have to comb through every nook and cranny of the house just to find what she needed.

  Cathy opened the door that led to the basement. She had no idea what was down there, but she had caught a glimpse of the light fixture and the stairs when Jackson had gone down. Loud music was thumping through the walls, and she paused, raising her brow as she recognized Echo & the Bunnymen’s “The Killing Moon.” Hmm. If anything, at least he has good taste in music, she mused.

  “Mr. Casey?” she called. No response. Well, she couldn’t just stand around waiting for him to come back upstairs. With as fractious as he’d been, there was no telling when that would be. Cathy descended the steep staircase.

  The basement was nearly as massive as the main floor of the house. The layout was an open one with a large seating area created by a white leather pit couch and a huge television. A pool table and a foosball table took up another corner, with a small basketball hoop standing next to them. Mr. Casey wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but the music was blaring from a tall stereo system next to the TV.

  Turning around, Cathy found that the other side of the basement was a home gym. Several pieces of heavy equipment were scattered on the floor next to weights, jump ropes and a stationary bike. A weight bench sat in the corner, and Jackson lay on it with his feet on either side. Cathy was prepared to march up to him and demand to know just what he thought he was doing, but she stopped short when she noticed he was shirtless. Sweat dripped down his rippling abs as he lifted a weight-loaded bar over his head, causing his biceps to bulge. He had looked good in a suit, but that was nothing compared to the sight before her eyes right then.

  Color bloomed across her cheeks, but she had a job that needed to be done. She cleared her throat. “Mr. Casey?”

  He still couldn’t hear her. The music was loud enough at the top of the stairs, but it was deafening when she was actually in the same room. Cathy returned to the entertainment area and pushed the power button on the stereo.

  “Hey!”

  Now she had his attention. She turned back around with a smirk on her face, but it faded a little when she saw him sitting up and glaring at her. He was an intimidating man with his muscled chest bare to the world. “I…I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to know where the vacuum is.”

  Mr. Casey shook his head and grabbed a towel from a nearby rack. “Couldn’t that have waited? Besides, I never said you had to clean the house.”

  “I don’t plan to clean the house,” she explained. “But the children made a mess, and they’re going to clean it up. I need the vacuum so they can do that.”

  Jackson stood and began adding weights on the barbell. “Seems to me like that wouldn’t have happened if you’d been watching them.”

  “Excuse me, but I’ve already been working very hard this morning making sure they had an actual meal and that the dishes were cleaned up. Maybe if you’d spent a little more time with them or enforced a few rules around here, they’d know how to behave when left on their own for a few minutes. They’re old enough for that.”

  Throwing the towel over his shoulder, Jackson gave up on the weights and advanced on her. “You don’t have any right to come into my house and tell me how to do things, you know.”

  “I do when you’ve hired me to do exactly that,” she retorted. “And I don’t think it’s fair that I should get chewed out simply for asking where the vacuum is.” She had to tip her head back to look up at him. Maybe it was because there was less clothing between the two of them, or perhaps his workout had released some pheromones in the air, but Cathy almost didn’t mind arguing with him—as long as she got to stand near him. No. I can’t think like that.

  She expected him to continue arguing, but he turned away from her suddenly and swiped the towel over his face. “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly as he sat back down on the weight bench. “You’re right. Things have just been
really tough around here.”

  That caught her off-guard, and she just stared at him for a moment. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “I appreciate that, but you don’t really know. At least, I don’t know how much Brianna told you. Hell, even she might not know all of it.” Mr. Casey balled the towel in his hands and looked up at her. “The kids’ mom left without any notice. I mean, I should have seen it coming, but they didn’t. It might not be so hard on them if they were going to her place every other weekend or something. But they never hear from her at all. She was into this New Age stuff, and she wanted to explore her spirituality, and the kids just didn’t fit into that picture. I know Jessica doesn’t understand. Jonathan understands just enough to know he should be upset about it.”

  “I’m sure that’s very tough on them,” Cathy murmured, suddenly feeling like an idiot. Here she had waltzed into this man’s home and just assumed she’d known what was best, when she hadn’t even had the chance to get to know everyone yet.

  “It is, I think. And it’s been tough on me, too. Not because I miss her. Crystal and I haven’t been in—sorry, you don’t need to hear about any of that. This is about the kids, not me.” He stood up and grabbed his shirt, covering his hard torso in white cotton.

  “It’s all right. Sometimes it helps to get things off your chest.” Her eyes widened in embarrassment and she felt the heat of her face as it flushed once again. “I—I mean, your mind.”

  He fiddled with the settings on a different piece of equipment. “I guess it would make sense for you to know, since you’re going to be living here. I’ve had a horrible time since Crystal left. Since I work a lot, I’d always assumed she’d been doing all of her motherly duties with the children. It was only once I had to take on those duties myself that I realized she hadn’t done anything. I don’t know how to create schedules for them or decide what rules they should have. I don’t think it would be fair to take anything away from them when they’re already hurting so much from her absence.” He shook his head again. “It’s not fair to them, you know?”

  Cathy nodded. “I saw my little brothers and sisters go through some similar hardships when my father died. It was supposed to be easier on them when my mother remarried. In a lot of ways, it was. But it still took time to adjust to having a new man in the house. They didn’t want to listen to him or spend time with him, but they eventually came around. Children are resilient, including Jonathan and Jessica.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I am.” She smiled. The mess that would still be waiting for her when she went back upstairs was proof that her charges were just normal kids. “And what about you? How are you faring without your wife?”

  “Oh, that.” He wiped down the weight bench and picked up a jump rope, coiling it into neat loops before hanging it on a peg on the wall. “That’s the part I’m least concerned about. We had grown into very different people quite some time ago. We rarely saw each other anyway, so it’s not much different for me that she’s not here, other than the fact that I’ve had to take care of the children. My biggest worry is knowing what fucking tent in the desert to send her divorce papers to.” He gave a genuine laugh, and Cathy found it contagious. She was soon laughing, too.

  “I really am sorry I bothered you,” she said after a minute. “I do need the vacuum, though.”

  Jackson smiled, renewing hope in Cathy that the two of them could at least be friends. “It’s in the closet under the stairs, I believe.”

  “Thanks.” She returned his smile and trotted back up to the main level and retrieved the machine, wheeling it down to the toy room. Jonathan had reverted back to a human child, and he and his sister sat looking guilty at the little table. Long stripes had formed in the pink powder on the floor where someone had tried to clean the mess up with their little fingers.

  “We’re really sorry,” Jessica said sadly.

  Jonathan was less enthusiastic, but Cathy was fairly certain she heard a mumbled apology from him as well.

  “The best way to let someone know you’re sorry is to fix the problem.” They were her mother’s words, and ones that Cathy had heard so many times in her young life that she hated them, but they were quite appropriate at the moment. The kids were lost when it came to using the vacuum, but Cathy patiently showed them how to safely plug it in and turn it on. It was too tall for Jessica to use easily, but she was able to use the hose attachment to do the edges of the floor after Jonathan had vacuumed up everything else. Cathy knew she would need to talk to Jonathan some more about shifting into a dragon and when it was appropriate, but that was a sensitive subject she would need to discuss with his father first. After all, what did she know about the in and outs of shifting? It could wait until later, and she took the children outside to play.

  Chapter Five

  Bliss was one of the trendiest nightclubs in Los Angeles. The young crowd flocked there to hear all the latest bands, many of them booked by Damien after he had signed them to his record label. It was a system that worked out very well for the two men, and Damien’s talent for finding chart-topping bands had made Jackson an awful lot of money.

  That night, a band that Jackson hadn’t heard play before was taking the stage. With heavy guitar rhythms, big hair, and a vocalist that ground out lyrics with a wailing scream, they reminded Jackson of Mötley Crüe or the Scorpions. While it wasn’t his favorite music, it was nice to have a variety of genres coming into the club. Brianna’s band had a new wave style, and there were other singers with more of a pop sound. The patrons never got bored at Bliss. Jackson’s office there had a tinted glass wall that allowed him to see almost everything that was going on without anyone paying attention to him.

  And even though it was another great night with a throbbing crowd and the drinks were practically flying over the bar, Jackson couldn’t keep his mind on his business. When he’d left the house, Cathy had just sat the children down for a homecooked meal of pork chops, applesauce, baked potatoes and broccoli. It was a far cry from the frozen junk they’d been subsisting on for the last few years, ever since Crystal had decided there were far more important things in life than slaving over a stove for more than five minutes. Countless times, Jackson had considered hiring a cook, but he’d been too busy managing his properties to interview candidates.

  “Would you like to stay and eat with us?” Cathy offered.

  He stopped for a moment to appreciate the delicious aromas wafting through the house, and it had just about been enough to make him late for work. When was the last time he’d had a homecooked meal? It was tempting, but he’d been missing out on far too much time at the clubs as it was. “Thanks, but maybe another time.” Jackson had dashed out the door as fast as he could.

  Unfortunately, the children didn’t seem to be as appreciative of the meal as he would have been. They sat frowning at their plates, unsure of how to handle meat that had to actually be cut with a knife instead of eaten on a bun. Jackson knew Cathy would handle it, but that was something else that concerned him. She seemed incredibly responsible and downright determined to make sure the Casey kids were raised properly, but her views on parenting were very different from his. They’d had so few restrictions under Crystal’s care and even his own; it didn’t seem fair to suddenly rein them in.

  Still, he knew Jonathan and Jessica were difficult children. Many of the temporary nannies had been less than competent, but the unruly behavior of his kids hadn’t helped. Jackson wanted what was best for them—now, he just had to determine exactly what that was.

  His eyes were on the band, supposedly watching them to see if he’d want to hire them again, but his mind was reliving his conversation in the basement with Cathy. He hadn’t expected her to have gone down there, or he might not have taken his shirt off. Still, he had noticed her deep brown eyes drifting down to his chest as they spoke. He didn’t mind, and he rather liked the idea of the fiery Irish woman enjoying the way he looked sans shirt, but he knew it was unprofessional. He’d
acted like a complete ass, yet she’d still proven to be nice to talk to. Heat began to rush to his groin and he adjusted his pants. Maybe I just need to give her more chances to be herself—

  “I don’t like that look on your face,” said a voice at his shoulder.

  Startled, Jackson turned to see Mac standing in his office doorway. “Oh, sorry. My mind was elsewhere.”

  “I hope it was on a beach somewhere, because you might not like what I have to tell you,” the guard replied.

  Jackson rolled his eyes. It was his first full night back without having to worry about the kids, and he didn’t have the energy for drama. “What is it?”

  “We had a guy down by the bar a few minutes ago who started spilling drinks on the other guests and starting fights.”

  This was unusual for Bliss. The guests were not individually chosen like they were at Indulgence, but they usually behaved well enough not to get kicked out. Still, it wasn’t something his guys couldn’t handle. “Okay, so what’s the hitch?”

  “A couple of the guys grabbed him and started taking him toward the door, but he dug in his heels and started screaming that he had a message for you from Alex Babcock. He’s probably full of shit, but I don’t know how many people are aware of your, um, association with him. I thought I’d check with you and see if you wanted to talk to him.”

  Rubbing his temples, Jackson took a moment to think about it. He hadn’t given even a moment’s thought to Babcock and his ridiculous proposals since all this business with Crystal had happened. He’d been busy enough just getting through each day. “If this kid really is Babcock’s little messenger, then I probably won’t be able to get rid of him unless I at least try to deal with him. Bring him up here.”

  Mac left, dragging a young man in by the arm a few minutes later. His short mohawk had been dyed a brilliant red, but it didn’t do much to distract from the thick stud in his nose or his heavy eyeliner.

  “What do you want?” Jackson barked, seated behind his desk with his hands steepled near his chin. He made no move to stand up, shake his hand, or even offer him a drink. This wasn’t a business meeting; as far as he was concerned, this was probably nothing more than another threat—one dressed in a black Clash t-shirt and a chain choker.