His Every Need

by Terri L. Austin

  Allie knocked on the door and leaned into the room. “Sorry to bother you again.”

  He turned to her and smiled. “No bother.” She looked worried. She always did after a go-round with her family. They put too much on her, expected more than they should. Her father seemed something of a cockup since Allie’s mother died, and it all fell on her slender shoulders. “Want to take a walk?”

  He held out his hand. As she moved forward, he watched the slight sway of her hips, her pretty, long legs. Even her sandal-clad feet were lovely, the tips painted pale pink to match her dress. He obviously needed to get laid. Badly.

  She placed her hand in his, and they walked through the French doors and around the side of the house toward the roses. “I take it things didn’t go well with your father?” He wove his fingers with hers as they made their way to the stone path.

  “How can you tell?”

  He glanced down at her. “What happened?”

  “He spent the night with Karen. She was still there this morning, barely dressed, and he was making after-sex pancakes. He wants Brynn home today.”

  He led her to a shaded bench. She sat next to him and blew out a breath. “Brynn doesn’t want to go back. She doesn’t like Karen, and after seeing her wearing my father’s T-shirt, I don’t like her either.”

  “It’s where Brynn belongs, love. At home with your father.”

  “What if she runs away again?”

  Trevor slid his arm across the back of the bench and pressed her head to his shoulder. She felt rather nice there. And her hair smelled fresh and citrusy. He rested his cheek on top of it. “Well, I wish I had some words of wisdom for you. But you’ve talked to your father, you’ve played mother to your sister, even though that’s not your job. And you’ve attempted numerous times to save Monica from being an idiot.”

  Allie lifted her head and glowered at him. “Thanks for the wrap-up. I know what I’ve done, but none of that has worked. What am I supposed to do now?”

  “How about nothing?” He stroked his thumb along her bare shoulder.

  She placed her hand on his thigh and twisted her body toward him. “I’m not following. What does that mean? I can’t just sit around and twiddle my thumbs.” When he opened his mouth to speak, she pointed a finger at him. “And I don’t want to hear about twiddling your dork.”

  He scoffed. She knew him too well.

  “Second of all, I can’t just do nothing. I’m not a do-nothing type of girl. I’m a fix-it type of girl.”

  Trevor nodded and gathered a handful of her hair. He ran his fingers down the length of it, released it, and started the process all over again. “All right then. Fix it.”

  “Yes, that’s what I’m talking about.” She patted his leg. “How?”

  “First—and this is the important part, darling, so pay attention—you must have a proper magic wand. Then, you wave it over your disgruntled family…”

  She slapped his thigh. “You’ve got nothing? No ideas, no magic bullet, nada?”

  “You see what a roaring success I’ve had with my own family.”

  She pressed her lips together. “Point taken.”

  “Maybe things will work themselves out.”

  “Uh-huh. When was the last time that happened?”

  “There’s always a first time for everything, love.”

  With her mouth pulled to one side, she peered up at him. “By the way, thanks for my car.” She leaned toward him and kissed his cheek.

  “You’re welcome. And it’s still ugly.”

  “This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you,” she said. “Not completely.”

  “Understood.”

  ***

  Allie strolled back to the house. She needed to tell Brynn it was time to go home. She left Trevor on the bench and a smile crept over her lips when she thought about him sitting next to her, stroking her. He was always touching her, rubbing his hand across her shoulder, twisting a strand of hair around his finger—very tactile, and she liked that.

  As she stepped into the hallway outside of Trevor’s office, she ran into Mags. “Is he in a better mood or still shirty?”

  “If shirty means cranky, then I think he’s better. He’s out in the garden.”

  Mags’s brows lifted. “Really? Doesn’t he have important work to do?”

  “I don’t know, but we spent the past thirty minutes outside.”

  “Well done. Now, let’s reconvene in the foyer in twenty minutes. We have so much to buy.”

  She sashayed toward the main part of the house. Allie shook her head and watched those hips glide from side to side as Trevor’s mother walked away. Maybe Mags could teach her how to do that. It was an art form.

  Allie found Brynn in the kitchen, rolling pie crust with Mrs. Hubert. Hands on her hips, the older woman watched Brynn’s movements with a critical eye.

  “You need to build some muscles, girl. Put some elbow grease into it.”

  Brynn stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth and pressed down, rolling the dough, making it thinner.

  “Brynn, can I talk to you for a second?” Allie asked.

  Mrs. Hubert glanced up and nodded. “Go on now. We’ll make an omelet tomorrow.”

  Brynn grinned and wiped her hands on a white dish towel. “’Kay, thanks.”

  Allie followed Brynn out of the kitchen and into the foyer. “What’s up, Al?”

  “Dad wants you home tonight.” Allie winced as Brynn stomped her foot.

  “What? That’s not fair. I want to stay here.”

  Well, Brynnie was certainly breaking out of her shell. She would have run to her room and sulked a week ago. Today, she behaved like a toddler. Allie reached out to pat her shoulder, but Brynn slapped her hand away.

  “So Monica gets to stay here, but I have to go? Why? Why does she do the bad stuff and I get punished? I’m making straight As, you know. Maybe I didn’t mention that?”

  “You did mention it, and you’re not being punished, Brynn. You have to live at home and go to school. Just like everyone else.”

  “At least I go to school. What does Monica do all day? She’ll get to lounge around by the pool and take tea with you and Trevor. I want to take tea.”

  “There’ll be no tea taking, okay? I have a feeling Mon’s not going to be here for long.”

  Brynn shook her head. “This is so unfair.”

  “I know, honey. If I could keep you here with me, I would.”

  She frowned at Allie. “Really?”

  Allie pulled her into a hug. “Really.” When she kissed the top of her sister’s head, Brynn didn’t pull away this time. “Still want to go find a dress for the wedding?”

  “Uh, yeah,” she mumbled against Allie’s shoulder.

  “Mags wants to leave in twenty minutes.”

  Brynn pulled out of Allie’s arms. “I need to go wash the flour off my hands.” She spun on her heel and ran up the steps.

  Chapter 17

  “What about this one?” Brynn ran her hand over a silver metallic cocktail dress with a plunging neckline.

  “I think it’s amazing. If you were thirty.” Allie took the dress and hung it back on the rack.

  “Darlings, how about this?” Mags held up a red satin dress by the hanger. It was ruched on one side and would barely cover Brynn’s underage butt.

  “Absolutely not. That’s totally inappropriate. Brynn’s only fifteen, Mags.”

  “No, sweetest, it’s for me.”

  It was totally inappropriate for someone Mags’s age as well. Allie took the dress and handed it to the hovering saleswoman. “We are shopping for Brynn today, not you. You have bought approximately sixty-two dresses in the last few days.” Trying to keep these two on track was next to impossible.

  “You
’re a spoilsport, Allison.” Mags jutted her lower lip.

  “Yeah, I’m a real buzzkill. Now, let’s try to remember why we’re here, ladies. Brynn needs a dress.” She turned and looked at her sister. “An age-appropriate dress, one that hopefully will not break my bank account or get you arrested for indecent exposure.”

  “Allison, my pet, don’t be ridiculous. You’re not paying.” Mags whisked up a glass of sparkling cider from the tray. “Nigel is.”

  Brynn grinned as she sipped from the champagne flute. “This is so cool. I want to shop here all the time.”

  Brynn was headed for a rough landing once she collided with reality. This wasn’t the real world. This was like Disneyland for really rich British people or high rollers. Eventually, she and Brynn would return to their normal lives. Their normal, Trevor-less lives. Allie’s landing was going to be bumpy too.

  Mags grabbed dresses left and right while Allie made herself comfortable in what was becoming a very familiar chair. Then Mags thrust an armful of garments at the saleslady. “Fashion show time. Try them all on, Brynn, my pet, and then come out so Allie and I can see.”

  A few minutes later when Brynn stepped out in a red halter dress, the realization that her baby sister was almost grown hit Allie over the head. In a couple of years, she’d be off to college, their dad would probably be remarried, and Monica would be a jaded twentysomething. Where did Allie fit in?

  “No, I don’t like the red. Allison?”

  Allie reined in her thoughts. She stared at Brynn then scrunched her nose. “No, not that one.”

  “Next,” Mags said and sipped her sparkling cider. She winced slightly. “Not the same as Dom, is it darling?”

  “Thanks for doing all this, Mags. Brynn’s loving every minute of it. Sometimes she gets lost in all of Monica’s drama.”

  “Well, I never had any daughters of my own. Unless you count my three stepdaughters, and I don’t. This is quite fun.”

  A few hours later, Brynn had narrowed it down to four dresses—one deep blue, two black, and one white. She lined them all up on a rack and with her hands on her hips, stared at them. “What do you two think? I just can’t decide.”

  Mags raised her brows. “No, it’s quite impossible. We should just get them all.”

  “Mags, no,” Allie protested.

  But she couldn’t be heard over Brynn’s whoop of excitement. The girl ran and threw her arms around Mags’s shoulders. “Thank you so much.”

  “No, Mags, it’s too much,” Allie said.

  “Nonsense. I’ve decided to wear seven dresses on the big day. Four seems almost paltry.” She smiled at the saleswoman. “Ring them up, dearest.” Then she walked to the front of the store, leaving Allie and Brynn alone.

  “I can’t believe I get four dresses.” Brynn grinned and took another sip of cider. “I’m so excited.”

  “And ready for your next dance. Or three.”

  “She’s so nice, Allie. When you and Trevor get married—”

  Allie held up her hand. “Whoa, what? Trevor and I aren’t getting married, Brynn. I have no idea where you came up with that.”

  “Sorry, Al. I didn’t mean anything.” Brynn looked a little wounded.

  “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. But Trevor and I aren’t a couple.”

  “You guys live together. I know you don’t really work for him, Al.”

  Allie scrambled to come up with something. “But I do. I’m his assistant.” It sounded false to her ears, but she was sticking with it.

  Brynn looked at the floor. “I’m not a little kid. You don’t need to keep lying to me. It’s kind of insulting.” Pressing her hand to her stomach, she trailed after Mags.

  Allie glanced up and saw her reflection in the three-way mirror. She was such a liar. But how could she admit the truth when she could hardly look herself in the eye?

  “Darling, come along,” Mags called from the front of the shop.

  In the limo, Allie rode to the mansion in silence as Brynn and Mags chatted about the wedding. Staring out the window, she watched the throngs of people walk along the strip, mostly tourists with cameras and phones in hand, but some had the weary air of crash-and-burn gamblers. She could relate. Being in debt to Trevor made her feel like one of those desperate souls who risked their last chip on the roll of the dice. And came up snake eyes.

  “You’re very quiet, dearest.”

  Allie pasted on her best customer service smile. “No, I’m fine. Now, we have to think about shoes for Brynn.”

  Mags slapped a hand over her chest. “How silly of me to have forgotten.” And she was off, discussing the merits of various designer shoes.

  Allie stared out the window once more.

  As soon as they reached the house and stepped inside, Monica, who’d been gripping the rail on the second floor, pounced on Allie. “Where have you been?” Her hair flew back as she jogged down the stairs. “I’ve been waiting for you for like, hours.”

  Mags patted Allie’s arm as she left the foyer.

  “Hello to you too.” Allie glanced at Brynn. “Get your stuff together and I’ll run you home.”

  “Seriously, Al,” Monica said. “I need to talk to you.”

  “So talk.” She watched Brynn meander toward the staircase.

  Monica threw her hands up in the air. “My life is shit, Al.”

  Yeah, this was familiar. Crisis time. She turned her attention to Mon. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Never mind. You don’t care. You’re too busy hanging out with Mags.” She reached out and tapped on the suit of armor, causing the hollow ring to fill the room. “This is your life now.”

  Allie’s well of patience had run dry. She’d spent the afternoon with two adolescents, Brynn and Mags, and she’d had her fill. “I’m not going to beg you, Monica. Tell me if you want, but if you don’t, I need to drive Brynn home.”

  Monica’s brow rose. Usually, Allie would coax and cajole her sister into spilling her guts. Then she’d try to fix it, give advice. Look how well that turned out. No, this time, she was going to treat Monica like an adult. She was going to follow Trevor’s advice and do nothing.

  “Don’t you even care that I had a huge fight with Brad? You’re probably glad about that. You never liked him and you don’t even know him.”

  Allie’s eyes grew wide. “Why are you mad at me?”

  Monica stepped toward her. “You live with Trevor now, so you don’t care about the rest of us. You have designer clothes and go shopping all day with his mom. I heard Frances say he fixed your car. You’re just fucking him so he’ll buy you shit. You’re a gold digger.” She spun and ran up the stairs. A few seconds later, Allie heard a door slam.

  God, she wished her mom were here to deal with this. She sighed. No, that wasn’t true; Allie wished her mom were still alive because she missed her so damn much.

  ***

  Later that evening, when she stepped unnoticed into the drawing room, she was ten minutes late. She caught Trevor checking his watch, a look of irritation on his face. He probably just didn’t want to be alone with his parents one minute longer than he had to.

  Nigel, drink in hand, held court next to the fireplace. “Shot an eighty-two today, Trev. I dare you to beat that score, Son. We should get a round in sometime this week.”

  “I have a little habit I perform during the day. It’s called work.”

  “Nonsense, dearest, you work too hard.” Mags sipped on something pink and, when she lifted her head, noticed Allie. “Oh, tell him.” She waved Allie into the room. “Tell my son he works too hard.”

  Allie rubbed her hands along her silk-covered hips and walked toward them. She felt like a fraud. She needed to remember she wasn’t here as a guest or as a part of the family. She was the hired sex help. “Sorry, Mags, but
it’s not my place to tell Trevor anything.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Let me get you a drink, Allison.” Nigel mixed up a cosmo and handed it to her.

  Allie felt the weight of Trevor’s gaze as she sat on the sofa. “I don’t know if Monica will be down. She was pretty upset this afternoon.”

  “She’ll come around,” Mags said. “I’ll check on her later. By the way, rose is a very lovely color on you, Allison. We’ll keep it in mind when we go shopping tomorrow.”

  Allie felt her cheeks heat and took a deep, uncomfortable breath. “Okay.” Such a fraud. She shouldn’t be shopping with Mags, making friends with his mother. When would she get it through her head that this was all temporary? And as soon as Allie got used to it, Trevor would get bored, and she’d be back in her North Las Vegas house with its peeling paint and whiny refrigerator, wondering what happened.

  Trevor stalked over to the sofa and sat down next to her, almost on top of her, completely invading her space. She knew he didn’t like being ignored and would force her to acknowledge him. He was so damn pushy. That’s one of the things she loved about him.

  What? Loved? Who said anything about love? No, not loved—liked. One of the things she liked about him.

  “I thought you bought a dress already?” He stretched his arm along the back of the sofa, his fingers skimming her shoulder.

  She fought against pulling away from him—fought against resting her head on his shoulder, the way she had earlier in the garden. “Mags decided against that one.”

  “How was Brynn?” he asked, angling toward her, his face almost touching hers.

  “She didn’t want to go home and was freely sharing that opinion about every two minutes. But she and Dad had a long talk.”

  His eyes swept over her face. “She’ll be all right, darling. What about you? Did you and your father work things out?” The concern in his voice melted her heart.