Blake Decker needed this like a brain aneurysm. He had back-to-back appointments stacked up like planes waiting to land and was due in court after lunch for a high-profile celebrity client whose wife had been caught cheating by the paparazzi. Mia couldn’t have picked a worse day to do a disappearing act.
In the elevator, he glanced down at Casey. “You don’t need to help look for her.”
“No. But two pairs of eyes are better than one.”
When the elevator reached the ground floor, the doors whooshed open and he held out a hand, indicating she should precede him. They hurried across the lobby of the luxurious high-rise building and walked outside, then scanned up and down the sidewalk, looking for a glimpse of Mia.
“Do you see her?” he asked.
Casey stood on tiptoe, trying to see around the pedestrians strolling past. “That green sweatshirt she was wearing will stand out, but I don’t see it.”
Blake wondered how this day had gone so horribly wrong. Technically, things had started south when Mia came to live with him a couple weeks ago. Since then his days and nights had been a nightmare of calls from school regarding tardiness and skipped classes, of not knowing where the kid was half the time, and of wondering what she was doing while he was at work.
He was a lawyer. He was good at it and understood the law. As his niece’s legal guardian, he was responsible for her behavior and liable for her mistakes. The buck stopped here. His life hadn’t been this screwed up since he caught his wife sleeping with his best friend.
He looked down at Casey. “I appreciate the gesture, but she’s my problem. I’ll find her.”
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
The gesture was definitely a gift, because she had turned down his offer of a job and wasn’t on the clock. Another way his day had gone south. He wasn’t accustomed to losing a negotiation.
He studied the shadows in her big hazel eyes. Casey was an attractive blonde with silky hair cut in choppy layers that skimmed her shoulders—messy, straight, sharp, sexy layers. And shoulders. The white sundress showed off bare arms that were as tanned and toned as her great legs. Her sandals revealed toes painted a vivid shade of red.
What he could see told him she kept in shape and that shape was better than good. But it was nothing compared to her mouth. He could hardly keep himself from staring at her full lips. They were no doubt a result of an amazing gift from her gene pool, because she didn’t seem like the cosmetic injection type. And the deep dimples in her cheeks flashed when she was annoyed, which made him wonder how they’d look with a smile, which so far he hadn’t seen. She was no-nonsense, no pretense, no games. No compunction about turning down his job offer. Yet here she was, pounding the pavement with him.
“Why do you feel the need to help?” he asked.
“I sent her out of the room. I feel responsible for her taking off. She’s obviously upset—”
His cell phone rang and he recognized the office number. “Hi, Rita. I know I’m late.” He listened to the list of appointments, although it was a waste of breath. He already knew his day was screwed thanks to Mia. “Look, something’s come up. I need you to cancel my appointments and reschedule.” He glanced at his watch. “With luck I’ll make it to court. If not, I’ll let you know so Leo can fill in. You’re a lifesaver, Ree. Thanks.”
“You’re a busy man,” Casey commented.
He nodded. “My niece picked the worst possible time to crank up the rebellion.”
“Like I was saying,” she said pointedly, “Mia’s obviously upset.”
“How can you tell? What you saw was normal for her. Since I took her in, sarcastic, abrasive and belligerent have been the full range of her disposition.” He looked up and down the street without spotting the familiar green sweatshirt. “And I think it’s safe to add unpredictable to that list.”
“It’s not really a surprise, given the instability in her life. We’re all a product of our environment, Mr. Decker—”
“Call me Blake.”
She nodded, then continued. “I sent her out of the room and that makes me feel a certain responsibility for her taking off. The least I can do is help you find her.”
The seriously stubborn look on her face told him he couldn’t talk her out of this, and truthfully, he was grateful for the company. “Okay. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
As they walked and talked, her gaze scanned left and right, as if they were on patrol. He remembered a detail of her résumé, one that made her come-and-get-me red-painted toes even more intriguing. “Miss Davis said you were in the army.”
“That’s right.”
He waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. “She thought your background would make you a good fit for Mia. Strong and smart enough to handle her.”
“Ginger is wrong.”
He studied the tension in her shoulders and mouth. He knew the basics of her military experience but had a feeling there was a sad story in there somewhere. She had the sexiest lips this side of heaven and the saddest eyes he’d ever seen. Sad stories and broken dreams were his stock-in-trade. He’d lived his own and made a fortune on other people’s. This woman touched a nerve with him and that hadn’t happened for a long time. It wasn’t a good thing.
So maybe it was for the best that Casey had refused to work for him. On the other hand, the more time he spent with her, the more convinced he became that her boss was right about her being strong enough to deal with Mia.
Down the street from the corporate office of the Nanny Network, they stopped at a traffic light. Fashion Show Mall was across the street, and there was still no sign of Mia.
“Maybe we should call the police,” Blake said.
“We will if we have to but let’s keep looking.”
“Any ideas where we should look?”
Casey looked at him, her expression part wryness, part pity. She nodded her head toward the upscale shopping center. “If I wanted to lose myself, that’s where I’d go. Retail therapy works wonders.”
He nodded. “I see the ‘duh’ look in your eyes. I believe I already confessed to knowing zero about a twelve-year-old girl.”
“And what makes you think I do?”
“You were twelve once and you’re female. That puts you one up on me.” The look in her eyes said it was a long time ago. “Little girls are way beyond my range of experience.”
“Big girls are more your style?”
“I like women, if that’s what you’re asking. But my style? I don’t have one.” He shook his head. “For the record, I don’t think any man understands them. Young, old or anywhere in between, women are the eighth wonder of the world and as mysterious as the elusive commodity of luck in this town.”
She put a hand to her forehead, shading her eyes from the sun. “I’m not sure how to respond to that, so I won’t. But I say we go check out the mall.”
“Okay.”
After crossing at the light, they followed the sidewalk and entered the mall at the food court on the third level. He shadowed Casey when she headed for the escalator. That was when he realized she moved pretty fast for a woman who wasn’t all that tall. She was maybe a couple inches over five feet. Blake was six feet two and had a long stride, but when they got off on a lower floor, she had no trouble keeping up with him. They marched past Nordstrom, Dillard’s, Neiman Marcus, Saks Fifth Avenue and every small, upscale store in between. On the first level they did the same thing, without spotting Mia.
In the center of the mall he stopped to look around. “I think maybe it’s time to call the police.”
She was studying a graphic of the mall’s layout. “Okay.”
He started to pull out his cell when she took off. “I thought we were getting the cops involved.”
“We are. In a manner of speaking.”
Blake trailed after her to the mall security office. Inside there was a twentysomething guy in navy trousers and a light blue shirt with an official mall security patc
h on the sleeve. Blake saw a familiar girl in a green sweatshirt sitting by the desk.
“Mia.” He let out a long breath, then explained that she was his niece and he was her legal guardian.
Rent-a-cop gave Mia an unsympathetic look. “She was caught stealing makeup.”
The Bonnie Parker wannabe had been gone for what? Twenty minutes? A half hour tops? It hadn’t taken her long to get in trouble. Probably he should be grateful that she wasn’t good enough at being bad to get away with it, but that was small comfort.
Blake knew the law, but everyone had a specialty and criminal law wasn’t his. When all else failed, it couldn’t hurt to bluff. “I’m guessing that pressing charges would be more costly and time-consuming than it’s worth. What if I give you my word that you won’t see her in here again?” He looked at Mia, who was trying to look sullen, but a little bit of fright leaked through. “And there will be consequences for her at home.” That part was really a bluff, because he had no idea what those consequences would be.
“Okay.” The security guy frowned at Blake’s niece. “You got off easy, kid.”
Blake nodded. “Thanks. I’ll make sure she doesn’t do anything like this again.”
Right after he flapped his arms and landed on the moon, because he had no clue how to keep that promise.
With Mia between them, Blake and Casey walked back toward the mall entrance.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Mia said when they passed the restrooms.
Was this another escape attempt? Could he trust her not to take off again?
As if Casey could read his thoughts, she said, “I’ll check it out.”
She disappeared into the ladies’ room and was back in a moment. “Clear,” she said.
Mia did a dramatic eye roll but held back any sarcastic comment as she went in.
Blake studied the door that said Women. “Maybe I can get her one of those electronic surveillance devices for her ankle.”
“You’re not very good at this, are you?”
He sighed. “You have no idea how badly I’d like to say ‘Duh.’ That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I freely admit that I need help. It’s why I tried to hire you in the first place.”
She nodded without saying anything, but it was almost as if he could see the conflict raging inside her. Doubts darted across her face and highlighted the uncertainty in her eyes, but finally she met his gaze.
“Do you still want me to work for you?” she asked.
“Is the pope Catholic? Do bears go anywhere they want in the woods?”
A half smile curved up the corners of her mouth. “Is that a yes?”
“That’s as close to a yes as I can get without begging,” he confirmed.
“Okay. I’ll accept the position on a trial basis. If it doesn’t work out—”
He touched a finger to her lips to silence her. “Think positive.”
That was his plan and he wasn’t an especially positive kind of guy. However, he was positive that brushing her lips just now had made him want to explore them even further. That was pretty stupid, after she’d finally agreed to work for him.
Still, considering his history with women, stupid was pretty much in character for him. Since his marriage imploded, he’d learned to expect the worst, because that way he never got blindsided.
Right now he chose to hope for the best with his new nanny, because he really needed her.
Chapter Two
Casey stood at the door to Blake Decker’s penthouse, located at One Queensridge Place, and fervently wished for a decision do-over. He’d said he specialized in divorce law, and judging by his living arrangements, there was an obscene amount of money in marriages gone bad. The lobby of this luxury building had all dark wood walls, crystal chandeliers and a grand staircase with intricate wrought-iron railings. One look at the expansive marble floor gave her the most wicked desire to slip on a pair of Rollerblades and race through the building, shouting “Cowabunga” at the top of her lungs.
She pressed the button beside the door, but Blake already knew who was there because security at the front gate had called to announce her.
“I’m glad to see you,” he said after opening up.
“Hi.” She wheeled her small weekend bag into the marble foyer, which mirrored the elegance of the building’s lobby.
He frowned at her luggage. “Where’s the rest of your bags?”
“We agreed to a trial basis. If it doesn’t work out, why waste time and energy moving a lot of stuff?”
“So much for the power of positive thinking.”
Casey used to be an optimist, but not anymore. “Never test the depth of the water with both feet.”
“Right.” He picked up her suitcase. “I guess you want to see where you’ll be staying.”
“Okay.” She couldn’t help noticing how wide his shoulders were as she followed. Nice butt, too. “Where’s Mia?”
“In her room.” He glanced back. “Doing homework.”
“She’s in summer school.” It wasn’t a question. Casey was taking classes, too, trying to finish up her degree as quickly as possible.
“I met with a school counselor, who recommended it. To keep her busy and out of trouble. Albeit without much success. Also, because her educational background is a little sketchy, what with her unstable upbringing. They want to see where she is academically before the term starts in September.”
“A good idea.”
She followed him past a living room with light green walls and wide crown molding and furnished with several love seats and a couple of chairs arranged in a grouping designed to facilitate conversation. Next was the kitchen-family room combination. There was a built-in cherrywood entertainment center with a plasma TV almost large enough for a movie theater. An L-shaped, overstuffed couch sat in front of it. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered an expansive view of the Las Vegas Valley, including a golf course and several hotel-casino resorts nearby.
As they continued walking past rooms, Casey admired the penthouse’s understated elegance, cloud-soft carpet and recessed lighting, which showed off every detail to perfection.
“How big is this place?” she asked.
“Six thousand square feet, not counting the terrace.” He looked down at her and grinned. “Give or take a square foot or two.”
“Do you provide a GPS unit to your employees?”
“If you’re as smart as Ginger Davis says, you’ll learn your way around in no time.” He walked into a room at the farthest corner of the penthouse. “Welcome to your new home, sweet home. I think you’ll be comfortable.”
She looked around at the oak armoire and matching dresser with a multitude of drawers, large and small. A floral comforter and a plethora of pink, green and maroon throw pillows covered the bed. To the right was a dressing area with a walk-in closet and a bathroom, which technically made this a suite. Chalk up one for her boss, the divorce lawyer.
“What do you think?”
She nodded. “It’ll do.”
“Good.” He set her single suitcase on the tufted bench at the end of the bed. “It won’t take you long to unpack. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you. In my study.”
“Okay.”
They retraced their steps, and somewhere beyond the family room, he turned right and entered another room. The desk, computer, and built-in bookcases holding big, fat, boring-looking books clued her in to the fact that this must be his study. Looked like an office to her, but when you had enough money, it probably earned you the right to call it whatever you wanted.
“Have a seat,” he said, indicating the two leather barrel-shaped chairs in front of the desk.
Casey picked the one on the right and sat. “First of all, you should know that I need two evenings a week off and an afternoon on the weekend.”
“How about one weeknight?” He was still standing on the other side of the desk. Maybe he was striking an intimidating pose.
The thought almost made
Casey smile. A five-star general in the United States Army was intimidating. Blake Decker? Not so much. As long as she ignored the gleam of amusement in his blue eyes. Or the smokin’ hot jawline, which could have been carved out of a rugged peak in Red Rock Canyon. He was wearing khaki shorts, a black T-shirt that highlighted impressive muscles in his chest and arms, and flip-flops that might have made him look like the dork Mia had accused him of being. But the kid would be way wrong.
Casey refused to be intimidated. All he had to do was give her even the ghost of a reason and she’d be so out of there.
She cleared her throat and didn’t like the fact that to meet his gaze, her chin rose slightly. It made her look defiant instead of cool. And she so wanted to look cool. Frosty. Emotionally unengaged.
“I need two evenings off,” she said. “I’m taking night classes. It’s not negotiable.”
“That’s a challenge, since negotiating is what I do.”
His slow, challenging grin actually made her world tilt, along with producing a shimmy and shake in her stomach. The reaction was a big, honkin’ clue that she should exercise her escape clause and, well, escape.
“Look, Mr. Decker—”
“I asked you to call me Blake. Remember?”
And how. “Obviously you’re good at what you do and it pays pretty well, or you wouldn’t live in the Parthenon.”
“Excuse me?” If anything, the gleam in his eyes intensified.
“This complex is like a Greek temple with fountains, archways, anatomically correct sculptures and Roman columns.”
“You’re mixing your civilizations,” he pointed out.
“And you’re splitting hairs to distract me,” she countered. “I’ve been working my tail off to get a teaching credential and I’m almost there. Two evenings a week for classes, and either a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, your choice which. Those are my terms. Take it or leave it.”
When she started to stand, he held his palms out in a conciliatory gesture.
“Yes, ma’am. Understood.” He saluted, then sat in the plush desk chair. “Your military is showing.”
The Nanny and Me Page 2