by Emerson Rose
“This is Miss Ellie.” Tori holds up a pink and white stuffed elephant aka Ellie, the Dallas Matriarch.
“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Ellie.”
“And I have books. You wanna read me a book?” She looks up at Sasha with begging eyes holding out her favorite book, Frog and Toad are Friends.
“We have to finish giving Sasha a tour, and you need a bath. Maybe she will have time when she tucks you in. How about that?”
“Okay,” she says dropping her head and tossing her book onto the bed.
“I’ll read it after your bath, promise,” Sasha says, and Tori perks up.
“So, her closet is in here, the bathroom is through this door, she has a few toys and books in here, but most of her things are downstairs in her playroom.”
“I got a secret room, wanna see?” Tori asks, and Sasha nods. “It’s in the bathroom.”
“It’s a panic room, in case of an emergency,” I add to clarify.
“Isn’t her bedroom panic room enough?”
“It has windows. True panic rooms don’t.”
“Oh.” Her eyebrows shoot up, and she looks away. She thinks this is overboard—anybody who didn’t know what Tori went through would.
In the bathroom, Tori walks to the built-in shelves full of towels and opens it revealing a metal door. “See, cool, huh?”
“Uh, yeah, sure, cool.” Sasha’s lack of enthusiasm is lost on Tori. She presses the code into the security panel, and the door slides open with a whoosh. Inside is a panel with several screens attached showing every room in the house. There’s a small bed on one end, books, toys, and a mini refrigerator.
“How long can you survive in here?”
“Months, maybe a year, depending on how many people there are. The more people, obviously the less time.”
Tori peeks inside and around the corner before pressing the close button on the panel. She doesn’t go in there. She says it’s cool, but she knows what it’s for, and she never wants to have to go inside.
“Okay, that’s that. Let’s move on. Across the hall and down this way is my bedroom,” I say herding them away from the panic room. I open the double doors to my room and flip on the light right inside the door.
“Nothing spectacular, but if you need me, this is where I’ll be.” God, I hope she’ll need me. After that kiss we shared downstairs, I won’t be able to sleep until I’ve been inside her. I was getting some mixed signals at first, but when I had her pressed up against the window, I was pretty sure she was giving me the green light.
“Nothing spectacular, huh? You should see my bedroom… four of them could fit in here.”
“I have a solution to that problem right across the hall,” I say leading her to my favorite spare bedroom in the house. “This will be your room while you’re staying with us. I hope it’s enough of an upgrade for you.” I open the door and cross the room to switch on a light. A soft glow spreads across the elegant room, and Sasha’s eyes tell me she is going to love it.
“This is my sister-in-law’s favorite room in the house. She and her husband always stay in here when they visit.”
“I can see why, it’s breathtaking.” She’s standing right inside the door doing a three-sixty to see the room from every angle. Every spare space is filled with bookshelves, and those shelves are packed with romance novels.
She takes a step forward to look closer at a few of the titles. “Are these all romance novels?”
“Yes, David and Lola, my brother and sister-in-law, spent a summer with us. She loves to read, so I had the shelves installed and filled them with every New York Times best-selling romance book I could find. Zion helped with that part. She liked mom smut, too.”
She turns to face me. “Mom smut? I’m not a mom, and I love romance books.” She crosses her arms over her chest daring me to challenge her, but I know better. Women like Lola, and apparently Sasha, take their romance books seriously.
“I meant no disrespect. I come in peace,” I say holding up my hands. She relaxes her stance, and I see a hint of a smile on her lips.
“Sorry, it’s perfect. I’ll never want to leave, though. I’m warning you, this is a romance junkie’s dream come true.”
Oh, I hope so.
If that’s all it takes for her to stay here forever, I’ll buy her every romance book ever penned.
Sometimes all you need in life is some mom smut.
11
Sasha
Xander’s house is stunning. I’ve never seen anything like it before. It’s the beach house to end all beach houses. I thought surgeons were wealthy, but I had no idea they could be this wealthy. This place had to easily cost a billion dollars to build, and I can’t imagine how much the upkeep costs on a home like this is. Staggering.
We have finished the upstairs part of the tour and are on our way downstairs to see the rest. “I have a cleaning lady coming in tomorrow. She needs to spend some time in Zion’s room which is right here,” he says pointing at a door as we pass.
“Sure, is there anything, in particular, I should have her do?”
“No, she knows where everything is. She’s worked for me for a long time. Her name is Lilly.”
I happen to look down at Victoria and see her roll her eyes. Hmm, maybe she’s not a fan of Lilly? I’ll have to pay attention to that tomorrow.
“This is my playroom!” Victoria yells when the hall opens up into a large open space. A row of thin windows lines the top of the room facing the ocean. They must have been carved into the rock to let in light.
“It’s great. Wow, look at all your toys.” It looks like Toys “R” Us threw up in here. She has enough toys to keep her busy until she goes to high school—karaoke machines, microphone stands, a big screen television, Barbie houses, planes, campers, educational electronic toys, game systems, and on and on.
There’s even a space along the far wall that is like a backyard with a swing set, slide, and a rock wall with artificial turf under it. I guess they don’t have much of a yard what with it being the ocean. This is as close as she gets to playing outside. It’s kind of sad.
“She goes outside, don’t worry. I don’t hold her hostage in here,” Xander says softly when he sees the concern on my face. “She wanted a swing set, and there was no place to put it with everything being sand or rock outside.”
“I get it. I mean it’s great you have enough money to do stuff for her.”
“Yeah, well, only the best for my princess,” he says, watching her pretend play with Barbie and Ken at the dollhouse. “She’s my world. Everything I do, I do for her.”
“That’s sweet, you’re a great dad.”
“It’s no secret that I spoil her, I know. I want to give her the world. I want her to have everything I never had. I want her to know she’s loved.”
“Oh, I have no doubt she knows that. She adores you. You’re her hero, her daddy, her first love. No man will ever measure up to you.”
Xander is the perfect daddy—the kind little girls with shitty daddies dream of, wish for, pray for. He’s the kind of daddy I wanted growing up but never had. God, no wonder I’ve had daddy issues all my life. I’ve been searching for Xander. And now that I’ve found him, I can’t have him because he’s too damn perfect to permanently hook up with an uneducated, unemployed, almost homeless chick like me.
“You’re sweet. That was nice to say, but I know these years will go fast, and I’m doing everything within my power to savor them and make them count. When she’s a teenager, she won’t worship the ground I walk on anymore. She will find some hot football player to give her all the things I give her. She won’t need me.”
“She will always need you, and no stupid, adolescent football player could make her feel as special as you do. I guarantee it. You’re the shit to her, and you always will be.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, honey.”
“I’m tired.”
“Are you ready for b
ed?” he asks with concern in his tone.
“Uh-huh.” She stands and weaves her way through the toys back to us.
“The theatre room and the gym are right through there,” he says pointing to a hall on the opposite end of the room. “That’s it for this level.”
“Great, thank you both for showing me around.”
“You’re welcome. Come on, bug, let’s get you to bed.” We spend the next half hour bathing Victoria and hunting down a clean pair of jammies. I notice her hamper is overflowing—it doesn’t look like Xander has been doing laundry. I make a mental note to work on that in the morning.
When she’s in a pink unicorn nighty and a thick pair of black wool socks… yes, wool in California—itchy, scratchy, wool—I read her a story, and she’s asleep before it’s over. I don’t know if she’s afraid of the dark, so I leave her bathroom light on as well as a small lamp next to the bed. It has an unusually dim light bulb in it that leads me to believe she uses it for a nightlight.
Xander excused himself when we began reading, but when I step into the hall, he is standing right there. “Shit, you scared me,” I say with a jump.
“I forgot to tell you to leave her light on, but I see you figured it out on your own.”
“That I did. I don’t like the dark myself.”
“She likes the door open.” He leans in close so he can reach around me and push it open wide. “Nightmares,” he says by way of explanation.
“Of course.” He’s close, so close I can feel his warm breath on my neck, and it’s affecting me, a lot. I begin to step away, but he follows me in what I am learning is his trademark you’re not going anywhere move.
“What are her nightmares about?” My voice trembles, I can hardly get the words out. I don’t want to talk about the dark or nightmares. I want to turn my face a fraction of an inch and let him kiss me as he did earlier. But I can’t, I won’t. The only thing a fling with Xander will bring is heartache for me and confusion for Victoria.
“Her mother and the men who helped kidnap her. Why are you afraid of the dark?” His voice is husky and suggestive—it’s unsettling and doesn’t match his words. This is a conversation that should be happening across a desk in an office, not cheek to cheek breathing heavy in the dim hallway outside his daughter’s bedroom.
“I, uh, I had some bad experiences, I guess you could say.” I try again to move away, and again he moves with me. He places his hands gently on my hips, and I make it a point not to look at him.
“Did someone hurt you, Sasha?” Now his voice is clear with a layer of anger that is a little frightening.
“No, it’s nothing, just kid stuff, you know,” I lie. His warm, strong hands slide up my hips to my waist.
“You’re lying,” he whispers in my ear, and I frown.
“I am not. Who do you think you are calling me a liar?” I say pushing him away and storming toward the door of the room he assigned to me.
He’s right behind me, though, and grabs my upper arm to turn me around. “Sasha, don’t walk away from me.” His words are harsh, and the anger he expressed a moment ago is amplified.
I look at his hand holding my arm and then at him. “Take your hand off of me.”
He releases me right away, and his face softens. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I apologize, but you were trembling, and I hoped you would be honest about what happened to you.”
“Nothing happened to me.”
He presses his lips together in a straight line and tilts his head to the side in a come on now, Sasha look.
“Okay, so something happened, but I don’t want to talk about it. I hardly know you.” A muscle in his jaw twitches, but his eyes are filled with concern.
“I can respect that. When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here for you.”
“What if I’m never ready?”
“You will be, someday. Everybody needs to talk about what scares them. It’s the only way to get over it.” I happen to disagree with him one hundred percent on this, but I don’t say anything because we will never be anything more than employer and employee, and he doesn’t need to know about my past.
“Sure.” I semi-agree with him so that he will let me go to bed. Please, God, let this door have a lock on it. “I’m really tired, and I want to go to sleep.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and drags his finger along my jaw to my lips where he caresses my bottom lip. Then he suddenly leans forward and presses a quick kiss to my mouth and backs away. “I’ll see you bright and early in the morning. I run at 4:30 a.m., and I like a cup of coffee when I get back. Tori is awake by 6:00 a.m., and she likes to eat right away. She also has meds she takes every morning, but I’ll show those to you tomorrow.”
“Do you get up that early on the weekends, too?”
“Yes.”
My eyebrows pop up. “Wow.”
“What?”
“I don’t know, that just seems pretty ridged and… and early as hell.” He laughs, but I’m serious. I like sleeping in on the weekends, but I suppose I can give it up for two weeks.
“Rigidity is a good thing, Sasha. Discipline and routine breed success.” Again the words and his sexy tone do not match.
“Maybe so, but there’s a lot to be said for flexibility and spontaneity, too,” I say batting my eyelashes. I turn around quickly and slip into my bedroom closing and locking the door in one motion. Two can play that game.
Sometimes life is hard, and sometimes it’s soft.
12
Xander
I should be sleeping, but knowing Sasha is right across the hall is keeping me up in more ways than one. We never had time to get her things tonight which got me to thinking I wonder what she’s sleeping in, which got me to thinking maybe she would like to borrow a shirt of mine to sleep in which got me hard as hell.
Now I can’t knock on her door to offer her a shirt because I have a boner as big as my arm. Not that I’m embarrassed about said boner, but because I don’t want to pressure her anymore. When she resisted on two occasions, I thought it would be a good idea to look over her background check, and it cleared a few things up.
Sasha is indeed from Minneapolis born to Kianna and Theodore Rivers. They were a simple, low-income family until Theo decided to dip out when Sasha was nine leaving her mother to raise her alone. They struggled for years barely getting by until Sasha was old enough to get a job working part-time. Abandonment issues. I’ve been with plenty of women who were dealing with this problem, none of which I gave a damn about.
I’m the king of wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am one-night stands, casual encounters, bathroom bangs, and Mile High Club conquests. I have to be. I don’t bring strangers into my home or my life after what happened to Tori.
Sasha is a very rare and unique exception. I need her to be Tori’s nanny. We need her. But I also want her. I want her in my bed, in my arms, in my kitchen making coffee, anywhere I can have her, and that spooks me. I don’t like wanting things that I’m not sure I can have, and there aren’t many things I can’t have. I’m at the top of my game professionally. I’m the best plastic surgeon in the United States, people come from everywhere to be able to say Dr. Xander Sullivan did my augmentation or Dr. Xander Sullivan saved my face from disfigurement, he’s a god.
I want for nothing materialistic, but there’s always been a nagging feeling that something’s missing in my life. Now I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that missing thing is Sasha. She is special, unique, sassy, gorgeous, smart, and whether she knows it or not, she’s great with kids—my kid in particular.
I close the background report and slide my laptop onto the bed next to me with a sigh and look down at the tent between my legs. I could rub it out easily enough, but I’d much rather go across the hall and have the person who caused my problem solve it. Not to mention, I sleep with my door open, and that would be rather awkward if either Tori or Sasha came in.
I opt for a cold shower instead and keep the faith that slow and steady wi
ll win this race with Sasha. It’s what I would want for my daughter. I hope and pray that whomever Tori gets involved with when she’s an adult will have the same mindset and ability to be patient.
I switch off the lamp and drift off in the dark thinking about what I would do if I ever caught the men who hurt my baby.
They aren’t relaxing, sleep-inducing thoughts, and I’m pretty sure they are the reason for the realistic nightmare I have that wakes me three hours later. I open my eyes and bolt upright in bed. Two sets of frightened eyes are staring back at me.
“Daddy, you okay?” Tori says crawling into my sweaty lap.
“I heard you yelling,” Sasha says explaining her presence in my bedroom at 2:00 a.m.
“I’m sorry,” I pant and wrap my arms around Tori kissing the top of her head. “Bad dream.”
Tori reassures me with a pat on the chest. “Like me?”
“I guess so, princess. Everybody has a bad dream once in a while.”
“Was it the bad men?”
“No, it was more of a bad feeling.”
“Ohhh, yep, I have that one, too. Do you, Sasha?”
“Sometimes, yes.”
“Well, I’m fine now, I promise. Let’s get you back into bed, all right?”
“Aww, Daddy, can’t I sleep here with you? I’ll make sure the bad dreams don’t get in.”
“That’s very sweet of you, but you should sleep in your bed.”
“But you sleep with me when I have a bad dream.”
“True, but you’re a little princess, and I’m the Big Bad Wolf. I don’t need protecting.”
Sasha snorts and wraps her arms around her middle. “What? You don’t agree?”
“No, sure, Big Bad Wolf… whatever.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean you sounded more like Little Red Riding Hood a couple of seconds ago. Let her comfort you, don’t be so chauvinistic.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Little Red Riding Hood? Harsh. I look at Tori whose eyes are darting back and forth between Sasha and me. “All right,” I say slowly. “You can stay, but you better cast a no nightmare spell, okay?”