Nicholas Cocker (Cocker Brothers Book 16)

by Faleena Hopkins

  As I’m chewing chicken I pause. “Why do you have to buy them a bracelet to get them to fuck you?”

  “Women everywhere are just dying for someone else to pay their bills. All they have to do is pretend they like you, give you their pussies whenever you want, and soon their rent is covered—if they’re good enough and don’t cause a fuss.”

  Wiping my fingers on the crisp, cloth napkin I lean back, muttering, “You’re making me lose my lunch.”

  With his dirty steak knife he taps my plate. “It’s right there!”

  He cracks up at his own joke and I grit my teeth, glancing to the exit. How easy it would be to get up and walk out of here.

  I ask, “How’s your meal?” to change the subject.

  He shrugs. “I had better last night.”

  “Where’d you eat?”

  “Who?”

  My muscles tense, and I finish off my whiskey.

  He’s smiling to himself, cutting another large bite. “Yeah yeah. So look.” He chews it, making me wait to hear what he wants to say. A big, dramatic swallow and drink of martini later and he finally drops the bomb, “I know why you invited me here. You want my secrets. Not about women. Clearly you think you’re too good for my advice on that subject. About money—you want to know how I do it. But why should I tell you?”

  Sucking something out of my teeth I stare at him. “I made a mistake.”

  He leans forward to hiss, “You young kids think you’re so hot, coming into my world and acting like you have a right to succeed. I breathe the market. I am the market. I can sense when she’s about to give up and make a run for it. I know when she’s gonna drop her panties, too. And she dropped ‘em for just me. You want my secrets? Here’s one. I just got a free meal.” He shoves a big chunk of filet mignon in his sneering mouth.

  I take a drink of whiskey, pop a potato in my mouth and stand up. “Did I say I was buying?”

  He stares at me, stops chewing.

  On that note, I stroll out while whistling. Stopping at the host-stand I warn the manager. “That guy I was with? The one right there.” I point to him as Dane stares back at us. “Watch him. He likes to dine and dash. And he has two of your sterling silver forks in his computer case.”

  Smirking to myself, I walk out.

  CHAPTER 17

  THREE MONTHS AFTER THE FIRE

  M adison

  “Skylar, let Kyle have a turn on the slide!”

  They’re finally taking me seriously after eight months as their nanny. Their parents are extremely wealthy, barely home, and spoil their children out of guilt or distraction. I’m their one example of consistency outside of school where they drive their teachers to hide vodka in their desks, I’m sure of it.

  “He always gets to go!” Skylar whines.

  “Since when?” I counter from a patio chair by their playground while I pet Bucky with one hand, the other checking their grade-school homework.

  “Since all the time!”

  “I do not!”

  Interrupting them I ask, “When are you out here that I’m not? Because if memory serves it’s been raining for two weeks straight.”

  A smart girl, Skylar sighs, “Fine,” and acquiesces the next ride to her younger brother. “But you better have fun, Kyle!”

  With determination he announces, “Oh I will,” as he grabs the railings and whips his little body down the swirling slope, whooping all the while.

  I give her a proud smile even as she crosses her arms like she’s still not happy she had to do that. “It was his fault! He was on the monkey bars while I was sliding! He could’ve come over here, but he didn’t.”

  “And when he did,” I counter with firm patience, “You were very nice in giving him a turn. It’s called sharing. Learn it. Know it. Live it. You’ll have a much easier time making friends.”

  “I have plenty of friends, Madison!”

  She secretly likes my keeping her in line though. I can tell by how often she tests me. They want to trust me to be in charge so they can be kids and feel safe knowing someone who cares about them, and who won’t take their shit, has the reins.

  Bucky’s head swings sharply right, and I glance over to see the sliding glass doors opening. “Mr. Schweis! I didn’t know you were coming home early.” I stand up out of instinct, his presence always intimidating.

  In a gorgeous suit the man of the house smiles and nods to his children, eyes sharp and calculating.

  They wave at him out of duty, “Hi Daddy,” but make no move to run into his arms or anything remotely affectionate. Instead they scramble up the slide, trying to beat each other to the top, a race for who can dominate the other.

  “I was driving past the neighborhood. Thought I’d drop in.”

  “Did it go well?” I ask to be polite.

  Checking his Gucci watch he nods. “It always does.” Sharp eyes flick to the sun and hover for a second, narrowing under the glare. “Nice day for once. Listen, come inside. I want to talk to you.”

  “Sure,” I frown.

  “Don’t fire her, Daddy!”

  Mr. Schweis and I freeze in surprise.

  Skylar has real fear in her eyes.

  He chuckles, “I’m not firing Madison. Don’t worry. This one’s staying.”

  My heart beats fast as I follow him inside their beautiful home, glancing over my shoulder to Skylar who’s watching us. I hated seeing her react like that. I never want them worried they’ll lose me.

  It’s the first time I’ve witnessed for certain how their revolving door of nannies has affected her.

  I’ve worked hard to get them to open up and trust me. It’s worked so well—just the other day they came running out of the school yard when I picked them up, both of them hugging me, so happy to see my face.

  It sure didn’t start out that way.

  His dress shoes scratch across marble as he strolls while rubbing his chin in thought. I’m waiting for him to address his daughter’s outburst but instead he says, “You’ve been doing very well here, Madison. I want you to know that Vera and I are happy with your work. The children seem happier lately.”

  “They do?” I smile, relaxing. “Well, that’s nice to hear.”

  He draws out the word, “Yes,” and as the air stales, he lunges for me, grabs the back of my head and roughly kisses me.

  I shove at his chest, gasp, “Stop it! Stop!” breaking free from unwanted lips.

  He lets me go, turns on his heel and walks to where his keys lie on a gold-plated accent table by the front door. I stare after him as he disappears.

  As the deadbolt clicks into place I wipe my mouth.

  Skylar’s voice comes distant and muffled through the glass, like some sort of nightmare, “Maddie! Bucky’s trying to get inside!”

  My hand lays flat on my chest as I gather my wits. Walking in a daze to the door, I slide it open. Bucky immediately sniffs me, whining quietly. I squat down, petting his head and looking into his sweet eyes to whisper, “Were you trying to save me, buddy?”

  Skylar’s voice floats over, tentative with worry, “He didn’t fire you, did he, Maddie?”

  In slow motion my gaze meets hers.

  I croak, “No, Sky,” clearing my throat to say more firmly, “…he didn’t fire me.”

  “Promise?!”

  I glance over to Kyle at the bottom of the slide, staring at me like he’s waiting for his death sentence, too.

  “He didn’t fire me. Your father told me I’m doing a great job, that’s all.”

  They relax and go back to what they were doing, but this time with no arguments between them. They’re playing on eggshells.

  I glance down to Bucky, give him a pet for his attempt to save me from the darker side of man.

  CHAPTER 18

  M ADISON

  “T he asshole did what?!” Denise shouts, lipstick paused in her rearview mirror.

  Fiddling with her car door lock, I repeat it. “He kissed me next to his framed wedding photos.”

&n
bsp; “When was this?”

  “Three days ago.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I mean, I don’t want to be around him, but I’m fine. He hasn’t showed up since then. Nothing happened. I didn’t let it. I think he was just testing the waters. Which is funny because that’s what Nicholas said he was doing that night. But of course I wanted to kiss him, so that’s a whole different situation.”

  “Nicholas Cocker is not married with two kids, signing your paycheck!” She goes back to applying and mutters, “What a piece of shit this boss of yours is. I want to grab his nuts and twist them until he apologizes.” She drops the tube in her purse and stares at me. “Did you knee him in the nuts?”

  “I pushed him off me, but…”

  “That’s it? Did you tell her?”

  “Mrs. Schweis? No. Not yet.”

  “Madison, you have to tell her!”

  Slumping, I stare out the windshield at a warehouse door as party-goers happily make their way inside, oblivious to the fact that I’m in a moral dilemma. “I’m worried about the kids.”

  “You should be!”

  “Not like that.” I hold her look. “I told you, remember, that they’ve had a string of nannies.”

  “And now we know why!”

  “He didn’t try this for eight months. That’s how long I’ve been working for them. Maybe I’m the first one he did this to? Perhaps it was just an impulse, that he was having a rough day? Is that possible?”

  Denise grabs the steering wheel and cocks her head. “Or maybe he pulled this shit earlier with them. This time he was waiting until you had enough time to bond with those poor kids. That is one fucked-up man. He’s in a position of power. You’re his employee. What a scumbag!”

  “I know. Thankfully I don’t see him often. He works late.”

  “Oh, I bet he does. Works who is the question. What a piece of shit.” She zips her bag. “You ready?” Her glance darts to my boring grey slacks and white blouse. “You’re killing me with this outfit. What are you, a dowdy receptionist from the ‘90s?”

  “You really think I’m going to dress cute when I go to work?”

  Cocking an eyebrow she gets out of the car and I follow, doors automatically shutting behind us. We hear the locks click into place as she reminds me, “You never dressed up before that fucker made his move, so don’t give me that excuse.” She stops walking and digs around in her bag. “Do you have lipstick?” Before I can answer she mutters, “Of course you don’t. Here. This shade might be a little dark for your coloring but who gives a fuck. You’ll be striking.”

  “You mean I’ll get eyeballed for imitating a clown.”

  She hands it over. “Oh, yeah, lipstick is just like putting a ball on your nose.”

  “I meant because I don’t have anything else on. Never mind.” Leaning forward to the compact mirror she holds up, I slide magenta around for a minute, lean back for a better look, surprised. “Not bad. See, my problem is I never know which color to buy. Then I waste a ton of money on fuchsia, coral, and nude that looks like death.”

  “Keep it,” she says with finality, throwing the mirror in her clutch and heading for the door.

  Tucking the gift in my pocket next to my keys and credit card, since I didn’t bring a purse, I follow my stylish friend into the first party we’ve been to since the fire. She is dressed to impress and the bouncer seems to approve. We slow down but he doesn’t care about I.D.s.

  I hurry in and whisper to Denise, “If he knew about my fight with Marla maybe we wouldn’t have been welcomed so easily.”

  She laughs and looks for someone charging a cover fee. But there’s nobody manning the inside. We turn a corner and freeze at the sight of a party like none we’ve ever been to of Billy’s. There are cages hanging from the ceiling with sexy dancers writhing in them. Flashing lights slicing the darkness to bits in time to a hot beat. There’s a stage that’s packed, a dance floor on the lower level, too.

  “Wow!” Denise grins. “What the hell happened?”

  “I don’t know! This is crazy. And no door charge?”

  We start moving in, our heads swiveling to check out a stage where it seems anyone can dance if they find room to. Looping music on his computer to our right on another elevated platform, I recognize the same DJ Billy always has. And not only has he risen to another level, he’s working on three computers now, not one, hypnotic head bobbing as he moves between them with concentrated bliss.

  Denise grabs my hand and guides me to the back. “You smell meatballs?”

  Inhaling I nod and we walk faster until we arrive at an enormous counter add-on steaming with four crock pots. Billy is manning them solo, chatting up the crowd. His eyes brighten upon sight of Denise and he shouts, “Look who finally decided she wants my balls!”

  She laughs, joy in her eyes, so happy to see him. “Billy Cooper, what the hell have you done? Look at this place!”

  “Pretty cool, huh? You know what I realized? People need to have fun! After that fire, I wasn’t going to do anymore parties, but Nicholas and Matt convinced me. Then they blew up! My parties aren’t fluff, Denise, they matter! Life is fucking hard, right? We all need a break, a place to let all that shit disappear for a few blessed hours.”

  She waves yellow fingernails. “Alright, fine, you convinced me. Give me your balls, Billy.”

  His eyes widen before he jumps into action like she’ll change her mind if he takes too long. Planting a cup-o-meatballs in her waiting hand, he bows to make the gesture more poignant. “M’lady.”

  She giggles, “Oh stop!”

  He glances behind me to shout, “Nicholas! You’re my witness! Denise finally wants my balls!”

  I look over my shoulder and lock eyes with Nicholas Cocker. In all black, sleek as hell, he’s standing with three people, Matthew and two beautiful women. My heart thuds in my chest, and I nod a greeting. Nothing big, just a slight dipping of my head before I avert my eyes and wish I’d worn something else.

  Denise moans as she chews.

  Billy’s hoping for the best.

  She swallows, her voice a little breathy, “That’s delicious.”

  “I’ve got two more better than those.”

  Her eyes spring to life as she reaches over the counter to swat at him. He dodges it, laughing, before he asks, “Want one, too, Addison?”

  “It’s Madison,” Nicholas corrects him from right behind me.

  My heart kicks my ribs as I turn around. “Hi.”

  There’s a question in those long-lashed eyes as he searches me like he’s seeing my soul. “Didn’t expect to see ya here, Maddie.” The people disappear, and with them the music. He frowns, searching my eyes like he doesn’t know what to say. “It’s been three months. I’ve looked for you.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  His gaze hovers on my lips, then rises. “I was wondering how Bucky was. Did you find his owner?”

  The music returns. Conversations louder, almost as if they’re laughing at me.

  Tucking some hair behind my ear I say, “Bucky’s doing really well. Still with me. They never answered my messages.” At his frown I explain, “There was a number and I called it.”

  “Fuck, really, they never answered?”

  “Exactly,” I mutter, gazing at his lips as he licks them in thought. I’m about to return to Denise, my lighthouse in the storm, but Nicholas wraps his hand around my hip and shocks this boat into unsure waters.

  “You want to get a drink?”

  “I’m drowning already thanks.”

  “What?” he smiles, not clear on the joke. His hand gives me a firm squeeze as he asks in a serious tone, “You just got here, right?”

  Frowning I glance to Denise to find her excited, mouthing, Go!

  “Uh, sure, let’s get a drink.” His warm hand releases me and I suck in air as we head away, but then I feel it rest on the small of my back with light pressure. “You have one al
ready though, Nicholas.”

  “You don’t.”

  “Weren’t you with a date?”

  Nicholas scowls like he doesn’t understand the question. Then his eyes clear. “Oh, them? Matthew is trying to hook up with the redhead. I was his wing man, that’s it. But he can handle himself. How’ve you been?”

  “Good.”

  “Where’ve you been?”

  I blink, wondering what is going on. “Um, around. I live here in Atlanta so, just living. Walking the dog. Taking care of the kids.”

  His frown deepens, sharp cheekbones catching in the strobe-lights. “You have kids?” Suddenly he chuckles, “Oh, you mean your job. How is that going?”

  “Fine. The parents are…a little odd, but the kids have been so great.” We walk up to the back of the bar, completely ignoring the mosh pit of need. Nicholas apparently doesn’t wait in lines. “Billy’s hiring bartenders now, too?”

  “Had to. Hey Rudy, can you get us a gin and soda, lime squeezed in?”

  “You got it, Nicholas!”

  “You remember my drink.”

  “I have a good memory.” As he pays the man and sets down his own cup to do so, I covertly check his body out. His clothes are perfect and I’m dressed like I’ve given up. Closing my eyes I inwardly curse myself.

  “I came from work, that’s why I’m dressed like this. It’s a very androgynous job.” He hands me my cup while I nervously chatter away. “Bucky’s doing really well. He bonded to me pretty quickly. At first he hated when I left him alone but then he started understanding that I was coming home. Plus I’m never gone long, so that’s good. And the kids love him. I get to take him to work, that’s why I’m not gone long. He comes with me. Except when I get groceries, stuff like that. Or tonight, I mean, he’s not in the car or anything. He’s super easy going. Just wants to be pet. And it turns out he’s protective of me as well, so that’s good. His pooping has gotten so much better, too. At first it was like water but now it’s firm and easy to pick up and oh my God what am I saying? You don’t want to hear this!” I use the cup like a gag, shoving its rim into my mouth and blinking up into his smiling eyes.