Club Wicked 2: My Wicked Nanny (11 page)

She looked down at the mixed drink in her hand, wishing she
was mean enough to spit in it. Never in her life had she met anyone she
despised as much as Diane, Jesse’s late wife’s twin sister. A mean, vain, and
utterly manipulative woman who used her looks to get what she wanted. She’d
been divorced four times and had left each man near broke from her extravagant
spending. Newly single again, it was apparent to everyone but Jesse that Diane
had her sights set on him as husband number five.

Anya took a deep breath, counting to ten twice before she
entered the living room, where Diane sat smoking her fake cigarette. The end of
the electric cigarette glowed red as she took another puff of the
nicotine-laced vapor, then blew the resulting plume of water vapor into the air
through her nose. She reminded Anya of an evil dragon getting ready to feast on
innocent villagers.

Across from Diane the boys played with their toys, oblivious
to their aunt’s presence. Not that it really mattered. From what Anya had seen
in the time she’d worked here, Diane really only came to the house to visit one
person. She usually arrived right before Jesse came home at least twice a week,
oozing insincere love for the boys while trying to cuddle up to him. It made
Anya want to snatch her blonde hair out by its black roots.

A rather possessive anger flared through her, pushing aside
her usual tolerance for the woman. How could Jesse not see that to Diane the
boys were an excuse to get her anorexic, Botoxed ass through the door? Diane
never actually did anything with them, just sat in whatever room they happened
to be in, usually texting on her phone. In fact, anytime they asked her to
play, she sent them to “go bother the nanny.” It hurt Anya’s heart that Diane
could be so unfeeling to Mark and Teddy, but it wasn’t her place to say
anything.

Anya smiled at the boys as she passed them, their automatic
smiles back fortifying her against Diane’s evil aura. As usual the woman wore a
short dress that showed off her legs, high heels, and enough makeup to keep a
department store’s beauty counter in business for years. She looked impeccable,
urbane, and sophisticated, while Anya looked like someone’s chunky kid sister.

Forcing herself to be calm, she handed Diane the gin and
tonic she’d been told to fetch. Not asked to get, or even requested, but told
to go fetch like she was some trained dog. When she set the glass on the table,
Diane didn’t even look up from her phone, just picked up the drink and took a
sip while staring at the screen.

Dian’s upper lip curled. “You didn’t put enough gin in. I
don’t know why Jesse lets such incompetent people work for him.”

Before she could stop herself, Anya shot back, “I was hired
to be his nanny, not his bartender.”

Now Diane did look up, and her cold blue eyes narrowed into
slits. “I don’t know who you think you are, girl, but one word from me and
he’ll fire you faster than you can blink.”

Unsure of the truth of the other woman’s words, and not
wanting to get into a confrontation in front of the boys, she swallowed her
pride and walked out of the room before she hit the bitch. As soon as she made
it to the hallway, she ran into Mrs. Kline, Jesse’s mom. A kind and funny woman
with a dry sense of humor, she often came during the day to help out around the
house when the boys were home.

Mrs. Kline gently gripped her arm and steered her toward the
kitchen. “Come on, Anya. If anyone is going to have the pleasure of beating
that woman, it’s going to be me.”

The mental image of the round and pretty older woman booting
Diane out of the house helped her control her anger. “She is so…so…”

“Mean?”

“Yes.”

Anya’s stomach clenched as she remembered all of Diane’s
snide insults about her weight, her looks, and her lack of sophistication. Oh,
Diane never acted like that in front of Jesse, and he had enough to worry about
without adding Diane’s craziness to the mix, but darn if she didn’t wish that woman
would go fall down a well somewhere and leave them alone.

They entered the kitchen, Mrs. Kline’s domain, and Anya sat
at the breakfast bar that separated the cooking area from the dining space.
“Pardon me if I’m out of line, but why does Mr. Shaw tolerate it?”

“Please, call him Jesse. When someone says Mr. Shaw, I think
they’re talking about my late husband.”

Anya shrugged, feeling incredibly awkward. Usually she and
Mrs. Kline got along great, but now she felt all weird after what had happened
with Jesse at Wicked. “I don’t know if that would be respectful.”

“Pish posh. But back to the original subject.” Mrs. Kline
returned to chopping up some vegetables for a stew she was making. Silver light
bounced off the blade of the expensive knife as she diced an onion. “My son,
bless his heart, tends to not really pay attention to what is going on around
him.”

Thinking of how Jesse was totally oblivious to the fact that
she was also Dove, Anya couldn’t help but agree. “Yeah, I’ve kind of noticed
that.”

Mrs. Kline gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m not saying
he’s walking around with his head in the sand, but he tends to miss some
things. He was like that when he was a boy as well. Always thinking about some
fabulous technological invention and oblivious to the rest of the world. Not
that it turned out badly, mind you. Being CEO of your own tech company
certainly has its advantages.” She sighed and scooped the cut onions into a big
pot. “I think part of it is that he isn’t a good multitasker. When he focuses
on something, he gives it one hundred percent of his attention.”

Trying to will visions of the wonderful things Jesse had
done to her when she had 100 percent of his attention out of her mind, she
nodded. “I understand, and I’m not trying to make trouble, but when the boys
get older, I hope she doesn’t try to hurt them. Not hit them or anything like
that, but Diane seems like the type who enjoys playing games.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, my dear. I have a feeling
once Jesse remarries, things will be different around here.”

Anya’s heart sank to her stomach. “He’s getting married?”

“What? Oh, oh no, not at all. I’m just saying that, in the
future, his wife won’t have to worry about divided loyalties. Jesse will always
stand by his woman.”

Wishing with all her heart it could be her but knowing that
was an impossible dream, Anya stood and straightened her bulky shirt. “I better
get back in there before she decides to try to suck the youth out of the boys.”

Mrs. Kline laughed and waved her knife in Anya’s direction. “You
don’t have to put up with her. Jesse would have
your
back if you decided to tell her to stick it where the sun
don’t shine.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Kline, but I don’t want to bring any more
stress to his life. He works hard and stretches himself thin trying to be both
a businessman and a single father. I admire him and I respect him too much to
pick a fight with that woman. It’s probably what she wants so she can have some
drama to cry about.”

With a sigh Jesse’s mother turned back to her cooking. “You
do what you think is best, but don’t underestimate my son. I think I’ve
sheltered him a bit too long from what a snake Diane is. Might be time to pull
his blinders off a bit.”

Unsure of what to say, Anya left the kitchen and almost ran
into Jesse. He was taking off his jacket in the foyer, the strength of his
shoulders evident as he moved. When he pulled off his dark gray suit jacket,
she bit back a moan at the sight of his ass. All that work in the barn kept a
man in shape, and Jesse’s rock-hard butt did not disappoint.

He turned and, before she could move, caught her staring. He
raised his eyebrows. Her heart skipped a beat, then pounded twice as hard. For
a moment their eyes met, and his expression turned from amusement to something
different. He closed his eyes and opened them again, but before he could say
anything, Diane sailed into the room.

“Jesse, it is so good to have you home. The boys have been
running me ragged today, but I do love spending time with them.”

Anya used that opportunity to duck back into the kitchen.
She practically ran past Mrs. Kline. “Hey, I have an important call I have to
make about my job over in Paris. Have a great weekend!”

Feeling like a coward, she dashed across the lawn to the
carriage house, sweating her ass off beneath the chunky turtleneck she’d had to
wear all week. Thank goodness she’d remembered her fake glasses. Now that she
was out of sight of the house, she stopped running and took the glasses off,
rubbing the space between her eyes.

Dammit, this was so messed up. Having to lie constantly was
really screwing with her sense of self. Before this she’d never lied about
anything major. Okay, so she’d lied that time she told her mom she was going to
Sarah’s house after prom and ended up in a hotel room losing her virginity instead,
but that was nothing compared to this. She’d be almost ready to call it off and
quit working at Wicked, if not for the memory of the soft brush of Jesse’s
beard against her lips, the way he held her with such…command. The thought had
her body readying for him.

Unable to resist the need to be with Jesse again, she went
into her sewing room and put various outfits on her mannequins, trying to
figure out what she wanted to wear tonight.

* * * *

Jesse tried to keep his temper in check as his former
sister-in-law, Carol’s fraternal twin sister, Diane, rattled off yet another
list of opinions on how to raise the boys. Unfortunately, she was utterly bat
shit if she thought he was doing anything she said. While she was the boys’
only living relative on their mother’s side, Diane had made Carol’s life a
living hell when they were kids. It made Jesse weary of Diane, because in his
experience once a bully, always a bully. Despite the fact he found her beyond
irritating to be around, he still made room for her in the boys’ life.

“One of my favorite therapists was on Dr. Phil yesterday,
and he had so many fascinating things to say about the terrible consequences of
attachment parenting.”

Nodding along with her words, watching her bleached-blonde
head bop around as she talked, he then looked out the window over her shoulder
and thought about Dove. Not in a sexual sense—being around Diane was an instant
hard-on killer—but more in a fascinated way. She was so passionate, so
trusting. He was glad he was her first Dom, because the kind of trust she
showed in him was almost scary. If he’d been an unscrupulous man, he could have
done a major mind fuck on her. Some assholes loved that, and the only way they
got off is if they’d hurt someone emotionally.

His thoughts must have been reflected on his face, because
she abruptly stopped speaking and frowned at him. “Are you listening to me?”

“Of course I am. You worry I’m coddling the boys, and I’m
not. End of story.”

Her lips thinned into an angry line. “You’ll never find a
wife if you don’t romance her, and you can’t romance a woman when you spend
ninety percent of your free time with your children.”

Anger flared within him, and he stood. “Diane, I don’t need
to go looking for a woman.”

Her mood changed, and her gaze softened. “I know. You have
all you need right here.”

She reached up to touch him, but he backed away before she
could, his thoughts already having turned back to Dove. “Right. I’m going to go
see if my mom needs help in the kitchen.”

Diane’s cosmetically enhanced lips curled in distaste. “You
do that. I’ll stay here and play with the boys.” She reached into her purse and
pulled out her cell phone.

Jesse quickly walked away, tired of having her in his house.
She was so damn annoying. When he’d been married, Diane was never around, but
once Carol passed, she was here twice a week, more if he’d let her. When she
suggested she should spend the night so the boys would have a motherly presence
in the house, he’d drawn the line.

The delicious scent of beef stew filled the air the closer
he got to the kitchen. Taking in a deep breath, he let the smell of his mom’s
cooking heal him from the inside out. His mother had only been nineteen when
she’d had him, the young bride of a marine. Then when Jesse was three, his
father passed away from a brain aneurysm.

His mother had found herself alone, without an education
beyond high school, and a small pension to raise her son on. Instead of giving
up, his mother had pulled herself up by her bootstraps. She’d managed to raise
him with the help of her parents on their big ranch outside of Dallas, get a
degree in business, and open her own successful home business making candles.
Then she’d met her second husband, Jesse’s football coach, Guy, and had
remarried. In a grim coincidence, a year after Carol passed, Guy had a massive
heart attack and didn’t make it. Jesse had moved his mother east with him so
they could both heal together and, truth be told, because he needed her. Now
she had her own candle-making business here in DC, and it was doing so well
that she was considering opening a second store.

He took a moment to admire her and say a private prayer of
thanks for having such a great mother.

“Hi, Mom.”

His mother looked up from the stove. “Is Diane still here?”

He nodded, and they both grimaced. His mother moved
efficiently through the kitchen, her faded blonde hair up in a bun. She was the
kind of woman who only felt alive when she was busy, so he was used to her
frenetic energy. She turned her back to him and stirred the pot with a wooden spoon.

Trying to sneak up on her, he snatched a carrot from the
stew pot, and his mother smacked his hand with her spoon.

“Get out of there. If you want to eat with us, then you can
sit down and be a good example to your boys.”

He grinned and kissed her on the cheek. “Aww, you’re no
fun.”

“Neither are you.” She smoothed her hair off her cheek from
where it had escaped her bun. “Why don’t you go ask Anya if she wants to eat
with us?”