Enticed Page 14

  You have no idea. “No, I was awake.”

  “Could you come downstairs? There’s a matter we need to discuss.”

  I swallowed hard. “Of course,” I eked out. I scrambled back into my clothes before I dared walk out of my room. I found him in his study, comfortably attired in lounge pants and a knit shirt from his Ivy League Alma Mater. Fortunately he was seated behind his desk, rather than on the sofa where I had feared. That would have been too suggestive… and possibly too inviting… otherwise. Business as usual was good, I thought to myself as I closed the door behind me. Maybe he understood the level of inappropriateness of our incident at the beach and wanted to re-establish proper boundaries himself.

  This was fine by me.

  I said nothing as I sat across from him. He offered me a friendly smile. “First of all, I wanted to thank you for this afternoon. I think it did Jonathan and me a world of good to have some downtime just to have fun and enjoy each other.”

  “I agree. It’s something he has been missing a great deal.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “I see that now. And I will do whatever I can to correct it. It’s clear that is part of the problem.” I was relieved to hear him say so. “You knew exactly what he needed and you met that need. In every way, you surpass my expectations. You are proving an invaluable part of my team.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “You may not thank me when you hear my proposal,” he said with a mischievous grin that made my stomach sink to my shoes. “Tomorrow we are racing one of our horses at Hollywood Park. I would like both you and Jonathan to accompany me.”

  I was confused. “Why is that a problem?”

  “Alex trains the horses,” he replied.

  “Ah,” I said. Immediately my mind rattled to find any and all excuses to decline.

  “My mother was a devoted horsewoman,” he explained. “She was a trainer, her father was a trainer; his father before him was a trainer, dating all the way back to England. Horses were in her blood. That’s actually how she met our father, when he decided from a young age that he wanted to race them. We’ve always owned thoroughbreds as a result. When she passed away, she stipulated that I would inherit the horses as long as Alex trained them. I think she feared what would become of them if Alex wasn’t involved. Or maybe she felt that as long as we were thrust together, we would maintain our brotherly bond in some way.”

  He added that last little tidbit with an ironic twist of a smile. “Anyway, Jonathan inherited her passion for the sport, for horses in particular, so I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to include him. But it does come with the added complication of dealing with Alex. I thought having you there would help keep the peace between us, or at least buffer as much of the conflict as possible. You seem to have perfected the art of distraction.”

  So have you. “Honestly, I’m racking my brain to come up with any excuse not to go.”

  He chuckled. “It’s your own fault for proving yourself indispensable,” he grinned. “I know it’s technically your day off, so you may decline if you wish. But I think you’ll agree that days like today are huge leaps in the right direction as far as Jonathan is concerned.”

  He was using my commitment to his son against me. “That’s a low blow,” I said with a mock scowl.

  His triumphant grin only proved how much he knew his method would work. “I didn’t get where I am by playing fair.”

  “Duly noted,” I shot back.

  He rose from his chair to refill his glass. “There’s another consideration,” he said. “This is a high-profile event, so you will have to deal with the press.” He walked back to his chair. “You’ve managed to fly under the radar so far. Those days will be gone if you choose to accompany us.”

  “Why would the press care about me?”

  He swigged some bourbon. “Because they care about every female who is in any way associated with me.” He turned his laptop around and showed me photos from a similar event throughout recent years. Each and every headline pointed to the companion on his arm, all of whom were attractive enough to warrant the attention. These were beautiful women and he was a notorious playboy, even while he was married. It was only natural the tabloids would fill in the blanks accordingly.

  I waved away the concern. “They’ll know by looking at me I’m just part of the staff. I’m nothing like any of those women. I doubt they’ll care enough to learn my name.”

  “Don’t underestimate the power of novelty,” he warned. “It’s because you’re unlike the others they will hound you right into the ground if you let them.”

  “You’re doing a bang-up job selling this to me,” I quipped. “I can’t wait to get started. Let’s go right now!”

  He laughed. “Like I said before, you may decline if you wish.”

  I arched my eyebrow. “Can I?”

  “Of course,” he answered smoothly. “Provided you can say no to Jonathan, who thought this was a brilliant idea when I brought it up to him before bedtime.” His smile was anything but apologetic.

  I glared playfully at him. “That is dirty pool, sir.”

  “We’ll be spending the day at the Turf Club, so upscale dress is expected. I’ll want to leave early so be ready by ten.”

  I nodded as I rose. It dawned on me this would be the perfect opportunity to bring up what had happened at the beach, but Drew had seemingly forgotten about it. I thought about all those women he had been photographed with, no doubt a litany of previous lovers that all fit within a narrow “type,” i.e., petite, wealthy, younger socialites with platinum taste in everything from the clothes they wore to the men they dated.

  Next to them I really did feel like some backwards bumpkin from BFE.

  It made the notion of his being interested in someone like me laughable. I was instantly grateful I hadn’t humiliated myself with some sanctimonious lecture on the propriety of our relationship. Clearly the only one who would allow thoughts to wander in that direction was me.

  “I’ll be ready,” I said. He gave me a friendly nod before he turned back to his computer, which was my cue to leave.

  My shoulders drooped as I made my way up the stairs and down the hall to my room. Though I didn’t welcome Drew’s interest, my ego deflated a bit when I realized I wasn’t even a contender in the running for it. I realized that I’d spent the entire day tied up in knots over nothing. Drew wasn’t trying to seduce me in the sand. If anything, he tried to make it less embarrassing for me that I had fallen like some ridiculous goober.

  In fact, he hadn’t said or done anything purposefully inappropriate since we met. Just because I was uncomfortable didn’t mean he was trying to make me that way. Instead, he had done everything he could to ensure my comfort. He was inherently charming, but that didn’t mean anything he had done was in effort to seduce me. I was just some moron reading between the lines, thanks in part to Nancy and Alex filling my head with all these scenarios that didn’t belong there.

  I mentally cursed them both for the needless drama, and I cursed myself more for getting whatever thrill or excitement I had experienced by feeding into it. Clearly the most eligible bachelor wasn’t gunning to get me into bed.

  He had hired me to teach his child and subsequently he regarded me as part of the staff. I was no more desirable to him than Cleo, something I kept insisting to everyone that I wanted.

  So why did the realization sting?

  I was stupidly depressed about it as I changed into my boring, discount store pajamas and crawled back into bed.

  That night, even Dream Drew didn’t show up.

  The next day I took a little extra care when I dressed. I pulled my favorite sundress from the closet. The hem of the flared skirt fell respectfully below the knee. It had a fitted, sleeveless bodice and a print of large, yellow hibiscus flowers that spiraled across a white background.

  It was as bright and colorful as a summer day, which made it a joy to wear. I bought it for a wedding and occasionally brought it out to
attend semi-formal functions. So a day at the races? This fit the bill better than anything I owned.

  I completed the ensemble with a pair of wedge espadrilles in red canvas, to match the bright punch of red detailing in the flowers on the dress.

  Because I had gone this far, I figured I’d wear my hair long and style it. I preferred my hair wash and wear, with little styling required. It was naturally wavy so a functional ponytail usually kept it neat and out of the way. I found hairstyling tools in the bathroom, likely left there for the convenience of anyone who occupied the guest suite. Ten minutes later, my brown hair flowed in graceful curls down my back.

  I completed the look with full makeup, figuring a day in the sun warranted the use of foundation at least. That led to putting a light dusting of shimmery copper eye shadow on my lids and a subtle coral tint to my lips.

  The woman staring back at me from the mirror was a little more polished than usual, but I still didn’t see how I would fit in. I looked every inch of what I was: a middle class schoolteacher. Thinking back to the arm candy Drew had showed me the night before, I felt ridiculous in comparison. I was just a normal girl. Even when Zach was chasing me around college when I was ten years younger and thirty pounds thinner, I was far more wholesome than hot.

  The press would likely drop all their cameras and laugh their collective asses off the minute I stepped out of the car.

  The Fullerton men, however, seemed quite pleased with the transformation when I met them at the bottom of the stairs.

  “You look so pretty, Rachel,” Jonathan complimented me, looking every inch the little gentleman in his dress slacks and sports coat.

  “So do you,” I said as I ruffled his hair. He groaned in protest before he ran to the mirror in the foyer to fix the damage.

  I turned to Drew with a smile. He was dressed the same as his son, though the effect was more devastating than cute. I shook away the thought. These would not serve me. Instead I relied on humor. “Suitable dress for the Turf Club?” I asked.

  His eyes swept over my appearance. “Very nice,” he said. “It perfectly matches the gift I purchased for you.” He handed me a large gift bag. Inside were a wide, floppy white hat and a pair of sunglasses.

  I had to laugh. “So nice that I’m going incognito?”

  “You’ll thank me later,” he assured as he ushered us out the door towards his luxury sedan. It was a sharp, black German import with tinted windows. This was, as Jonathan previously informed me, the family car. It usually gathered dust sitting next to Drew’s collection of two-seater sports cars that he used for pleasure, and the Benz that Harrison used when and if he drove us around.

  Since I had arrived, I had taken over much of the driving in my cute little hybrid. Most of what we did outside the house related directly to my curriculum, so I didn’t feel right shoving this new schedule onto the house staff when they were busy enough already.

  I gave up many things when I relocated to Beverly Hills. My sense of independence was not one of them.

  Now we were going on a family outing in the family car, with the patriarch of said family at the helm. I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about it.

  We drove into the part of Los Angeles known as South Bay, near LAX, where the Hollywood Park racetrack was located. It gave us enough time for Jonathan to dig up facts on our location, the race in which their horse was competing, and horseracing in general, much of which he already knew thanks to his family’s involvement with the sport. Because of this, he adopted the role of teacher to show me the ropes. He chatted all the way there, and Drew and I would share amused glances over his informative commentary.

  He dominated the conversation all the way up to the box seats where we would watch the races. “I think you know more about this now than I do,” Drew teased as we sat.

  Jonathan beamed. “That’s the point. There’s always more to learn. Right, Rachel?”

  I nodded. “Indeed.”

  Our race was scheduled for a little after one o’clock that afternoon, so we were able to dine from the gourmet buffet at our leisure. Drew used this opportunity to teach me those things about horseracing that Jonathan hadn’t covered, gambling in particular. He tried to explain how odds were calculated on the horse’s history, the trainer, the workouts, and the distance and condition of the track. By the time the first race started, he’d even convinced me to place a two-dollar bet on the horses I thought would come in the first, second and third place positions.

  “Win, place and show,” Jonathan supplied.

  I gave him a sideways glance. “Not sure you should be a gambling aficionado at age nine, sir.”

  “Life is a gamble,” he said. “Right, Dad?”

  Drew winked at me. “Indeed.”

  I won bupkis on the first two races. I was about to tell them it wasn’t for me when Drew insisted we go down to the paddock to see their horse, Topper Field, parade before her race. She was a gorgeous dark bay mare with a blaze marking on her face and two white socks her legs. Alex Fullerton proudly watched from the sidelines.

  His smile faded the moment he saw his brother approach. He stood a little taller as he faced Drew. “I see you brought the whole family,” he commented, his eyes briefly lighting on me.

  “A perfect day for it,” Drew replied easily. “Rachel had never been to the races, so we’re teaching her all about the sport.”

  Alex turned to me. “The fastest horse wins,” he smirked.

  My eyes narrowed but I said nothing. He wasn’t worth the energy.

  Drew nodded toward the horse. “Is she ready to add another race to her winning streak?

  “Like printing your own money,” Alex agreed.

  “What about that one?” I asked, pointing to the gray horse that followed Topper Field.

  Alex’s smirk deepened. “That’s Long Shot Silver, and very appropriately named. She doesn’t even place. Save your money, Miss Dennehy. Only a fool bets on long odds.”

  The gray horse sauntered past, and for a brief second our eyes met and held as she paused ever so briefly in front of us. She bobbed her head and walked on.

  I glanced back at Alex’s smug face before I turned on my heel and stalked to the nearest betting window I could find. While I had only parted with a couple of dollars each on the first two races, I dug out a handful of twenties and bet a whopping $100 on Long Shot Silver, currently listed with 25-1 odds.

  Alex joined us in the box seats for the race. All the men around me cheered for Topper Field to win, but silently I rooted for my underdog horse that every single one of them had discounted. In a lot of ways, that horse was me. I didn’t care about the money I had so thoughtlessly squandered on a silly bet. I needed her to win on mere principle.

  I was on my feet the minute I saw Long Shot Silver emerge from the pack of darker horses, a streak of silver as her jockey pulled toward the inside track to close distance as they rallied toward the finish line.

  I didn’t care how it looked or even how it sounded as I hollered for my horse, which battled bitterly with Topper Field in a dramatic photo finish that ended Topper Field’s winning streak, and made me $2500 richer.

  “How did you know she would win?” Jonathan marveled.

  “You can’t always go by what you see on paper,” I answered, though I was looking at the elder Fullertons when I did so. My eyes met Alex’s. “Sometimes you have to go with your gut.”

  I could see both men re-evaluate me in a brand new light, which made my chin jut out even further. Alex bowed to me slightly before he left without another word.

  “That,” Drew said as he glanced down at me, “was worth the loss.”

  I was still triumphant as we stalled in bumper to bumper traffic on the way home. “So what are you planning to do with your windfall?” Drew asked.

  I laughed. “I don’t know. I’ve never had one before, your generous salary excluded, of course.”

  “Of course,” he agreed with a smile.

  I glanced back at Jonathan,
who listened to music on his tablet through his ear buds. “I was thinking maybe we could get Jonathan a dog.”

  “A dog?” Drew asked.

  I nodded. “Every kid should have a dog. It teaches responsibility and unconditional love. I think it’ll help alleviate a lot of his loneliness.”

  He considered it a minute. “And what kind of dog can you buy for $2500?”

  “You could probably buy any number of dogs,” I answered. “But I was thinking of a dog that needs Jonathan as much as he needs him.”

  We stopped at the first shelter we came to. Within ten minutes, Jonathan had fallen head over heels for an affectionate, energetic two-year old Pug-Beagle mix (i.e. Puggle) named Yoda. His owners had been unable to provide the attention the dog needed, a problem I didn’t foresee with Jonathan. He was smitten the instant Yoda covered his face with happy kisses.

  I donated a portion of my winnings to buy all the supplies we would need for the newest member of the family. By the time we got back to the house we were laden with a dog bed, dog food, dog toys, a leash, a harness and training books.

  If I had planned this out a little better, I would have recommended that Jonathan read and research which breed of dog he felt would fit into his family. Instead he relied on his gut instinct and chose the dog he connected to the most, and I could hardly dismiss that after my display at the track.

  “Just remember,” I told him before we signed the paperwork. “This isn’t a toy or a game or a book. A dog is a living thing. If you can’t promise that you will take care of him and love him for the rest of his life, then don’t take him home. That’s how he ended up here, and that’s not fair to the dog.”

  “Oh, I promise!” Jonathan said as he cuddled his new friend closer. “Rule #5, we never break our promises.”

  That evening, Drew and I sat out in the backyard watching Jonathan interact with Yoda. He had a training book in one hand and treats in the other. He was committed to teaching the dog a trick before their first night together was over.

  He succeeded by teaching Yoda to sit on command. They both ran over to demonstrate, before Jonathan moved on to the next trick on his list: teaching Yoda to fetch.