Enticed Page 6

  If I thought I was fully prepared to meet Drew Fullerton face to face, I was sorely mistaken. The minute his six-foot-two frame entered the magnificent dining room, he sucked the air right out of the joint with an aura so powerful I immediately felt a part of me wilt in response. I had never had this kind of reaction to anyone before, but he was, without question, the most powerful and influential, and famous, person I had ever met in person. His suit was an expensive Italian cut in navy blue. The powder blue shirt underneath brought out the unbelievable light within his piercing blue eyes, which were enhanced by the silky darkness of his ebony hair. His build was athletic, with slightly broad shoulders that tapered to a trim waist and powerful hips and legs. I would guess one could bounce a quarter right off of any part of his toned body.

  It made me feel frumpy by comparison, which was unusual.

  Though I had never really been one of those girls to obsess about my appearance, especially in recent years, I felt underdressed and unremarkable as his eyes slid ever so coolly across my attire. From the glasses I wore to the clothes I had purchased at a discount department store, I felt every inch the homely schoolmarm. Worse, his eyes gave nothing away, whether or not he was pleased or displeased by what he saw. He just took it all in emotionlessly, like a computer assessing a line of binary code.

  “Dad!” Jonathan exclaimed as he burst through the double doors from the kitchen. He flung himself across the room right into his father’s embrace, which cracked right through his father’s icy veneer.

  “Hey, sport,” he said with a lopsided smile that very nearly mirrored his brother’s.

  Jonathan dragged him by the hand. “I want you to meet Rachel,” he said as he pulled his father to where I stood.

  I think I might have actually shrunk a bit once Drew loomed above me. I could smell the woodsy essence of his cologne fill my nostrils as he finally stood close enough to touch. I cleared my throat and extended my hand. “Mr. Fullerton,” I said, much stiffer than I had wanted to. “It’s so nice to finally meet you face to face.”

  He smiled, but there was something hard in his eyes as he stared down at me. He took my hand in his in a firm handshake. “Likewise, Miss Dennehy,” he said.

  “We made you dinner!” Jonathan announced happily as he gestured to the full table.

  Drew was puzzled as he glanced between the table and his son. “You prepared dinner?”

  Jonathan nodded. “It’s Rachel’s recipe. We went shopping and everything. It was so cool!”

  That icy gaze slid back to me, locking me in its grip as if he were a snake about to ingest a hapless little field mouse. “Is that so?”

  Before I could defend or justify my methods, Jonathan pulled Drew to the seat at the head of the table. Cleo entered, holding a bottle of aged wine in her hand.

  “Welcome home, Master Fullerton,” she greeted warmly. “Did you have a good flight?”

  “Uneventful,” he replied as he sat in the chair and pulled the delicate lace napkin into his lap. No further words were spoken between them as she poured him a glass of blood red wine. He nodded to dismiss her, and she disappeared as unobtrusively as she had arrived. He turned back to Jonathan. “So what are we having?”

  Jonathan grinned big as he lifted the silver dome from the serving tray. “Porcupine meatballs,” he said happily as he spooned two savory meatballs onto Drew’s plate. I could see Drew’s jaw clench that his progeny was performing such a menial task.

  His eyes met mine. “Porcupine? Is this a Texas delicacy?” he asked, his tone laced with a hint of condescension.

  “Dad!” Jonathan laughed. “It’s ground beef and rice, not a real porcupine.”

  “I couldn’t be sure,” Drew murmured as he glanced down at the plate his son filled with salad and garlic sautéed green beans. “It appears so many things have changed in my absence.”

  “I take full responsibility for that, Mr. Fullerton,” I said. “I thought it would be a nice gesture for you to have a home-cooked meal upon your return, especially given that you’ve been gone several days.” I met his gaze directly, proving to him that I could match every veiled insult.

  Jonathan’s eyes darted to mine. I could tell that he sensed the uneasiness at the table, and I knew that he was concerned that his father would send me back to Texas over the slightest infraction. “It was my idea, Dad,” he said, throwing himself on the virtual grenade in the room. “Please don’t be mad.”

  Drew masked any annoyance as he turned to his son. “I’m not angry, Jonathan. Just surprised. I had no idea that you liked to cook.”

  “Me either,” he said with an impish grin. “Rachel taught me how. She says it’s like knowing a magic trick. Right, Rachel?” he asked with a hopeful smile.

  I nodded. “Guilty as charged.”

  Drew once again offered his son a supportive smile. “Then I can’t wait to taste your magical meal, especially since the first trick was turning beef into a porcupine,” he said, before spearing a meatball with his fork. I could tell that this wasn’t the type of cuisine he was used to eating, but for his son he made the effort.

  In that moment, it was the only thing warming me to my prospective employer.

  “Delicious,” he praised. Whether or not he was sincere, I couldn’t be sure. But Jonathan beamed under his father’s approval, which somehow cracked my heart even more. “So what else did you learn while I was gone?”

  “I went to the grocery store,” he said. “Rachel gave me a budget and I had to make it all fit.”

  I could tell this was not good news to the elder Fullerton. “I see. Anything else?”

  Jonathan thought about it a moment. “I got a new book from the library. I’m going to do a book report on it.”

  That seemed to appease Drew. “Which book is that?” he wanted to know. “A classic, I hope,” he said as he turned to me.

  “Nope. Just brain candy,” I said without a hint of shame.

  “It’s called Comic Squad,” Jonathan supplied. “It’s about these geeks who accidentally set a comic book villain free in their town. They have to use their ingenuity to capture him,” using the big word he had learned over the weekend to impress his father.

  “I see,” Drew repeated again. “How else did you spend your time, Jonathan?”

  “We went for a walk in the neighborhood,” he answered dutifully. “Other than that, we watched TV, stayed by the pool and talked.”

  Drew leveled his cold blue eyes on my face. “I trust you’re enjoying your spring break in California, then.”

  My chin tipped defiantly. I knew that was a slam that I hadn’t done more to teach Jonathan the curriculum he had provided for me. No doubt he wondered if I was like the other teachers who had come before me, who got one good look at the house and the man who owned it and aimed for something a lot more profitable than a simple teaching position. I could hear Jonathan’s voice whisper in my ear, “He thinks fat people are lazy.”

  Worse, Alex’s voice was even louder. “Single billionaire, big, empty Beverly Hills mansion and a lonely kid who desperately needs a mom. Easy pickings for a smart gold-digger.”

  As Drew’s hard eyes glittered at me, I could only guess what he was thinking. Clearly this was another test I hadn’t been aware I was taking, and it was evident I hadn’t passed. “It’s been lovely,” I murmured sweetly. If he expected me to get defensive and demean myself in front of his son, he was in for a long wait. I didn’t do humiliation, either as a teacher or a human. When we talked, and I knew we would, it would be privately.

  That opportunity presented itself the second Drew told Jonathan that there was a package on his bed, straight from Japan. Jonathan hopped up and darted for the door, but then turned back to me as if he had forgotten something.

  And of course, he had.

  “May I be excused?” he asked.

  I gave him a slight nod of the head and he was gone in a flash.

  We didn’t have much time before he would return, so Drew didn’t mince w
ords. “I think you misunderstood exactly what kind of educator I was seeking for my son. He is going to be a titan in business, following four generations of Fullertons before him. He needs to be prepared. You’ll forgive me if I don’t think measuring ingredients and shopping at the market qualify as the higher education for which I’m paying very good money.”

  I placed the fork on the plate, my appetite totally obliterated under his heavy disdain. “You wanted me to teach your son, and I have done that. More importantly, I’ve reached him. He knows he can trust me, especially after I shielded him from that family debacle yesterday. This morning I gave Jonathan four different tests. In math, he was tested on fractions and word problems. The skills he learned with a quick trip to the store helped him score in the 99th percentile testing at near seventh-grade levels. He earned similar marks on his science paper, where he was tested on how certain elements react to each other, something he learned hands-on with a simple cooking lesson. For his history essay, he researched and wrote a thousand-word document on the Greystone Mansion and Park where we walked and explored which – if I’m not mistaken – qualifies under your physical fitness requirement as well. Finally I tested him on the book he’s been reading for pleasure, with a questionnaire that helped him think critically about the material he was reading simply for the joy of it, giving him several key vocabulary words to note as he read along. Though it isn’t a classic, it is a book that has been in my own curriculum for years, and I’m confident at least one student who reads it will go on and get an Ivy League education.”

  His jaw clenched as he realized what I had done. I had taken Jonathan from a stale, unchallenging classroom environment with endless tests and bookwork, all of which had been crippling his curious and playful nature. By putting him in an entirely foreign setting, he learned how to do the things Drew wanted him to do, right down to the budgeting skills at the market, but in new ways that would naturally keep him more engaged than the boring ol’ status quo. And Jonathan had never even realized what I had done until I had quizzed him on it that very morning.

  My hazel eyes glittered just as hard as Drew’s icy blue ones. “You may question my methods, Mr. Fullerton, but my results are indisputable. Considering I did all this in two days, even playing keep-away with your ex-wife and your pain-in-the-ass brother, I’d say I’ve done a hell of a lot more than the previous instructors you have hired to do this job.”

  Normally I wouldn’t have cursed at an employer. But his elitist attitude really pissed me off. Did he really believe his son was too good to wash a dish or cook a meal, as if these mundane tasks held no value for such powerful, wealthy people? And if that was true, how did he regard anyone who had the misfortune of being born average? Did he think we were all beneath him, simply because we had no one to treat us like gods? The Texan was coming out, and he was either going to prove he could deal with that or he was going to send me home anyway. I had nothing to lose. In fact, the only one who had anything at all at stake was Jonathan.

  “Now, if you don’t approve of my more unconventional methods, then you can gas up the jet and send me home tonight. But I’m willing to bet that you won’t find anyone else who can reach Jonathan the way that I have. I have a connection with him. That was what you wanted. That is what you got.” I grabbed a glass of ice water and gulped it down. “Do with that what you will.”

  Before he could reply, Jonathan raced back into the room, wearing a new jade green kimono and holding the entire box set of his favorite Anime program. “Thanks, Dad!” he said as he rushed to hug his father. “Let’s watch it together,” he pleaded hopefully.

  I used that opportunity to slide my chair back and rise from the table. “I think I’ll retire for the evening. Let you two catch up.”

  Jonathan was crestfallen. “No, Rachel,” he said with a plaintive whine in his voice. “Please don’t go. You haven’t even had any pudding.”

  “Pudding?” Drew echoed.

  Jonathan nodded. “She made homemade Southern banana pudding.”

  I shook my head. “You enjoy it. I’m stuffed,” I lied easily. “The dinner was excellent, Jonathan. You did a great job.” I turned to Drew. “It was very nice meeting you, Mr. Fullerton. I trust you’ll think about what I said and let me know if there has been any change in plans.”

  Jonathan was panicked as he looked between his father and me. “Change of plans? You’re not leaving, are you, Rachel?”

  “No decisions have been made,” Drew filled in before I could speak. “Why don’t you go get us some pudding, Jonathan? That sounds delicious.”

  Jonathan nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Drew rose to his feet and walked around the table to face me. “Obviously I’m not used to being spoken to in such a way in my own home,” he said, his voice hard but quiet. “But obviously I offended you. I apologize.” He offered his hand.

  It was a gesture of civility, but his eyes were still lethal as they stared down at me. My hand shook as I placed it in his. His fingers closed around mine powerfully as he pulled me closer. I gasped as I stopped short mere inches from that massive chest. I hadn’t been this close to a man in many years, especially a man as intimidating as Drew Fullerton. I was certain that he could feel the tremble in my grasp when my eyes shot to his. His face broke apart in a victorious smile. “Start over?” he asked softly. “Rachel?”

  I gulped hard. I should have told him to gas up the jet anyway and just leave Beverly Hills in my daydreams where it belonged. Had Jonathan not been a factor, I probably would have done just that. But he was very much a factor, so I owed it to him to make inroads with Drew, who now had five days to prove to me that I could work for him. He had to trust me and my methods, and respect the job that I was hired to do. So I tipped my chin again and said in as steady a voice as I could muster, “You’re the boss,” I said, adding, “Mr. Fullerton,” defiantly.

  I pulled my hand from his and carried myself on unsteady legs all the way to the guest room.

  Chapter Eight

  The next day I opted to follow Drew’s curriculum by taking Jonathan to the California Science Center. It was hands-on learning in a more conventional environment, but best of all it got me the hell out of the house for the day, keeping any contact between Drew and me to a minimum.

  Jonathan was an absorbent little sponge who soaked up every single exhibit, so he was a fun companion. It was almost like learning all these fascinating things over again. After watching a space-themed IMAX movie in 3-D, we stopped for a bite to eat at familiar fast food kiosk on the premises.

  Jonathan sucked down his soda. “Have you talked to my dad?” he wanted to know.

  I shook my head. “Not since yesterday. Was he terribly upset?”

  Jonathan shrugged. “At first, maybe. Mostly he was quiet.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” I said as I grinned at him, before diving into a crispy taco.

  “It means he’s thinking things through. Re-evaluating, calculating.”

  I stopped chewing. This was a little boy who had stepped into an adult role at a very early age. He was willing to shield the world from his father, and that was no place any kid deserved to be. “I can handle whatever your dad throws at me, Jonathan. Don’t worry.”

  His eyes were wide and sad. “I just don’t want you to go. You’re the first teacher in a long time who has given a damn.”

  I scowled. “Jonathan.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just… if you go back home… I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s sent me away before,” Jonathan confided. “Away from everyone in some strange place. And it sucked. It felt like a punishment. If I screw up again he’ll send me to military school.”

  “The easy way to avoid that is not to screw up,” I pointed out. “Why do you act out, Jonathan?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “I think you do,” I said softly.

  He glanced up at me, uncertai
n if he could share his painful secret. His eyes welled with tears. “If they’re yelling at me, then they’re not yelling at each other.”

  I could hear my heart crackle into a million little pieces. I reached across the table and took his hand in mine. “I know that this is difficult on you, but none of this is your fault or your responsibility, honey. These are adult problems. And for some reason, some adults act like complete boneheads when they’re hurt. Sometimes they hurt so much that they can’t even see what their behavior does to anyone else. But it has nothing to do with you, sweetie.”

  He shook his head. “It has everything to do with me. The only fight left between them is what will happen to me. Both of them want me to live with them. How am I supposed to choose?”

  “You shouldn’t have to,” I agreed.

  “I just want things to go back to the way they used to be,” he mumbled.

  “I know,” I said softly.

  “You’re the only one who does,” he said. “Maybe you can do something.”

  I shook my head. “I’m just your teacher, Jonathan. I’m not a marriage counselor or a lawyer.” Or a psychiatrist, which is what I felt both parents desperately needed. “If I stay, it’s to be there for you. I can’t fix what’s broken between them. And neither can you. Only they can do that.”

  He nodded. He knew.

  I collected the empty wrappers from our table. “Come on. Let’s go learn about the ecosystem.”