Enticed Page 8

  I blinked in confusion as I stared at my cell phone, which was chirping loudly from my nightstand. When I grabbed the phone, I stared uncomprehendingly at the date, which was still weeks away from moving back to Beverly Hills to start my job, officially, as Jonathan’s private teacher.

  I shot up in bed as I realized what had happened. For some strange reason, I had dreamed about a lustful embrace with Drew Fullerton, my future employer.

  I was shocked at the dream and shocked at myself for having it. It was the most inappropriate thing I had ever done, intentionally or otherwise.

  I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and tried to catch my breath. My entire body felt as though I had been in that room with Drew, in his arms, the recipient of his kiss. If I closed my eyes, I could slip back into those arms and feel his hard body pressed against mine.

  I shook my head violently to rid myself of the imagery. I jumped in an ice cold shower and blasted any residual feelings away until my teeth chattered.

  I still wasn’t one hundred percent by the time I reached the school that sunny morning in May. We were two weeks from the end of the school year, after which I would pack up a moving van and head west for California.

  Maybe, I thought to myself. Another dream like that one and I’d likely freak out entirely and never make it out of Texas at all.

  A legally binding contract was only half as binding as the promise to myself years ago that I’d never get involved with another man as long as I lived. And for more than three years I had kept my promise. I stayed far away from any man who had crossed that line in the sand, even if he hadn’t been aware he was crossing it.

  The dream Drew had definitely crossed it. I was so emotionally and physically impacted by my lusty dream that it made me second-guess my decision for the first time since I returned to Texas. Was moving into the home of such a handsome and charming stranger a smart thing to do?

  Was Nancy right? Had I bitten off way more than I could chew?

  Of course, I could do what I always did, hole myself up in my tiny apartment and live my life day after day like I had become accustomed to, safe and in control of my own destiny. It would mean breaking the contract and returning the money, but those concerns were trivial at best. The truest question was if I could turn my back on Jonathan.

  For the last couple of months we had talked almost every night, with me teaching him remotely using video chats. Since he was so advanced, he was easily doing the school work I assigned to my class. He’d become such a big part of my life that I really couldn’t picture a day without him anymore. It was comforting to have him to talk to at the end of the day, even if it was to chat about what movie we had seen or what book we had read.

  Throwing all that away now seemed a little drastic over some silly dream I neither planned nor controlled. I had no romantic illusions when it came to Drew Fullerton. He was my boss and nothing more.

  I had kept in contact with him over the past couple of months, and our relationship had been completely professional. Generally we video chatted once a week, just so he could be kept abreast of Jonathan’s progress. We had such a chat the night before, which could have contributed to the unusual dream. Due to the time difference between Texas and California, I would often talk to him right before bed. This put him right into my subconscious to do with him as it willed as it took over while I slept.

  Drew himself had never been anything but a perfect gentleman. Why my psyche had decided to cast him in an X-rated movie as my eager costar was beyond me. Thanks to Jonathan, I already knew that he didn’t dig fat chicks, which would have left me out of the running even if I had been interested, which I most definitely wasn’t.

  I usually would have worked through this confusing and conflicting data with my best friend, Nancy, but she was one step away from locking me in her basement to prevent me from leaving at all. She had been completely shell-shocked that I had gone to California in the first place. That I announced I was going back, permanently, was way more than she could bear. She had harped in my ear week in and week out what a mistake I was making. One minute she was trying to marry me off to every eligible bachelor in the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex, the next she was fighting every decision I made in regards to the most eligible bachelor on the planet.

  The change I was making was so drastic she immediately assumed it was impulsive, that I hadn’t thought things through, that I was still pissy and trying to spite her. And she used every weapon in her arsenal to try save me.

  “How is it going to look to have a single, attractive woman move into a mansion of a billionaire? Everyone is going to think you’re a gold-digger.”

  “His brother already sounded that trumpet,” I informed her. “But it doesn’t matter what they think of me. Just what I think of me. Someone once told me that… can’t remember who.”

  She glared at me. “How do you know you can trust this man? He has a reputation of being ruthless, you know. Not to mention a manwhore. He goes through playmates like tissue paper. He’s the kind of man you hate, remember?”

  “He and I found a way to communicate,” I assured her. “He insulted me once, I stood my ground. He changed his tune, problem solved.”

  She sighed. “You’re not a naïve person, Rachel. You can’t believe that something this big has fallen into your lap without any catch.”

  “Yeah, the catch is that instead of a class full of students I get to say goodbye to year after year, I can hang in there with this boy until he marches off to college. He’ll take my heart with him, just like he was my own flesh and blood son.” She dropped her eyes. “But if you met him, you’d know it’s worth every minute.”

  Her eyebrow arched. “Which one are you talking about, exactly? The little Fullerton, or his super handsome, super wealthy, super eligible father?”

  I scowled at her. “You know better than that. I know what I’m getting into, Nancy. Please trust me.”

  Eventually she dropped it, mostly because we had been friends long enough that she knew once I made up my mind, there was really no stopping me. We’d had that conversation nearly ten years before, when I had made a similar decision that she felt I had been rushed into.

  Turned out she was right and I paid dearly for my mistake, but I knew this was different. I wasn’t that same 19-year-old girl anymore. I had learned hard lessons and paid my dues.

  Plus, this time I wasn’t blinded by love. I no longer believed in a fairytale prince whisking me away to a picture perfect happily ever after. I believed in my skill as a teacher, and Jonathan’s receptiveness as a student.

  That was all we needed.

  Now that he could see my results, Drew no longer questioned my methods. He promised to stay out of my way once I moved to Los Angeles. He had major business mergers in the works that would keep him busy for the foreseeable future. This was one of the many reasons I spent a lot of time video chatting with Jonathan night after night, even if we were just watching a movie together.

  His loneliness was palpable three states away, so I never declined when he wanted to chat.

  We talked about books and classwork and sometimes, when he’d let his guard down, we talked about his family. Not often, usually only after Elise had tried to swoop in and seize custody of him.

  According to Jonathan, the judge had approved supervised, scheduled visits once a week. His mother didn’t respond well to this new stipulation, which made these interchanges awkward and uncomfortable.

  “I wish I didn’t have to see her,” he’d complain.

  “You don’t mean that, Jonathan,” I’d gently correct. “She’s your mom.”

  “No, she’s not,” he would reply sadly. “She never was.”

  I would always divert his attention to something more positive. It wasn’t my place to encourage such negative talk against one of his parents, and I would never think to do so. While I didn’t necessarily understand Elise’s decision to leave her child as well as her marriage, it wasn’t my place to judge her. All I rea
lly wanted was for all of them to find a suitable compromise in Jonathan’s best interest.

  Nancy thought I was nuts to get involved with it all. She read way more gossip sites than I did, so she had all the “dirt” on who left whom and why, and she had no use at all for Drew Fullerton. As far as Nancy was concerned, Elise had every right to leave him. She had been made the fool in the press thanks to his countless indiscretions, all of which began after her significant weight gain while she was pregnant with Jonathan.

  This notably included allegations early on that Drew had had more than one affair with Jonathan’s countless nannies. As a result, Elise found herself a little love slave in the tennis instructor at their country club, tit for tat. “Rich people do this all the time,” she said.

  “Which rich people do you know that do this?” I shot back.

  “I know people!” she’d insist. “Besides. It’s not my place to say.”

  I gave her a pointed glare. “Exactly.”

  The closer we got to my departure date, the more passionately she fought to keep me within the familiar borders of Texas. She would point out any earthquake or trembler that affected the Los Angeles area, along with crime statistics and pollution reports.

  “State income tax,” she declared, officially reaching the bottom of the barrel.

  So she definitely would have used this highly inappropriate dream as a concrete reason why I couldn’t go to California. Lord knows she used every other excuse all the way up to that Saturday morning I was due to leave ten days later.

  Fortunately I hadn’t had another dream by then, and was feeling in much better control of my emotions. Apparently it was just some weird little mental detour, but I had seemingly found my way back, no problem.

  Clearly I was just managing the stress of the upcoming move.

  Nancy carried a cardboard boxes loaded with books toward the moving van that Saturday morning. Our eyes met and we shared a smile. “You didn’t have as much stuff when you moved in,” she pointed out wryly. “How many boxes of books is this? Seriously. It’s like you’re living in a freaking library.”

  I shrugged. “You know me. I have a bit of a book fetish.”

  “I wouldn’t mind the books if you’d join us in the 21st century and get an e-reader already. Then when you move a thousand books from place to place, I don’t risk throwing my back out.”

  “Well, I am very grateful that you braved the risk,” I said as I kissed her cheek.

  “How could I not? It may be the last time I ever see you again.”

  I rolled my eyes. She was determined to make this hard for me.

  Even as she and Greg moved me out of that 900-square-foot apartment, she would make her little comments as a last ditch effort to pull me from the edge of the rabbit hole. I ignored them all until we stood just outside the full moving van. “You wouldn’t go for coffee with Greg’s best friend, but you’re moving a half a country away to live with some man I’ve never met.” She took my hands in hers. “I’ll never understand you, Rachel.”

  I pulled her into a hug. “That’s because you’re looking at this the wrong way. I’m not moving across the country to live with Drew. I’m doing it to help his son. You’re a teacher, Nance. You know what motivates me.”

  “More than anyone,” she said as our eyes met and held. “If this is about Jason,” she started but I stopped her short.

  “I’m not talking about this with you,” I said as I pulled away. In all honesty, this was one of the biggest reasons I had finally made the decision to leave. I could never get beyond my past in Texas. Every place and every person was a reminder of all I had lost. Frankly, it was a nice change of pace to move somewhere that no one knew about my past. I could just be “Rachel” again, instead of “poor Rachel.” For that reason alone, I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

  I fished the keys from the front pocket of my jeans and headed toward the brand new car I had purchased. It was a hybrid car sure to save me gas as I motored from Texas to California, even though strict budgets were no longer a pressing concern. After ten years struggling to make ends meet, however, these were habits not easily broken.

  “It’s way too late to start out now,” Nancy said as she followed behind. “Stay with us for the night.”

  I shook my head. I couldn’t take another eighteen hours of her fruitless campaign to keep me Texas bound. “It’s barely after noon. I’ll make it to El Paso in about ten hours.”

  Nancy glanced desperately to Greg, who shrugged his shoulders as he swung into the cab of the rental truck. He had already offered to set my stuff up in storage for me so I could get on the road. There were tears in Nancy’s eyes as she reached for one more hug.

  “I don’t want you to go,” she finally said.

  “I got that,” I said with a giggle through my own tears. “You tried everything short of hog-tying me with rope and duct tape.”

  “If I thought I could get away with it…” she started, and we both laughed.

  “You do know that you saved my life three years ago, right? I owe everything good that happens to me to you. Even this. I love you, Nancy.”

  She nodded. “I love you, too.” She squeezed my hands, overcome with the words that she couldn’t bear to say. “Be careful. Call me whenever you stop.”

  I nodded and got into my car. I wasn’t taking very much with me, given that I was set up like some kind of queen at the Fullerton mansion anyway. I just took a couple of boxes of my favorite books, a couple of suitcases and bin full of photos and memorabilia too precious to trust in a storage unit for a year.

  I waved at Nancy until I could no longer see her down the street, then turned toward the tangle of highways that would lead me to Interstate 20. This winding stretch of highway would be my companion through much of Texas.

  After Midland/Odessa, I hit a stretch of highway where the speed limit opened up 80 miles per hour. It helped ease the monotony of the endless, barren terrain of West Texas. A thunderstorm hit just before I reached the mountains east of El Paso, which lit up the night sky for my own personal light show just as Interstate 20 merged with Interstate 10.

  It was a straight shot to California from there on out.

  I stopped on the western edge of El Paso for the night, and within eight hours I was back out on the road. New Mexico offered the same desert scenery as West Texas, but thankfully not as long. I made it all the way to Tucson before I stopped again.

  I was in Los Angeles by six o’clock that Monday. Jonathan, who had texted me every hour on the hour the entire three-day journey, already had alerted Cleo when to expect my arrival, so there was a meal prepared for me the moment I pulled into the drive. Harrison unloaded my car while Jonathan dragged me around by the hand to show me all the changes that had been made for me.

  The guest room was now formally my room. The shelves had been emptied so I could decorate with my belongings, making the space my own. Drew had also allotted a room for me as my office, so I could keep my living space and my working space separate. The office was adjacent to his study downstairs, but Jonathan assured me his father hardly ever worked from home. I could feel free to work early in the morning or late into the evening without any fear of disturbing him.

  There were gift baskets waiting for me in my private bath. All the cosmetics I had used before were replenished with all sorts of oils and beads and fizzy bath bombs to help ease the stressors of my new position.

  My biggest stressor thus far was dealing with Drew. While we had formed a cordial working relationship over the last few months courtesy of video chat, I was worried how being under the same roof now would affect the burgeoning camaraderie we had managed to build. Things were working out so well that I didn’t want to be waylaid by another inappropriate dream. Thanks to Nancy and all her soap opera/reality TV/gossip mag jibber jabber, it had insidiously reprogrammed my subconscious to include things I normally never gave a second thought. Had she not been barking in my ear about what people would say about our
unconventional relationship, or think about me in the process, I wouldn’t have associated Drew and sex at all. That was definitely a complication I didn’t need, and I was fairly certain he didn’t even want, which made me feel even more foolish for having the dream in the first place.

  Initially I had been so thrown by the experience that I didn’t talk to Drew for a week following the dream. Fortunately he was busy enough that he probably never even noticed; which helped ease any lingering embarrassment.

  Admittedly I was slightly unnerved to see him in person. It had gnawed at my gut all 1452 miles from Texas to California. Much to my relief, I discovered Drew was not at the house when I arrived. He had flown to San Francisco that morning for a meeting, and wasn’t expected home until later that night.

  It gave me plenty of time to unpack and unwind. Jonathan helped for the most part, though I was sure it was just an excuse to hang out in my bedroom and chat and catch up. He had flown into my arms from the minute I had stepped out of my car. I wasn’t able to shake him loose most of the evening.

  He had made my cheeseburger meatloaf in honor of my homecoming, which had touched me. Since his father wasn’t home, we didn’t bother with the formal dining room. We ate in the kitchen, perched around the island, and then got right to the business of moving me in.

  Since I only had five boxes and two suitcases, that wasn’t a Herculean task by any stretch. He unpacked my books on the bookshelves, while I hung my clothes. The last bin, the last ties to my past, I shoved into a corner. They were close enough so that I would never forget, but hidden enough that I didn’t have to be painfully reminded of those things, and people, who were no more.

  By the time Drew came home, we were sitting by the pool outside, enjoying the mild summer evening with iced tea and powdered lemon cookies Cleo had baked especially for me.

  My breath caught as I watched him stride across the grass to where we sat, as if I had forgotten how commanding his very presence was. He looked powerful and imposing in his dark designer suit with ultra-fine pinstripes, styled from his cufflinks all the way down to his shiny, expensive shoes. He had already discarded his tie, so his stark white dress shirt was partially opened at the collar, revealing the tanned skin of his chest. I looked away instantly, though I couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.