The Babysitter (8 page)

“One must maintain their appearance at all times, darling.” Mom had tossed her blond weave over her shoulders and blown me an air kiss like we were best friends versus the reality—lackey and master, overbearing mom and subservient daughter. “Stay to yourself these six weeks while I’m gone. Phones and cameras are everywhere, recording and judging. We don’t need any extra attention.”

Thompson turned off the car, got out, and headed to my door. I sighed as those blue contacts sparkled back at me in the mirror. “Well, I can’t take them out now.”

My hands weren’t clean enough to start messing around with my eyes. Plus, I didn’t have my contact case or solution.

Thompson opened the door. Tossing my mirror into my purse, I took his hand and climbed out. If I didn’t get this moment over with, I was going to explode into a frenzy of anxious bursts. My nerves flared on edge as I picked up the gift bag. A print of colorful apples covered it.

I hope Jude laughs when he sees the apples.

“Let me get that bag for you, Miss Rain.” Thompson reached for it.

“I’m fine.” I held up my hands to stop him. “Thanks, Thompson. By the way, take the night off. Mom’s out of town. She won’t find out about you getting some free time to yourself. You definitely deserve it.”

Thompson flinched at the mention of Mom. “Miss Rain, I do not like this game. It’s unhealthy for your mind. You should stop pretending that your mother is still alive.”

“It’s fine. Just play along with me. The mind is the creator of everything around me, so if I choose—”

“I won’t be a part of this.”

I tapped my foot on the ground in annoyance. “Okay. I’m sorry. I won’t play the mom game with you anymore.”

“Thank you. And, I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone this weekend. Are you sure?” He glanced at the mansion’s front door. The song lyrics to “After the Storm” were engraved into the white wood and painted in black. “I’d feel more comfortable with being the one to drive you and Mr. Jude around.”

“Thank you for the offer, but that won’t be necessary. I’m a big girl, Thompson.” I formed my lips into a wide smile. “Please. If something happens, and trust me it won’t, but if it does, I’ll make sure to call you immediately.”

He rubbed his bald head and dropped his shoulders in defeat. “Please call me if you need me, and check in every day.”

“Of course.”

“What day and time should I pick you up?”

“There’s no need. Like I said before, Jude will take me home later. We’re hanging out the whole weekend so I don’t need you to come by Saturday or Sunday. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Well then” —He did another quick glance at the house — “since I won’t see you on Sunday, happy birthday, Miss Rain.”

“Thanks so much. And you have a good night.”

“I’ll keep my phone next to me just in case your plans change.” He dragged himself back to the front of the town car.

“Bye.” I headed to the mansion’s entrance. Worry pulsed in my veins, but I did my best to ignore it.

Hi, Jude. Yes. I know I’m here early, but there’s something important I want to talk about. Remember when we joked last year on my birthday about you taking away my v-card if I was still with it at twenty? Ha ha. Yes. That was so funny, but do you remember your promise?

I wobbled in my heels as I approached his door and almost dropped the small gift bag. My hands shook. My teeth clattered against themselves as my heart boomed at a staccato pace. Dampness appeared under my arms and probably soaked into the red, sleeveless dress I wore.

I should have put on the black dress. Why did I wear red?

I stunk of peach lotion and rose perfume. I’d lathered so much lotion on my light brown legs that they shined and gave off a glossy look. Next, I’d spilled a whole bottle of perfume in my lap.

Sweat, peaches, and roses. Jude will vomit before I even get to ask him.

I combed my fingers through my curls. I usually straightened them with a flat iron until they were a long mass of brown and blond streaked strands that hung past my waist. But, Jude loved my hair natural. I didn’t care what my mother thought since Jude loved it this way. He said it added to my exotic look, made me look Brazilian or a mixture of many different races, instead of the look that helped me fit in. Being half Jamaican and white guaranteed I didn’t fit in with African Americans at my college or identify with any of the Caucasian preppy kids from my high school years. I was an anomaly to all except Jude who took me for what I was and never expected anything more or less.

I look fine. It’s just Jude. Everything will be okay. He’ll
so
understand.

I knocked on the door with shivering fingers. The gift bag swung back and forth in my other hand. Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. I figured it was Douglas, his butler.

“Jude, are you expecting anybody?” That deep voice flowed from the other side and froze me. I recognized that voice. Kaden. Jude’s father. I spun around to leave, but the heels slowed my pace. My town car had already left.
Damn it.
Right as I slipped my phone out of my purse, the door squeaked open.

“Hello?” Kaden asked behind me.

Think. How do I get out of this? Maybe I just won’t let him see my face.

“Um. . . never mind.” I kept my back to him and turned my phone on. “I left something in my car. . . I’ll be right back and then—”

“Rainbow? Is that you?”

My shoulders tensed. He remained behind me and I refused to turn. “Yes. I’ll be right back.”

Kaden stepped around and faced me. “Dear God, you’re beautiful! You’ve grown so big.”

“Thanks.”

Now what do I do?

Kaden’s blue-eyed gaze greeted my eyes. He was a gorgeous face outlined in ruffled brown waves. He embraced me, encasing my body in hard, muscular arms and designer cologne. When I was a little girl, he’d towered over me. Now he still was still taller but my head at least reached his shoulders. Not sure of what else to do, I hugged him back and readied my lies. He’d have questions, ones that I’d rather not answer and things that I avoided thinking about.

“Where have you been?” He leaned away from me and looked just like Jude but an older version with less of a tan.

He wore no shirt. Sleek layers of muscle wrapped around his waist and shoulders. An intricate pattern of colorful tattoos decorated both of his arms. It was a mural of his life—stars that intertwined with musical notes; guitars interlocked into microphones; nude, big breasted angels riding hulky demons. Those arms and that face had adorned the covers of magazines for years. Now he represented a legend of rock history. To obtain his interview would mean lots of money and skilled maneuvering through his agent, publicist, bodyguards, entourage, and any of the other people that walled him away from society. Just driving onto his property had required Thompson’s and my names to be checked on a long list at the front security gate of approved individuals.

“Where have you been all of these years?” Kaden asked.

Here we go.

“I’ve been in Miami the whole time, and now I’m up in Sarasota at Ringling College of Art and Design.” I edged away from him.

“Well, I know that, but why haven’t you returned my calls, emails, or any of the messages I sent through Jude? I travel the world with my tours and movies; it’s hard enough to keep in contact with Jude, but with you it’s been impossible.” Hurt glazed those blue eyes.

My stomach clenched into guilty knots. “I thought it would be best if I kept minimum contact with Dad’s friends.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why?”

“To ease the mourning process.” I stared down at the ground. “I’m sorry.”

“No. That’s fine.” He placed his fingers on my chin and lifted my view to him. “I don’t want you to feel bad or anything. I just really wanted to be in your life. You’re Jack’s girl for God’s sake. You’re Rainbow.”

I cringed at the nickname. “No one calls me that anymore. I only go by Rain.”

“You’re Rainbow to me.” His gaze traveled down my body. He instantly looked away, cursed under his breath, and moved around me to the door. “You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you.”

I followed him into the house. “Well, I was fifteen.”

“Well, you’re damn sure not fifteen anymore. You’re bloody captivating.” He captured my hand and guided me toward the solid white entryway toward the kitchen. The door slammed closed behind us. A huge staircase rested on our right. On our left were sitting and entertainment rooms full of the band Depraved Minds’ awards. In a smaller room, where not many people ventured into, stood my father’s prized piano and so many memories of him that it suffocated me to just step inside. Although we didn’t go inside of it, my stomach twisted into gloomy knots.

An abstract expressionist painting done by Jackson Pollock hung in the center wall above the hallway to the kitchen. One of the best things about Kaden was that he had an incredible eye for art. The painting exemplified the artists’ great drip painting method. I’d read in several of Pollock’s interviews that many times he had simply set a canvas on the floor, poured and dripped paint on it until he believed it was done. It was similar to Kaden and Dad’s songwriting process. I had witnessed them creating song after song on the
After the Storm
album. They would lay blank sheets of music on the floor right next to their instruments and spill out pictures of themes and symbols that inspired them. For hours, they fondled piano keys and caressed guitar strings, searching for the song they yearned to sing.

“Did you ever do beauty queen pageants like your mom? If you did, I bet you won tons of them.”

Has he forgotten what I looked like as a teen?

“No way. Mom tried.” It was one of the few things I’d put my foot down on when it had came to my overbearing mother. No freaking beauty pageants. “I couldn’t do it. Being Miss Jamaica’s daughter and then entering a pageant would pretty much load a whole lot of unwanted expectations and criticisms my way.”

“I forgot she won. When Jack met her, she was dreaming about being Miss Jamaica. It was all she talked about. So many years have passed by.”

“Yeah.”

“Can I get that for you?” He gestured to the gift bag.

“No.” I put it behind my back. “I’ve got it.”

Why didn’t Jude tell me his father was in town? I’m going to kill him.

“It’s been five years.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s too long, Rainbow.” He got in front of me before I could walk into the kitchen. “No more avoiding me. I know the whole band could’ve done more for you when your parents died. I think we were just all taken aback by that tragedy, but you’re a woman now. I’m here for you if you ever need me. Call me anytime.”

“I’ll try.”

He shook his head. “Do more than try.”

“Dad! You have any condoms?” Jude rushed down the staircase with only his boxers on, and what a glorious sight that was. Nervousness from earlier surged back into me.
Goodness.
He was honey poured over an athletic body. Short, sandy blond curls outlined his face, which boasted full lips, high cheek bones, and long lashes that should have been placed on a woman. Even with those soft features, his face appeared hard and sculpted by an artist. “I need a few condoms. I ran out.”

It’s early in the evening and he’s already having sex with some female. This night gets better and better.

It was then that Jude noticed me standing there.

“Fuck! Rain, what are you doing here so early?” He glanced at his watch. “I thought I was supposed to pick you up in three hours.”

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What?” He skipped over to me and pulled me into a hug. “You better not be canceling out on me. Damn, I love this dress, and your hair is so sexy. What’s this bag about right here?”

“Nothing.” I tried to move the bag out of his reach, but he yanked it out of my hands.

Everything fell out. The packet of condoms, warming strawberry lubrication, furry glow-in-the-dark handcuffs, my iPod full of the unique playlist for tonight, and the hotel key card all dropped to the floor in front of him. The urge to escape bounced around in my body. Silence met my ears. No one moved for a few seconds, and when they did it was a rush to sling everything back into the bag.

I covered my face. “This is so embarrassing.”

A smirk plastered on Jude’s face. “Dad, could you give us a minute?”

“Sure.” The handcuffs dangled in Kaden’s fingers as he studied them.
Just awesome.
They were meant to be a joke to lighten the topic, but now Kaden probably thought I was a horn dog.

“Dad, could you go ahead and give us some time?” Jude cleared his throat. “Now, please.”

“Oh, yeah. My bad.” Kaden avoided looking my way. “Rain, don’t leave this house without finishing our conversation.”

“Okay,” I mumbled.

Once Kaden disappeared into the kitchen with my handcuffs tucked in his back pocket, I scurried toward the door. “Okay. Pretend you didn’t see that. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m actually feeling a bit sick.”

Jude seized my waist from behind and towed me back to him. “Stop, Rain.”

I leaned back into him, not wanting to show him my blushing face. “I’m not playing. Pretend that didn’t just happen.”

Laughter bubbled out from his chest. “Lube, really? Who’s that going in, me or you?”

I spun around and hit his chest. “Not funny. And you didn’t see that or anything else. We don’t talk about this.”

“We’re definitely talking about this.” He covered his mouth, but a chuckle fled between his fingers. “Holy shit. Did you see my dad’s face?”

“Hello. It didn’t happen.” I waved my hands. “Nothing occurred.”

He studied the apples on the front. “I give you an A for symbolism.”

Years ago, he’d proclaimed in a drunken stupor that the act of a woman giving her virginity to a man was like Eve handing over the apple to Adam.

“The world would change for everyone involved,” he had slurred. “She’d see things clearer and so would he. No more garden of Eden for her. She’d be cast out into deserted territory, Rain. Save your apple! For all of the world’s sake, save your apple!”

I had called him a moron and he’d passed out on my bed.