Chapter 6

SIX

NOLAN

A mber grins at me like I've just made all her wishes come true. It's easy to see why she has so many fans. Her joy is infectious, and her smile lights up the room. Her awkward rambling has only made me like her more. I should have known when I agreed to stop by the party that I wouldn't be able to resist saying yes.

Because I secretly wanted to.

"You're serious?" she asks. Her face is wreathed with delight, and I can't stop thinking how wild it is that she's so certain of me—after nothing but a short meeting in a parking lot. Is she always so trusting? And, if she is, how has she survived being famous?

"I'm serious. You convinced me. I'll take the job."

"I did? Really?" She squeals. "Oh my goodness, I thought I'd bungled everything." She practically climbs into my lap as she leans forward to hug me. " Thank you . You aren't going to regret this. This is going to be the best job you've ever had, I promise."

Her enthusiasm is catching, and I can't stop myself from hugging her back as her arms lock around my torso and her loose curls brush against my neck. Her scent—a combination of mint and hair products—invades my senses. It's a friendly hug— the kind she's probably given every single person in this room, but my body lights up like she just claimed it.

Have I been clinging to her for too long? I'm not entirely sure since my brain is suddenly consumed by trying to convince my body that it shouldn't be this excited about a simple hug—even if the hugger is Amber Hope.

Once she releases me, I attempt to get myself back under control.

The zing of lust that I can't quite ignore suggests I've learned nothing in the first thirty-one years of my life. Mercifully, I have, and I'm smart enough to ignore any wayward feelings. I'm not a teenager with a crush. I'm a grown-ass man who can deal with a bit of longing. After all, Amber isn't the first beautiful woman to give me a hug, and, if I'm lucky, she won't be the last.

She beams at me, her knee brushing mine, and I barely resist hugging her again.

"Do you still have the contract?" she asks, seemingly oblivious to my thoughts. "Or should I get Brian to send it to you again?"

"I still have it."

"Excellent." She taps her chin. "Do you want to sign it now? Or do we need to make changes?" She shifts her attention behind me. "Brian," she shouts, "can you come here?"

A second later, Brian appears in my peripheral. He has his tablet clutched in one hand, and with his other he pops the button on his suit jacket and sits on the coffee table in front of me.

"Nolan has decided to take the job. Can you walk him through the contract?" she asks.

"Of course." He doesn't have to do anything other than tap the screen, and the contract appears. He taps once more and then swivels the device so it's facing me. "Have you read it?"

"I have."

"Perfect. The terms are flexible. Are there any changes you want to make at this time?"

I can't suggest an addendum that states, Will not lust after Amber , so I simply shake my head. "The terms are fine."

He scrolls through the legal jargon. "Would you like Amber to assume your mortgage payments while we're on the road?"

I'm startled by the offer. "Umm…no." Is that really something she does?

"Are you sure? You'll hardly be there. Even when we take a break in L.A., you'll spend more time here than there."

"I'd be happy to pay it," Amber interjects.

"Not necessary." I will pay my own mortgage. With the salary they're offering, plus the settlement from Little Acres, I can more than afford to pay my bills.

"Okay. Would you like someone to stop in and air the place out from time to time?"

"Truly?"

He flicks a glance in my direction. "When a place sits empty for weeks, it gets stale and dusty. It's useful to have a crew swing by once a month or so."

"Okay. That would be fine, I guess." I've never really thought about that being an issue, but if they're offering, I can accept small favors. It's the big ones I can't handle.

"Excellent." He keeps tapping away. "We can add to the contract as we go along if necessary. Nothing is set in stone. Except for the confidentiality. Click to initial, sign in the box, and then submit."

As I start clicking, Maddy leans forward and tumbles into me—her head lands on my thigh, and her chest settles against my leg. It's adorable when her fist finds her mouth, and she burrows against me like she's never been more comfortable.

"She's so happy," Amber says, blinking back a bit of moisture. "She knows you're going to take good care of her."

I look from Maddy to Amber. They both grin at me. Damn. I think I might be happy, too.

Isn't that something?

It isn't even eight the next morning and I'm sitting outside Amber's front gate, waiting for someone to buzz me in. When the gate slides open, I follow the curving stone driveway to the house. From the front, it almost looks modest. The outside has a modern feel, with cream-colored walls and black accents, but the design makes it impossible to tell how enormous the interior truly is. There's a distinct possibility my entire house would be able to fit into the great room everyone was gathered in yesterday.

I park to the side of the six-car garage and head toward the glass front door. It swings open before I hit the porch steps.

"Hey," Amber says with a welcoming smile.

Maddy is perched on her hip and she's wearing an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of leggings. Her face is scrubbed clean, and her hair is pulled into a loose ponytail. It's the third time I've seen her, and it hits me that I've never seen her glammed up. I ought to know better than to assume she sits around her house wearing smoky makeup and too many sparkles, but I'm still surprised.

With a slight shake of my head, I return her smile and then shift my focus to a slobbering Maddy. I'm a bit nervous, which is possibly the most ridiculous thing ever. If there's anything I'm good at, it's taking care of kids. I'm not going to fail at this. Nor am I going to let Amber down.

I might just ruin her for every nanny that comes after me.

A snort almost escapes my lips as I wink at Maddy and follow them into the house. The large living room is quiet and perfectly put together, all evidence from yesterday's party gone.

"So, it's Friday," Amber says as she sinks onto the ground. She lays Maddy on her back and holds up both a ring with chunky movable shapes and a light-up toy with brightly colored buttons. Maddy ignores both and rolls onto her stomach, so Amber sets them in front of her and switches her attention to me. "We weren't supposed to go into full preparation mode until Monday, but since you agreed to start today, I managed to round up my band for rehearsal this morning, and my dancers for rehearsal this afternoon."

"You rehearse at your house?" The tour she gave me yesterday before I left didn't include a studio—let alone a room with enough space to practice choreography.

"Sometimes. I have a recording studio here, and a room specially designed for dance rehearsals, so we'll be here until the week of the first show. Then we'll spend a couple of days on a soundstage that's much bigger, and then we'll be in the arena rehearsing for two full days."

"Okay." I'll deal with the week of the show later. For now, all I need to consider is today. "Is there a particular schedule you want me to follow during the day?"

She makes a face. "I haven't really mastered the whole keep-your-baby-on-a-schedule thing. I've tried, but things usually go sideways. If she seems fussy, I feed her. Or put her down for a nap." She chews on her lip. "Full disclosure—she hates napping. It takes me at least as long to get her to sleep as she spends actually sleeping."

That doesn't surprise me. Babies are notoriously bad at falling asleep. "You usually shoot for two naps during the day?"

"Umm…I guess." She shifts onto her knees. "As I said, I haven't found a consistent schedule. I don't want to micromanage you. I mean—I'll probably try sometimes, but if you find a schedule that works for you, I'm going to follow your lead, not the other way around. If you can get her to nap once, I'll be thrilled. Two or three times, I'll erect a monument in your honor."

I chuckle. "Sounds good. Anything else?"

"You can't leave the grounds," she says in a rush.

"Ever?"

"When you're with Maddy," she clarifies.

"You don't take her places?"

"Obviously, once the tour starts, she'll be traveling with us. But I don't take her out in L.A. There are too many people and too much interest. We could get mobbed. Or worse."

"What about swim lessons?"

She winces. "That was the first time I've done anything like that. You saw how well it turned out." She picks up a wooden caterpillar and absently tugs it apart, piece by piece. "It isn't that I don't want Maddy to socialize and experience things. I thought we had everything under control for our first outing, but—" She shrugs. "I shouldn't have taken her on my own. I don't have a normal life, and I…shouldn't pretend I do."

"It's going to be hard to shield her while you're on tour, isn't it?" I have no trouble remembering what it was like going places with my father when I was young. I didn't do it often, but when I did, the attention was oppressive. Sometimes, I felt like I could hardly breathe.

She sighs, her blue eyes pained. "I know. But we'll have a lot of security, and now that I have you, I should be able to distract the press and the fans. Not completely, maybe, but hopefully it'll be enough." She starts to put the caterpillar back together.

"We'll figure it out," I say with more confidence than I feel. I wish there was something I could say to ease her worry, but she's too smart to believe empty platitudes. "Until then, we'll stay on your property."

"Thank you," she responds softly. "I should—do you want me to show you the studio?"

Strictly speaking, I don't need a full tour of the house. She showed me around the main level and the backyard yesterday, plus Maddy's nursery and the connected playroom, so I've already seen what I need to in order to do my job. But that doesn't mean I'm not curious about where she works. "Do you have time?"

"Not much. Maybe I can just show you where it's at? I want you to feel comfortable interrupting me if Maddy needs something. Mina's around here somewhere, but even when I'm working, Maddy comes first." Her words are measured, and it's hard to tell if she's nervous about leaving Maddy with me or just nervous about leaving Maddy in general.

"Understood."

I scoop Maddy off the floor and follow Amber toward the back of the house.

A few minutes later, after a quick glance inside the studio, Amber leans against my forearm as she presses a kiss into Maddy's curls. "I love you, sweet girl," she whispers.

I dip my head like I expect her to drop a kiss into my hair, too.

She pulls away from Maddy, and the brush of cool air against my arm alerts me to the fact that I'm being ridiculous. As subtly as I can, I raise my chin and try to act normal. I must succeed, because she smiles and says, "I'll see you guys between rehearsals."

"Sounds good. Hope it goes smoothly." Fortunately, my voice sounds ordinary.

I wave awkwardly, and then Maddy and I walk through the house and into the backyard. The air is already warm and sticky. We bypass the pool and follow a narrow path through the foliage. With every step I take, I try to brush off imagining her kissing my forehead.

It doesn't take long for us to get to the play area that's tucked against the western wall. Surrounded by a smaller fence, it has a jungle gym, a couple of slides, and two swings. Maddy isn't mobile enough to enjoy anything other than the baby swing, so I strap her in and pull her feet before letting her drop. She giggles happily as drool trickles down her chin.

I occupy myself by snapping a few pictures of her with my phone. I send them to Amber and then immediately wonder if I'm allowed to do that. She must take pictures of her daughter, but that doesn't mean she wants me to. She's rightfully worried about privacy, and I respect her concern.

I get sick of pushing well before Maddy gets sick of swinging. Since it's my first day and a happy baby makes for a happy caregiver, I don't stop until it looks like she's about to doze off.

I unbuckle her, pick her up, and take her back to the house, where I warm up a bottle, feed her, and pop her into her crib. Without even opening her eyes, she falls into a deep sleep the moment I set her down.

I drop into the rocking chair in the corner, feeling more than a little unnerved. It's only been a few hours, and I feel satisfied in a way I haven't been in years. There's something so fulfilling about taking care of children. There's a tangible sense of accomplishment that I almost never achieved once I became headmaster. It's a feeling I've been chasing, and rarely catching, since I was a teenager tasked with caring for my younger siblings and nieces and nephews.

The difference is, back then, I was never one-on-one with the same child hour after hour. I'm going to be spending a good chunk of my time with Maddy Hope-Lance, and I can already tell it's going to be nearly impossible for me to keep a professional distance.

Amber texts me four smiley faces, so she must be fine with me taking pictures. Maddy makes a whimpering sound from her crib, and as I fly out of the chair to check on her, I can't deny that she's already well on her way to stealing my heart.

On Sunday, Amber is in the studio at the other end of the house while Maddy and I lounge on the playroom floor. It rained earlier, so we've been hanging inside while the sun and heat dry the puddles.

We steadily make our way through the board books on the bottom shelf of the enormous bookcase in the corner. It's hard to tell if Maddy's happy because she enjoys listening to me read, or because she enjoys chewing on cardboard. Either way, I pick up another book and use my best hippopotamus voice to start reading.

About twenty-five books later, she starts yawning and rubbing her eyes, so I warm up her bottle, feed her, and rock her until she's asleep. Then, I carefully cross into the nursery, pop her into her crib, pull the door mostly closed, and quietly reshelve the books in the playroom.

"Hello, Maddy girl," a voice booms from the hallway.

I glance up at the exact moment Teddy Lance steps into the doorway of the playroom. I'm shocked to see him, although I know I shouldn't be, since Maddy is his daughter.

He looks exactly the same as he does on the covers of magazines. No photoshopping necessary for his perfectly symmetrical features, striking green eyes, or artfully disheveled hair.

I've met loads of celebrities, and they're rarely as picture-perfect in person as they appear on camera, but somehow both Teddy and Amber are even more attractive in real life. Maybe that's why they fell in love.

"Shhhh." I gesture toward the cracked door of the nursery. "Maddy's sleeping."

Teddy's mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

Mina suddenly appears behind him and pulls him out of the doorway. I grab the monitor, follow them into the hallway, and shut the playroom door quietly.

" Teddy ," Mina says with a brittle smile. "What are you doing here? We didn't expect you until later."

"Who's this?" he asks, eyeing me and not answering her question.

"This is Nolan Byrne. He's going on tour with us. He's…uhh…the new family assistant."

Teddy's brows draw together. "What's a family assistant?"

It's a valid question. Why do they keep calling it that? I'm not going to shy away from my role, so I stick out my hand and translate. "Nanny. It's nice to meet you, man."

It isn't exactly the truth. Meeting Teddy is more than a little awkward—somehow, Amber and I haven't talked about him at all.

"Amber hired a male nanny," he says with a peculiar expression on his face.

Mina puts her hands on her hips. "Do you have a problem with a man taking care of children?"

"No," he says quickly. His hand starts to move forward like he's going to shake mine, but then it pauses midair. "Of course not. I didn't know Amber had hired someone. I assumed…it's just…nannies are usually women for a reason, right?"

Mina stiffens, drops her hands, and glares at him. "Are they?"

"I mean…no…yes?"

"And what is the reason?" she asks through clenched teeth.

"Women are good with kids?" The pitch of his voice rises with each word.

He's obviously flustered, and Mina's fists are clenching like she wants to punch him, so I try to de-escalate the situation. "I'm good with kids, too, and I promise I'm very qualified."

"Yes…of course. Amber would never let someone near Maddy who wasn't qualified." He finally reaches out and grips my palm tightly.

After a firm shake, we let go and stare at each other.

Even though Amber hasn't discussed Teddy with me, it isn't as if I don't know their story. Six, maybe seven, years ago, they met on tour. Fell in love. Dated for a year or so before he was caught screwing one of her dancers after one of their shows. Their breakup was highly publicized, and she moved on, released more albums, won awards, toured solo, and became a bona fide star. He moved on, too, but his star didn't rise quite as much, and he's constantly in the tabloids for one misadventure or another.

Last year, out of the blue, Amber revealed she was having his baby. The media went nuts, but they haven't been photographed together since the announcement, and, to my knowledge, neither of them has commented on the status of their relationship since Maddy was born.

Is it possible they're together?

Although, if they were, wouldn't she have mentioned Teddy to me, and vice versa?

I'm not particularly keen on speculating or guessing, and I'm also not particularly keen on putting my foot in my mouth, so I keep my questions to myself. Luckily, the silence doesn't extend long, because Mina wrinkles her nose and says, "You weren't supposed to be here until three."

"Sure…but…uh…Amber doesn't mind if I stop by early."

Mina puts her hands on her hips again. "Amber's in the studio right now."

The vibes Mina's giving off could not be less friendly, but Teddy's either oblivious or very good at ignoring hostility, because he nods and asks, "Is she rehearsing for the tour?"

"Obviously. It starts in less than three weeks."

"I could pop into the studio. See what they're working on." He starts to brush past her.

"No." She makes a slashing motion in front of her throat and blocks him. "You may not. You know she doesn't like distractions."

He sighs. "I know. I won't interrupt. I'll just listen. It isn't like she'd let me join her even if I did ask."

"We both know you won't be able to stop yourself from interrupting. You'd give your left nut if Amber would let you sing with her again."

"Ouch." He winces but doesn't contradict her. "Fine. I guess I'll sit by the pool until Amber's done or Maddy wakes up."

"Or you could go home and come back at three like you were supposed to."

"Mina," he groans. "I swear to you that Amber told me I could stop by early on Sundays if I wasn't busy. She wants me to spend time with my daughter."

"I'm not saying you can't wait by the pool. I'm simply saying you might be waiting for a long time."

Now he puts his hands on his hips, his pose mirroring hers. "Why are you always busting my ass?"

She shrugs, like it's obvious, but otherwise doesn't respond.

He sighs and turns his attention to me. "Want to join me by the pool? We can get to know each other."

I can think of many things I'd like to do more than get to know Teddy Lance, but he is Maddy's father, so I follow him anyway.

When we get outside, the humidity is off the charts, but the sun is high in the sky, and other than a few puddles, everything is dry. Teddy kicks off his shoes, rolls up his jeans, and sits down at the edge of the pool. Not sure what else to do, I lower myself onto the concrete next to him.

"I love the sun," he says as he leans back on his hands and tips his face up toward the sky. "And the water." He swirls it lazily with his feet. "I used to swim. Competitively. When I was a kid."

He's making small talk. Or just reminiscing. It's hard to tell. I can't quite get a read on him. "That's cool. I learned how to swim when I was little, but it was always a casual thing for me."

"I was decent at it. Not amazing, but good enough to compete." He leans farther back onto his hands, the picture of ease. "What were you good at when you were a kid?"

It's a pointed question, and it almost feels like a challenge. A challenge I can't win. I wasn't a particularly gifted child, so it takes me a second to come up with an answer, and even when I do, it doesn't make me sound very impressive. "Uhhh…running, I guess."

"You were fast?"

"Not particularly. But I liked it. I still do."

"Hmm. I've always hated running. Too boring." He shifts forward and dips his fingers into the water. "It's funny—I hadn't been in a pool in years before Maddy was born. It seemed like an easy activity to do with her. And, luckily, she really likes the water, so we go swimming almost every time I come over. I'd forgotten how much I enjoy the peacefulness of it."

I'm not sure if he's aware of the swimming lesson debacle, so I don't mention it. Instead, I say, "Amber did tell me Maddy loves the water, but I haven't taken her in the pool yet."

"I'm usually the one to take her in," he says. "Did she tell you that?" He sounds defensive, and I'm not sure what to do about it, so I simply shake my head. He frowns, then shifts forward even more and drags his fingers through the water. "What did Amber tell you about me?"

"I just started a couple of days ago. She hasn't…uh…mentioned you. Yet."

"Of course not." He exhales and flips water across the pool with the backs of his fingers. It's a casual move, but it doesn't mask his disappointment. "But you know about me?"

The easy answer is yes. "You're Maddy's father, and you and Amber used to date," I say carefully.

He snorts and practically folds himself in half so that his arms are submerged to the middle of his biceps. He hasn't stopped moving since we sat down. Is he nervous?

"You know more about me than that," he says. "The whole world knows more about me than that. Everyone knows if Amber had to pick a man to father her child, I'd be near the bottom of her list. Maybe even at the bottom. Maddy was a surprise, and if I'm being honest, I still can't believe Amber let me within twenty feet of her that night in Paris. I fully expected to be rejected when I came onto her." He sighs. "If she hadn't gotten pregnant, I think she would have gone back to ignoring me. Once Maddy was born, she decided to tolerate me, but that's it."

I can't believe he revealed those things so bluntly. Does he go around sharing personal, intimate details about himself with everyone? It's no wonder he's constantly in the tabloids.

Does he like the scrutiny?

"You visit Maddy regularly?" I ask, desperate to redirect the conversation.

"I do. That's what I'm trying to explain to you. Amber lets me see Maddy, but only on her terms." He straightens his legs, and his toes pop out of the water. "She doesn't trust me."

"Should she?" I ask, more than a little confused about what response he expects from me.

He laughs outright. "Probably not. I'm not saying she's wrong— I'm just trying to give you the whole picture. You clearly weren't prepared to meet me." He pulls his arms out of the water and stands in a fluid motion. "I trust Amber more than I've ever trusted anyone, and I want to make amends with her." He pulls off his shirt and tosses it onto one of the lounge chairs. "I think I'm going to swim."

He kicks off his jeans and, without another word, dives into the pool. Then he starts swimming laps like I'm not even there.

I have no interest in watching him, so I rise to my feet and reenter the house. I can't help wondering exactly what he was trying to explain to me. Or why I'm now so curious about the relationship between him and Amber.