Heiress for Hire (Cuttersville #2)(28)
Author: Erin McCarthy

A girl he hadn’t known at all, and never would. It was humbling and hard to stomach at twenty-six, when he was more mature, calmer, his body not aching with misunderstood urges, overwhelmed with sexual need.

Or at least, that’s the way he usually was. Amanda had a tendency to make him urgent, but all he had to do was think about Nina to remind himself that decisions based on sexual want were bad ones.

"Of course I remember your mother. She was a nice girl when I knew her—always smiling and laughing. But I didn’t know her when she got older, grew up a bit. Most people are a bit different once they get married and have kids. I was just wondering what she was like with you."

"She still laughed a lot." Piper twisted her cap on her head and dug her toes into the hard white plastic edge of the chair. "But she yelled sometimes too. I have a little brother, you know. He’s two. She yelled at Marcus a lot because he cries all the time. I don’t think she ever yelled at me that much, but maybe I don’t remember."

Danny reached for his beer, picked at the label, his throat tight with guilt. "I didn’t know you have a brother."

"He’s pretty cute, ‘cept he can get on my nerves too. But that’s the way it is with brothers, you know."

"No, I don’t know. I’m an only child."

Piper looked up at him and frowned. "That’s sad." And she leaned just a little closer to him.

Danny’s chest tightened even further. "But now I’ve got you, so it’s okay."

"My mom never minded Anita. When Mark used to yell at me and tell me to stop talking about her, Mom would tell him to leave me alone. That Anita didn’t eat much so why was he complaining?"

Danny laughed. So Nina had had a sense of humor.

"And she used to sing to me sometimes at night. I miss that."

Unable to resist, he shifted her, lifting her with his right arm until she was on his thigh, settled in the crook of his arm. When she didn’t protest or wiggle away, he spoke in a low voice. "I’m not much of a singer, but maybe if you teach me the songs, we can sing them together. I bet your mom would like that."

"You think so?" Her eyes were so solemn, her voice soft, her cheeks stark white in the glow of the moon and the kitchen light from the house.

"I think so. And maybe we should go visit your mom where she’s buried. Take her some flowers. I need to thank her for giving me you. Would you like to do that?"

"Maybe." She shifted on him, settled in a little more against his chest. "Are you really my father?"

Danny spread the palm of his hand on her warm back, stroked his thumb back and forth. He nodded, never so sure of anything in his whole life. "Yes, I really am."

"That’s good," she whispered.

That it was.

Amanda bit a French fry as she walked into her kitchen. It tasted so damn good, she had to close her eyes for a second.

"Aaahhh. Good thing I’m alone. I think I just had an orgasm," she said to her Burger King bag.

Never again would she take fast food for granted. When Danny had dropped her off at the end of her first day nannying, she had gone into the house and found another four dollars and seventeen cents in pennies. And promptly turned on her heels and walked the block to Burger King, where she had gotten a sandwich-fry-gigantic-soft-drink combo.

Perhaps not the wisest use of her unexpected windfall, but man alive, she was hungry. The ham and pretzels at Danny’s hadn’t even dented her appetite. She had a whole week’s worth of eating to make up for, and a Whopper was a big lead on accomplishing that.

Besides, Baby had needed the walk after being stuck in the house all day. Jamming three more fries in her mouth, she picked up the phone and dialed Brady Stritmeyer’s number.

"Hey, it’s Amanda," she said, chewing her fries, when Brady answered. "How’s your leg?"

"Annoying. What’s up?"

"You need some cash? I’ve got a job for you." She was still pleased at her brilliance in coming up with this scheme. Bedroom on a budget, she was all over it.

"Cash is good. But I’m kind of incapacitated right now. What’s the job?"

"Painting butterflies on Piper’s bedroom wall. We’ll sit you in a stool, you’ll be fine."

"Sure, I could do that. Butterflies, huh? Realistic or cartoon-like?"

"Pink and purple in whatever style you want. You tell me what supplies you need, and I’ll get them."

"Cool. What’s the pay?"

Like she knew. Nor had she discussed an actual budget with Danny, but surely he wouldn’t begrudge a little paint. He seemed pretty eager to make Piper happy.

"What do you usually charge?" There, that sounded like she knew what she was talking about.

"Ten bucks an hour. It will probably take me about eight hours to sketch it out and paint it."

"Ten bucks! Are you sure?" She was fairly certain her mother’s decorator would charge a thousand bucks to have a wall mural painted. It seemed cruel to have Brady do it for only eighty, with a broken leg besides.

"Is that too much? I’m not trying to stiff Danny or anything. I can take eight bucks an hour."

Amanda reached for another fry. "No, no, ten is fine. I just thought you might want more."

"Oh."

There was a silence where they both seemed to be trying to figure out where the other was coming from, before Brady let out a snort. "Ten is good. And if you want the walls painted first with a color or a base paint, you’ll have to do that. I’m not up for standing on a ladder or anything."

"Paint the walls first. I can do that." She had thought maybe they would use a crisp white instead of the dirty beige that was on there now. That way Brady would have a blank canvas to start with. "Thanks, Brady. I’ll go to the paint store tomorrow, so I’ll call you when I’m there and you can tell me what to get. I’d like you to get started over the weekend or Monday. Sound good?"

"Cool. Talk to you later, A."

"Bye."

She liked that kid. He was flaky, yet all there at the same time. Sort of like how she saw herself. And damn, could Brady draw.

Well enough that she was willing to eat up some cell phone minutes and call Stuart in New York.

"Hey, I have an artist for you."

"Well, hello to you too, Miss Fell Off the Face of the Earth."

"Miss me? Guess what, you’re the only one." She shoved another fry in her mouth. These things were addictive. Every time one was in her mouth, she felt just a little bit better.

"Uncle Brett put out the word that no one is to assist you, my little debutante, in getting yourself anywhere. What gives between you two? That’s a little harsh even for him."