10. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Lisette
I drive through Jackson’s gated community slowly, marveling at all of the huge houses. When I make it to the end of the street, a beautiful house stares back at me, and I almost think I have the wrong address until I see the pink door he told me I won’t miss.
I marvel at the sleek black two story house. All of his windows are tinted so the clear sky stares back at me, and while I can’t see the inside, I’m sure it’s just as nice as the exterior.
Tall palm trees are planted on either side of the house with five steps leading up to the door. There’s a balcony on the right side and under that is a tall gate, blocking off what I’m sure is a lavish backyard.
“Yup.” I nod to myself as I drive up his long driveway. “He’s rich as shit.”
I try to shake off the shock of how big this house is as I step out of the car. When I ring the doorbell, I fully expect to hear church bells or something, but it’s a standard bell.
A minute passes before the door opens slowly. When I hear a loud grunt, I look down and Isabelle is struggling to open the big door, so I help her with a push.
“Excuse me,” Jackson yells angrily and she jumps as she turns around. “What did we talk about yesterday?” He comes up behind her, and she takes a step away from the door as she looks up at him.
“Not to open the door,” she mumbles, and he gives her a stern look, but doesn’t say anything for almost a full minute. A short laugh escapes me at how awkward it grows and Isabelle looks up at me before she covers her smile with her hand.
“It’s not funny,” Jackson tells her and her smile is gone. “Don’t open it again.”
“Okay, Daddy.” She turns to me and her smile is back. “Hi, Lissy. Sorry about that.” She waves at her dad, and I bite back a laugh at his face, but he doesn’t reprimand her again. “Let me give you a tour of our new castle.”
“It definitely looks like a castle.” I look up from the marble floors to the high ceiling in awe before looking over at Jackson. “Hello, Jackson Jones.”
“Hello, Lissy.” He smiles in return and I roll my eyes at him. Before I can remind him that only his kid is allowed to call me that, she drags me around the house for the tour.
“This is my favorite part.” Isabelle races me back down the stairs after the tour upstairs. At the end of this hall are two sliding doors. “Ready?” She turns to me.
“I don’t know,” I tease. “I’m still trying to process the indoor arcade upstairs.”
Her dad laughs from behind me and she ignores me as she opens the sliding doors to reveal what I’m assuming is her dad’s office. It’s a standard office, but the entire wall in front and beside his desk is a window to the backyard and the yard somehow seems bigger than the house.
“This is my favorite part,” Isabelle exclaims, and I expect her to be pointing at the pool, but she’s sitting in a smaller version of Jackson’s desk with a pink chair. “This is my office.” She gestures in front of her and I break into a laugh.
“What’s your job?”
She folds her hands on her desk as she looks up at me. “I’m a gymnastics sports agent.”
I smile at her words and behind me, Jackson mumbles, “And the bakery.”
“Oh.” She looks back over at me. “And I own a bakery and I’m a mother, of course, you met Lola.”
“Yes, I did.” I nod in thought as I remember her doll. Looking around the office, unlike the rest of the house where pictures of both Isabelle and Jackson fill up the walls, here are just pictures of Isabelle from a photoshoot when she was a newborn. “Now I understand how you’re able to afford such a big castle.”
She nods like she agrees with me and I turn to Jackson with a smile. “Nice castle, JJ.” I nod once and he tilts his head back with a laugh.
“Now it’s JJ?”
“Yup.” I smile over at him. “Or would you prefer just Jones?”
His face scrunches as if that will pain him. “Please no.”
I let out a soft laugh and he turns more serious. “Thanks,” he says for my earlier compliment.
“Lissy, let me show you my gymnastic moves.” Isabelle jumps to press a button on the wall, and what I thought was a floor-to-ceiling window slides to the left, letting her out to the backyard.
I nod in amusement. “You better live here long after you retire,” I mumble.
Jackson lets out a soft laugh as he steps beside me. “Yeah, that’s the plan. I know it’s a bit over the top, but I wanted her forever home to be perfect. Something she can sell when I’m gone if she needs to.”
I look up at him and he watches his daughter flip around the grass. As his eyes follow her movement, I’m certain he’d commit inhumane crimes for his kid.
“Considering you could afford all this, I think she’ll be okay without selling the house when you’re gone,” I say with a laugh and he looks down at me with a smile.
When I look back around at all of the pictures, I turn to him in thought. “Are you self-absorbed and obsessed with your kid or are pictures of her mom not allowed?”
When his face drops, I realize I hit a nerve.
“The few I have of them together don’t match our aesthetic,” he jokes, but it’s way too bitter for me to even fake a laugh.
“I’m going to take that as pictures of her aren’t allowed.”
A smile forces itself onto his face.
“Damn.” I offer a smile. “If I knew you two hated each other so much, I wouldn’t have brought her up.” I put a hand up in defense, and he doesn’t even offer a smile as he looks over at his kid, who’s playing in her pink playground a few yards from us.
“She’s the mother of my kid. I could never hate her,” he clarifies, and for some reason, I believe him.
Since I’m nosy and don’t care that curiosity killed the cat, I ask, “How often does she see Belle? You seem to have her all the time. Belle also never talks about her.”
“She doesn’t see her.”
I nod in understanding. “That’s even better.” I smile brightly when he turns to me. “Bad moms help build character in kids. At least she’ll be funny, look at me.”
I get a small smile now as he looks back over at Isabelle.
“Let me guess.” I desperately keep trying to lighten the mood. “She found someone with a bigger castle?”
Jackson lets out a scoff but a smile grows on his face. “Close.” He turns to me now. “Belle got sick as a baby, and when it became too much for her, she turned to another man and then left without warning.”
“Oh.” The word slips past my lips.
He nods once.
I glance off to the side before nodding slowly. “That sucks. Isabelle won’t gain a great sense of humor since she left without traumatizing her.”
He stares at me for a second before a laugh escapes him. “Are you always like this?”
I take a second to act like I’m thinking before turning to him. “Yup.” I shrug. “At least when I’m sober I am. Drunk me is a bit emotional and not funny at all. Then high me is just really happy and telling everyone in sight I love them; it’s gross.”
He laughs harder before shaking his head. “Well, in that case, come over the next time you’re intoxicated so I can see those two personalities and decide who I like more.”
I pause for a beat when I realize he’s being serious and knowing he doesn’t know I’m an addict is so damn refreshing. “If I’m lucky, you won’t ever meet those sides of me.”
He still smiles at me, but his brows slightly pull together at my somber tone. Before he can question me, his phone starts ringing. He glances down at it before looking up at me.
“I have to get to work. I’ll be in here if she needs anything. You two can work in the living room or on the patio. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen while you’re here.”
I nod in response before walking out to the backyard. “Let’s get this party started, kiddo.”
Isabelle slides down the slide one last time before running over to me. “I almost forgot to show you.” She tugs on her shirt to show me a sticker that says Great Writer!
I offer a high five and she jumps up to reach it. “You are just on a roll, huh? Do you even need me to tutor you?”
“Of course I do, silly. Stickers don’t make school easier.” She sounds a bit sad and I squeeze her chunky cheeks as we walk into the house.
“Good thing practice makes perfect.”
Her smile is back as she tells me about the short rhyming sentence she read in class, and when she shows it to me, I explain to her what she spelled wrong, and for practice, I read it back to her and she writes it again, this time, everything spelled right.
We work for the next two hours and Jackson walks past a few times, nearly every half hour. He doesn’t say anything, he just walks over, ruffles Isabelle’s hair or kisses her head, as if he’s making sure she’s still here.
I’m in the kitchen pouring Isabelle a cup of juice when he walks over again and sticks his head into the living room. I watch him walk over and gently touch Isabelle’s arm. She doesn’t even glance at him as she traces her vowels and he walks back out, his eyes locking on mine.
“Do you have separation anxiety or am I not trusted to be alone with your kid?”
A guilty smile tugging on his pretty face. “Sorry.” He watches me like I should be offended and he feels horrible for whatever’s in his head.
“What is it?” I let out a soft laugh, but his eyes dart to the ground.
“It’s nothing.” He musters up a smile as his eyes meet mine.
I feel my brows furrow as I watch him. “Well now I feel like you really don’t trust me with her, which isn’t the worst thing, you barely know me, but if it’s something else, just say it.” I cross my arms over my chest and as I study him, I begin to question if maybe he does know about my addiction.
His shoulders slouch before he forces a smile. “I have OCD, it’s an OCD thing and it’s dumb, ignore me.” He brushes me off and I nod in understanding.
“It’s not dumb. Don’t do that.” My arms fall to my side and his eyes dart back up to mine. “Trust me, I’m far more screwed than you and your OCD. I also had a roommate who had OCD, so to some extent, I get it. You don’t have to brush it off. I’m aware it’s more than just being a neat freak and it’s not dumb,” I reassure him.
His eyes scan my face carefully before he stands a bit straighter. “Thank you.” His words come out more like a question, but I nod in response as he continues. “I told myself I would only check on her every hour, but it’s clearly not going well.” He forces a smile before his eyes scan the kitchen.
“Is it because you don’t know me that well or…” My voice trails off as I try to understand.
He’s quick to shake his head no. “It’s not you,” he reassures me. “I’m stressed with work. I have this client that’s driving me up a wall. The stress makes the intrusive thoughts worse, and I worry about her a bit more.”
“So you like checking on her.” I nod in understanding, but falter when he shakes his head.
“It’s nothing.” He tries to brush me off again.
“Jackson, I’m in your house and watching your kid.” A smile grows on my face at how much he’s beating himself up about telling me whatever it is. I don’t know what a filter is when it comes to personal stuff, so him holding back is very foreign to me.
I try again more gently. “I don’t want you to feel awkward in your own home. If you need me to do something a certain way to put you at ease, let me know,” I suggest, remembering my roommate who needed me to do her compulsive rituals with her.
His shoulders sag before he explains. “I don’t need you to do anything. When I get an intrusive thought that she’s going to get hurt while I’m working, I need to tap her, and I feel bad coming in and bothering you both.” He quickly shakes his head. “I know she’s physically okay, but my brain convinces me she’s going to choke or drown in the pool the second I turn my back, so I just need to undo those thoughts by touching her.”
My eyes dart down to his hand as he taps on the island four times.
I grab the juice for Isabelle. “Don’t feel bad.”
His brows furrow.
“About constantly checking on her. You’re not interrupting us or bothering me so don’t feel bad and don’t apologize.” I nod firmly, knowing the guilt comes with the disorder.
Slipping past him, I meet Isabelle on the couch again. I rest the cup of juice next to her and she thanks me. When I notice she’s done tracing the vowels, I set a new paper in front of her.
“I don’t like this one.” She moves it aside and grabs a different sheet as she takes a sip of her drink.
“Thanks for letting me know.” I grab it again, knowing she’s only saying that because she struggles with these. “We’re still going to try,” I tell her and she looks surprised by my words, but I gesture to the paper.
“I’m saying the really honest truth.” She puts a hand up in defense as she tilts her head to the side. “I don’t really care about the main idea of this story. It looks boring.” She shrugs and I bite back a laugh.
“I appreciate your honesty.” I gesture to the paper. “I think you’re just saying that because you have a hard time focusing on the main idea and that’s okay. There’s a lot of details in the story, but practice makes perfect and once you get better, I think you’re going to really like figuring out the main idea.”
She lets out a sigh as she looks up to the ceiling.
I try my hardest not to laugh. “Come on.” I pinch her fat cheeks. “Try to figure out what the story is going to be about based on the pictures, then I’ll read it with you and we can figure out what they’re doing with this money.”
She caves and turns to the paper.
At the sound of footsteps, I turn just as Jackson walks in with a bouquet of flowers. I shake my head at him as I bite back a smile.
“Belle, we forgot to give Lissy her flowers.”
She puts a hand up as she focuses on her paper. “Daddy, you’re diracting me.”
“Di stract ing,” Jackson corrects her and she only nods as she examines the pictures.
I get up from my seat and walk over to him as he holds out the flowers, and I notice they’re crocheted.
“You said you don’t like things that don’t last.” He nods to the bouquet. “These will.”
My gaze meets his as a smile touches my lips. This is probably the nicest thing anyone has done for me, but there’s no way I’m going to say that and make this a sappy moment.
Instead, I take the flowers with a smile and say, “Is this the bribe or the thank you flowers?”
I look back up and a smile grows on his face. “The bribe. She doesn’t like her in-school tutor, so now I’m really desperate.”
“Don’t lose sleep over it.” I turn more serious. “I honestly like working with your daughter, you didn’t need to get me these.”
He shrugs. “Well, consider them a thank-you gift.”
I look down at them again, and a smile stretches on my face.
“I’m done with work, so I’m going to start cooking. You should stay for dinner. Consider it a part of my thank you gift,” he offers and I give him a knowing look as I tease him.
“Flowers and dinner?”
He shakes his head as he sees where this is going.
“I’m totally telling my brother you’re head over heels for me, JJ. I hope your daughter doesn’t have any more loose teeth.” I give him a stern look and he lets out a quiet laugh.
“Please don’t.” He rolls his eyes now. “He already told her about Santa and I’m still pissed about it. I need her to have the Tooth Fairy a little longer.”
My jaw slightly drops but he’s clearly serious. “He spoiled Santa for her?”
He nods before rolling his eyes again. “It was a while ago because I didn’t tell him Vidia was his new physical therapist. It was back when they weren’t on good terms.”
He reminds me of how Sire and V couldn’t stand each other when they were broken up, and with how they behave now, you would’ve never guessed they practically hated each other for four years.
“He’s such an asshole.”
I turn at the sound of a gasp and Isabelle has her eyes on me. She looks like she’s waiting for something, and when nothing happens, her brows furrow as she looks over at Jackson. “Daddy, tell her.”
I turn back to Jackson and he bites back a smile before he puts his dad face on, and I try my hardest not to laugh at whatever is happening.
“We don’t curse in this house, Lissy.”
I bite back a laugh. “I’m sorry.” I glance at Isabelle and she’s watching her dad for more.
“If it happens again, you can’t watch TV before bed.”
I nod in understanding. “I prefer doing other things before bed, but since I don’t want you to withhold that from me either, I’ll behave.”
His jaw slightly drops before he closes it and I bite my tongue when his cheeks slightly blush.
He turns more serious now, his voice low. “I don’t want the Tooth Fairy to be ruined for my kid. Don’t say things that’ll get us both in trouble, Lisette,” he warns before walking to the kitchen, leaving me stuck in place.
What is that even supposed to mean? Sire said he’ll retaliate if he flirts with me. Are my inappropriate jokes going to provoke that?
I bite back a smile as I settle onto the couch with Isabelle.
I thoroughly enjoy doing the opposite of what I’m told, especially if it’s going to get me in trouble or piss off my brother. While I’m sure my flirty jokes won’t be reciprocated, I’m interested in seeing how many buttons I can press before Jackson, and his follow-the-rules self entertain me.