Page 12 of She's the Star

She rolls her eyes. “It isn’t like he won’t know everything about Amber’s private life if he takes this job. And you’ve made it clear that this room is a vault.”

They’re talking like I’m not even here, and it’s making me feel strangely removed from the conversation, almost as if I’m watching a sitcom.

“Stop.” I hold up my hand. “I’m not becoming Maddy’s nanny.”

“We prefer the term family assistant,” Brian tells me.

Mina blinks rapidly. “Why not?”

It’s a valid question. As they succinctly reminded me, I don’t have a job. And my bills won’t pay themselves. I might have a cushion for now, but it won’t last forever.

“Because I’m not interested.”

Or maybe, to be more accurate, I don’t want to be interested. I like taking care of children, and Maddy was adorable, but being offered a job as a nanny feels like a handout. It’s also the kind of job my father would be able to secure for me in a flash.

“What could we do to pique your interest?” Brian asks. “More money?”

Before I can answer, Mina adds, “We’ve got a lot of flexibility. We can offer more money than you were making at that school. You need extra time off and a generous vacation package? We can figure that out. You require avocado toast for breakfast? I can have it delivered to your room no matter where we are. Whatever you need, I can provide it.”

“Mina,” Brian interrupts. “Perhaps, instead of offering avocado toast, we should let him tell us what we can do to change his mind.”

“I can’t go on tour for six months. I have a house and a…uh…life.” I gesture at my living room and then point at my backyard, as if that’s enough to establish that I’m a very busy man. Fortunately, they don’t know I have nothing on my schedule other than sitting in the sun until I burn.

Mina raises one sculpted eyebrow—like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“I appreciate the offer. It was my pleasure to assist Ms. Hope on Saturday, but I can’t become a nanny,” I say firmly.

“Family assistant,” Mina corrects.

She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something else, but Brian beats her to it. “We’ll send over a contract and give you a couple days to think about it. In the meantime, if there’s anything we can do to convince you, please give me a call. You still have my number?”

I nod. I probably should have deleted the numbers Amber called, but I didn’t even think about it.

“Excellent.” Brian smiles. “Thank you for your time, and I hope to speak with you soon.”

I shake his hand. Mina gives me another probing look and then follows Brian out. Feeling unsettled, I shut the door and stand there, staring at it. The fact that the next six months are completely free and that my routine and life are already in a major state of upheaval is irrelevant. I’m not taking a job offered out of pity.

Twenty minutes later, as I’m getting out of the shower, my phone rings. I ignore it while I dry off, but it rings again as I’m tugging on a shirt. This time, I pick it up, and wince when I see who’s calling. My father. I don’t want to answer, but avoidance doesn’t work with him.

“Dad,” I say with a sigh.

“Nolan Michael Byrne, why didn’t you call me?” he shouts. He doesn’t wait for my answer, just keeps talking like he didn’t ask a question. I wish I could say this was unusual, but it isn’t. “Those blowhards on the board would have crumbled like a graham cracker in the hand of a toddler if you’d let me talk to them.”

Wow. That’s oddly specific. “Who told you?”

“I just got off the phone with your mother.”

“Just now? Or earlier today?” I need to be certain he didn’t somehow send Brian and Mina to my doorstep. I’m not sure I’d survive the humiliation of him begging a favor of Amber Hope.

“We hung up thirty seconds ago,” he practically shouts.

I sigh with relief as I sink onto the edge of my bed.

My mother had called me as I was climbing out of my car after getting back home from being fired and helping Amber. Like a dumbass, I answered. Before I knew it, the whole sordid tale had slipped out. She was properly indignant, and when I told her not to tell anyone, I should have known she’d call him anyway. The only real surprise is that she waited more than five minutes.

She might be happily married to another man, but she still adores my father, and, according to her, there isn’t a problem he can’t solve. She really leans into his fame—embracing the fact that being an award-winning action star makes him significantly more powerful than the average person.

“I had things under control.” I’m thirty-one years old. I don’t need my father fighting my battles.

---