Have to Have It by Melody Mayer Read Free Book Online Page A

Jorge's house. I hear some people make serious money that way. You could stay in L.A.—”
    “Not gonna happen,” Kiley interrupted. “You don't know my mother.” She smiled wanly. “Thanks for trying, though.”
    A few moments later, Esme rejoined them, and gave them the report on the assistant pro who had so captivated the twins. His name was Luis, he hailed from Costa Rica, and he was in America on a golf scholarship to Pepperdine University.
    Lydia turned to check Luis out. He was attempting to teach Easton and Weston how to hold their putters properly, which was incredible, since a few minutes before, they had been more interested in swinging them at each other's heads.
    “Marry him,” she decreed. “No, wait, marriage is the last step before divorce. Have a torrid fling.”
    Esme shot Lydia one of her “if looks could kill” specials, which made Kiley's throat ache. No one in La Crosse was remotely like these girls. It hurt to be with them now, even, but in the best possible way.
    As the golf pros were leading their junior charges out onto the putting green, Lydia watched Luis give some quick last-minute instructions to the twins. They appeared to hang on his every word as he dropped two golf balls to the manicured green, then pointed to a hole about ten feet away. He steadied Weston's hands on the putter, then helped her line up her shot.
    “Okay” Kiley saw him say. “Do it.”
    Whap.
    Weston struck the ball. It rolled thirty feet past the cup.
    “Tiger Woods she isn't,” Esme surmised.
    “Who's Tiger—” Lydia started to ask, but was interrupted by someone at the base of the bleachers calling Kiley's name.
    “Kiley! Yoo-hoo! Kiley!”
    Kiley peered down into the crowd at the base of the bleachers. A tall, bone-thin woman with short dark hair, expensive-looking khakis, and a fitted oxford was practically jumping up and down, waving her hands as she shouted Kiley's name.
    Lydia recognized her before Kiley did.
    “Run for your lives, girls,” she warned her friends. “Or call out the National Guard. It's the one and only Evelyn Bowers.”

It was indeed Evelyn Bowers, who was supposed to be Lydia's inaugural client in her nascent nanny-placement business— Lydia's big make-scads-of-money scheme.
    Lydia had, in fact, found Evelyn a nanny, but the nanny had turned out to be … strange. Still, from what Kiley knew, Evelyn Bowers was even stranger. Not only had she fired that nanny after less than a day on the job, she'd also gone off on Lydia, promising to bad-mouth her to every other mother in Los Angeles (a bit of an exaggeration since obviously she didn't know every mother in Los Angeles; but Evelyn was a publicist, and Kiley had quickly learned that the L.A. show business world was sort of like its own small town). This threat had pretty much killed Lydia's business before it had even gotten started.
    So Kiley's question was, why did Evelyn want to talk to her? They'd met exactly one time, here at the country club. Evelyn had been wowed that Esme was working for the Goldhagens,and that Kiley was a nanny too. Lydia had done everything she could to underscore the impression that it had been she who'd gotten the girls their jobs.
    “I suggest you go down there,” Lydia advised. “Otherwise, she'll come up here, and that puts my life in danger.”
    “Fine. I'll talk to her.” Kiley stood and edged her way to the bleacher stairs, then took them two at a time. As she did, Evelyn broke into a wide grin and pushed through the crowd to meet her.
    “Kiley, it's great to see you again!” the woman said, taking both of Kiley's hands in hers as if they were long-lost friends. “How are you? How's every little thing?”
    Kiley tugged her hands back. “Fine, Mrs. Bowers.”
    “Evelyn, please!” she insisted. “You're Platinum's nanny, right? Your friend-who-shall-go-nameless told me.” Evelyn shot a look of pure loathing up the bleachers toward Lydia, who Kiley saw was looking everywhere but down