thrived. Together, the three brothers had built a global tool empire while Willow appeared to be surprisingly well adjusted, all things considered.
Then again, I'd only met her the one time.
Thinking of Willow, I said, "So, about the last nanny, are you going to tell me what happened? Or are you planning to wait until we're actually pulling into the driveway?"
Just then, my cell phone chimed in my pocket. The ringtone was the one I'd assigned to Livia. I could only imagine why she was calling me now.
Last night, I'd left the club without saying goodbye. Then again, so had she. Of course, we'd driven there separately, so it's not like either one of us had ended up stranded or anything.
As far as Livia, she hadn't ended up lonely, that's for sure. After that impromptu make-out session near the Mercedes, she and Chopped Liver had gotten into that same car and driven off to wherever.
Her place?
His place?
Some hotel?
I didn't know, and I tried not to care. Livia wasn't one to play it safe, and besides, she didn't like me nagging her any more than I liked Mason nagging me.
From the driver's seat, Mason said, "If you want to get that, go ahead."
Nice try, Bucko. "I can't," I replied, "because you were just about to tell me what happened with the nanny."
At the reminder, Mason looked just as thrilled as I'd felt about his lecture on parking lot safety. And yet, to his credit, he actually lived up to his end of the bargain and told me what I wanted to know.
Chapter 12
Cami
As I listened, Mason explained that he'd caught the last nanny trying to sell pictures of Willow to the media. Apparently, the nanny's treachery was discovered not by Mason himself, but by his brother Chase, who learned of it from one of his media contacts.
Mason's story took only a minute to tell, but when he finished, I was so horrified I could hardly speak.
Bracing myself, I asked, "What kind of pictures?"
"Nothing obscene," he said. "Thank God. But it was bad enough." He went on to explain that the nanny had been offering candid shots of Willow around the house, along with images of Mason himself – shots she'd apparently taken with her cell phone.
"Oh, my God," I said. "That's awful."
"Awful and stupid," he said. "She signed a nondisclosure." With a hard look in my direction, he added, "And you'd be smart to remember that."
My jaw dropped. "So you think I'd do something like that?"
"Not if you're smart," he said. "You signed the agreement, too. Remember?"
Of course I remembered. Earlier, just before leaving my parent's place, he'd had me sign a document where I agreed to not blab about him or his family. Or at least that was the gist of it, even if the agreement hadn't been worded quite so casually.
Instead, it had been filled with all kinds of legal mumbo-jumbo, warning me of financial and legal retribution if I gave media interviews or shared any private information with the public – including pictures.
From the passenger's seat, I said, "Just so you know, I wouldn't violate your privacy regardless. Or Willow's."
"Good. Because if you do, you'll regret it."
"You don't need to warn me," I said. "I'm not that type of person."
"We'll see."
I bristled, "Yeah. You will – and not because I'm afraid of a lawsuit or of being kicked out at three in the morning. I won't do it because it's a cruddy thing to do."
In the driver's seat, he said nothing.
"And here's a question," I said. "You said you learned all of this in the middle of the night?"
"That's what I said."
"But why then?"
"Because that's when Chase found out."
"But why so late?"
Mason made a sound of disgust. "Because he was banging the reporter."
"Oh." Pillow talk. I was embarrassed, but not terribly surprised.
Chase was a notorious womanizer. I knew this from watching the show and from snippets I'd heard from Arden.
But Mason? He was something different entirely. Unlike Chase, he was very private. And yet, Mason had been linked with at least two women that I knew of. There was that dance instructor from Chicago and an East Coast fashion model who'd gone off the deep end when Mason had dumped her on New Year's Eve – or at least that was the internet rumor at the time.
In the driver's seat, Mason added, "And as long as we're laying it all on the line, my bedroom's off-limits."
I stiffened. "What?"
"So don't be knocking on my door."
I stared in horrified disbelief. "Your