Lifestyles of the Witch & Famous: Tahiti in Texas (Part 1 of a 4 Part Serial)



  LIFESTYLES

  OF THE

  WITCH & FAMOUS

  Part 1:

  Tahiti in Texas

  MIMI RISER

  www.mimiriser.com

  Lifestyles of the Witch & Famous is now released as a serial, which means it has been divided into separate parts that are offered individually. This is the first of four parts.

  Serial Copyright © 2015 by Mimi Riser

  All rights reserved.

  [Disclaimer: This novel is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.]

  Chapter 1

  “Thank you, Ms. Leigh, but I can handle things from here. The sooner the boys learn to accept my authority, the faster they’ll adjust to their new environment. Young children need structure and discipline in their lives to feel secure.”

  Meaning?

  The implication there, of course, was that “structure and discipline” were the last things someone like Molly Leigh could offer.

  Standing by the boarding stairs of a luxury private jet, Molly felt winter’s chill on a sunny summer day. Gladys Patton’s glare slid over her like a glacier. It was obvious Ms. Patton didn’t approve of thirty-year-old women who wore silver pentacles, red peasant skirts, and halter-tops made from tie-dyed scarves.

  Molly drew herself up to her full five-foot-five height and glared back. She didn’t approve of narrow-minded Gestapo-styled governesses who smelled like disinfectant and acted like they had a corncob stuck up their butt.

  “Considering these kids just lost the last parent they had, and are being ripped out of the only home they’ve ever known, they need my presence right now to ‘feel secure,’ don’t you think? I’m the one who’s been raising them.”

  And the implication there was that the uncle who suddenly wanted that responsibility had never bothered before to send so much as a birthday card, hadn’t even attended his only brother’s funeral the previous month. As far as Molly could tell, hotshot Uncle Tyler hadn’t even known or cared, until a week ago, that he had any nephews. She was damned if she’d give the boys—her boys—to him now. Not without a fight.

  “I’m going with you.” She shouldered her purple duffle bag and started to board the jet.

  Ms. Patton sidestepped, blocking her way up the stairs. Tyler’s henchwoman moved fast for an old biddy, didn’t she? Not fast enough to ride herd on the “James Gang” though, Molly bet. There were three active youngsters waiting in the jet’s cabin—not to mention the dog, cat, and Myna bird. The entire group sounded way too quiet. A dangerous sign, like the soft ticking of a time bomb. Any minute now there’d be an explosion.

  “Mr. James understands and appreciates what you’ve done for his family, Ms. Leigh. As you’ve already been informed, you’ll be amply compensated for your trouble.” Ms. Patton punctuated the reminder with a saccharine smile.

  Molly resisted the urge to smack it off her face. This mess wasn’t Ms. Patton’s fault. The silly woman was only following orders. Mr. Billionaire Wheeler-Dealer Tyler James’s orders. A man like him probably thought money solved everything. Hell, with his wealth, it probably did. But not this time. No amount of money could buy love. Especially not hers.

  For six years she’d cared for these boys and their crippled father—ever since the car crash that killed one best friend and paralyzed the other. Ten-year-old Steven Jr. hardly remembered his mother. The twins, Jeremy and Josh, never knew her at all. They’d been born by an emergency caesarian seconds after Kara James was pronounced dead. Molly was the only mother they knew. How could anyone put a price tag on that? What kind of sorry excuse for a man would even try?

  She’d find out. Since Tycoon Tyler wouldn’t answer her calls, was too “VIP” apparently to deal with the peasantry except through his overpaid flunkies, she’d have to confront the corporate lion in his private den. David going up against Goliath hadn’t faced such a powerful adversary. But Molly was pretty good with a slingshot herself, and she had one big stone in her arsenal. She tested it in a practice shot at the gray-haired governess.

  “Your employer hates publicity, doesn’t he?”

  Ms. Patton’s fake smile soured into a genuine frown. Mary Poppins, she wasn’t.

  “Mr. James values his privacy, if that’s what you mean.”

  That was one way of putting it, Molly supposed. She’d been researching the enemy this past week. A quick search on the computer had pulled up some great action shots of him dodging reporters and slugging paparazzi. As a matter of fact, it looked like being decked by the elusive Tyler James was worth more than a photo of him was. He seemed quite happy to pay damages after trashing a camera and breaking its owner’s nose. Always settled out of court, of course.

  She answered Ms. Patton’s frown with a Cheshire Cat grin. “Then I suggest you let me on this plane. Otherwise, I’ll find my own way to Mr. James’s retreat, pitch a pup tent outside his gate, and camp there until he agrees to meet with me. And”—she paused for emphasis—“I will notify every TV station and newspaper in the country as to what I am doing. And why. I think the media would love a story like that, don’t you?”

  Ms. Patton paled. “That’s blackmail.”

  Molly’s grin broadened. “Yep, sure is.”

  Worked like a charm, too.

  While the older woman stood sputtering, Molly angled past her and darted up the stairs, her gauzy red skirt billowing about her legs in the airport’s breeze.

  The expected explosion hit before she was halfway to the top. Shouts, bangs, barking, and the teeth-grating screech of nails on a blackboard—that last from the Myna bird, who seemed able to mimic any sound known to man or beast. And generally did it at full volume.

  She glanced over her shoulder at General…er, Ms. Patton hurrying up behind her. “I think you’ll be glad I’m here by the time we land.”

  “I seriously doubt that, Ms. Leigh, and I’ll thank you not to interfere with my duties during this flight. In thirty years of professional service I have yet to meet a child I cannot control on my own.”

  The Myna whistled like a teakettle and shrieked “Screw you!” just as the governess boarded the jet on Molly’s heels.