Page 14 of The Undercover Billionaire's Baby

“And that sign out front too. Every day, it’s more crooked.”

That night, I lay sleepless at my B&B. Coming down from my day, I had to wonder, was life in the real world really this easy? I’d been lucky so far, with Haverford, with Lana. But maybe that had been beginner’s luck? I’d read somewhere once, most people lived three bad months from losing their homes. Technically, I could lose mine in only two. If I somehow went two months and didn’t make money, or if I lost money — if I broke a bone. Would Dad call it cheating if I used my insurance? Or would I, as Brad, have to pay out of pocket?

I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and checked it once more, expecting some fresh snarky missive from Dad. But just one text popped up, two words and a picture: NICE CATCH, and then me holding my fish. I was grinning ear to ear, red-faced from the sun, happier than I’d seen myself since… I couldn’t remember. And tomorrow, first thing, I’d move into Lana’s. I smiled at the thought of her, her sweet voice, her laugh. The way she ran on when she got nervous. Maybe tomorrow, I’d take her to lunch, not as a date, but to celebrate being roommates. And to get to know her better. That would be fun.

I set my phone down again and closed my eyes, feeling better. I was off to a good start. Now, to keep it going.

CHAPTER 6

LANA

Iwoke up as usual at seven on the dot and went through the motions of starting my day. I had nowhere to go, but I couldn’t do nothing, so I ate breakfast. I showered. I got myself dressed. Then I stood in the hallway staring at the back door. I could go downstairs, I guessed, and start on some cleaning. Move the fallen bookshelf. Pile the books in the back. Sweep up the drywall, and then what?

Then what?

My phone shrilled behind me, making me jump. I hurried to get it.

“Alice? Hello?”

“We’re downstairs,” she said.

I frowned, confused. “We?”

“Me and Gareth? The carpenter? He works for my aunt?” When I said nothing, she laughed. “Didn’t you get my texts? I said we were coming.”

“Sorry,” I said. “Must’ve missed those.” I’d fallen into bed early last night, too heartsick to bother with dinner. Now, I felt myself brightening. I had something to do. “I’ll be right down. Give me two minutes.”

I ran a brush through my hair and slapped on some lip balm, then, ready to face the day, I bounded downstairs. I unlocked the front door for Alice and Gareth, and Gareth spied the wall and let out a whistle.

“It was that dog,” said Alice.

“It wasn’t the dog.”

Gareth went over and set down his toolbox. He took out a flashlight and a crowbar. I turned away, not wanting to watch. From what I’d seen already, the damage was bad. Maybe the kind of bad I couldn’t come back from. If that was the case, I didn’t know what I’d do. Where would I live, even, if the building was toast? I stood to lose everything, my business. My home.

“Hey. You’ve got company.” Alice tapped my shoulder. I turned, and sure enough, Brad was at the front door. He was peering in, waving, and I waved back.

“I’ll be quick,” I told Alice. “Give me five minutes.”

She gave me a little push and I headed outside. Brad greeted me, smiling.

“Am I too early?”

“No, not at all. Where’s the rest of your stuff?” I looked around for his boxes, but couldn’t see any, nothing in his truck but a beat-up old toolbox.

“This is it,” he said, and hoisted his suitcase. “I just brought the basics. Thought I’d pack light.”

“Do you have sheets and stuff, to go on your bed?”

“No, I thought, uh… I don’t know what I thought.” Brad looked embarrassed. “Is there somewhere I could get some?”

“I have extras you can borrow. I’ll show you where.” I led the way back upstairs and through to the kitchen. Brad looked around while I dug out Mom’s keys, slipping her keychain off before I handed them over. “This one’s for the apartment, and that’s for downstairs. But don’t go down there. We’re mid-renovation.”

Brad took the keys and dropped them in his pocket. He set down his suitcase and covered a yawn. “Sorry. Couldn’t sleep last night.”

“I’ll get you some coffee.” For some reason, I was nervous. I couldn’t stand still. Brad stared, bemused, as I darted past him, scurrying out the door and back downstairs. Gareth had a drill now. No, a screwdriver. He pulled down his safety shield and set it to whirring. That’s when it hit me: the noise. The noise. What if Brad freaked out? Demanded his rent back?

My hands shook as I measured out two scoops of coffee. Could Brad sue me, even? For fraud, for bad faith? Was I supposed to have warned him, like, legally? It had never occurred to me. Stupid. Stupid.

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