Page 23 of The Undercover Billionaire's Baby

Lana seemed to relax at that, but guilt pricked my heart. I’d been telling myself I wasn’t lying, exactly, just picking and choosing which truths to reveal. But I didn’t know much about Dad’s old store. I’d never seen it or been there, or worked there weekends. By the time I was old enough, that store’d been a whole lifestyle brand — resorts, TV stations, even fashion lines — all built on the back of Dad’s hardware empire. What I’d told Lana was related to the truth in about the same way as a cat to a lion.

“I’d hate to put you out,” she said. “You’re here to relax and I’ve got you—” She broke off abruptly at a knock at the door. “Sorry. One second.”

I tried not to eavesdrop, at least at first. I was up to my neck in Lana’s business. I didn’t need to intrude on her personal life. So I swept up my sawdust and set the board back in place, put my tools in their box, and was Lana’s voice rising?

I stood and saw Gareth out on the steps, the local builder who’d been helping downstairs. I could see from his posture he came bearing bad news, head down, shoulders slumped. Not meeting Lana’s eyes.

“How bad is it?” she said.

“That’s the thing, I don’t know yet. I’ll need to get Francis back, and an electrician.”

“And it can’t wait? At least till fall?” Lana’s voice shook, threatening to break. Gareth studied his feet, hands deep in his pockets.

“It wouldn’t be safe,” he said. “You’ve got exposed wires and a room full of paper. One spark?—”

“Oh, God…”

“I’ll get someone in as fast as I can. Monday at the latest, but I’ll try for this week.”

Lana made a choked sound. Swung her head side to side. “How are you only finding this now? Didn’t you say before it was just the one wall?”

“I thought it was.” Gareth scratched at his chin. “But I saw today you had a loose socket cover, and when I went to fix it, the drywall just crumbled. And that’s when I saw you had more leaks, and that led to the wiring. I’m so sorry.”

“And how much will all this cost?”

I straightened up, cleared my throat to make sure Gareth saw me. Our eyes met and he reddened and looked away.

“I can’t tell you,” he said. “I’d need to get in there to see how far the rot goes. And your electrical problems, I can’t speak to that. But Francis’ll do you a deal on the plumbing. You’ll get the family rate, so?—”

“So, hundreds? Thousands?” Lana’s voice had gone brittle, thin with despair.

“Probably thousands, but?—”

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” Lana was trembling. I wanted to go to her and pull her close. Put my arms around her and tell her, don’t worry. Tell her I’d pay for it, and it would be fine.

“Listen, I’ll do your repainting for free. I do signs as well, so I’ll throw that in too. I noticed your sign out front, it’s kind of peeling.”

“And how long… How long will all of this take?”

Gareth swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple jumped. “Again, I’m not sure, but I’d say a few weeks? Two weeks at the quickest, or maybe three?”

The sound Lana made wasn’t quite a sob. It was more of a sigh, ragged and deep, uprooted from somewhere deep in her guts. She pressed her hands to her face, inhaled, exhaled. Then she dropped her hands and shook her head briskly.

“All right,” she said. “Call whoever you need to. I’ve got to, uh…” She glanced past Gareth, then back at me, but her gaze passed straight through me, glassy with panic. “I have to go. I have to go shopping.” She snatched her purse off its hook by the door, slipped her feet into two different shoes. Then she was bounding pell-mell down the stairs. Gareth started after her, but I barreled past him.

“I’ll go,” I said.

“Is she okay?”

I didn’t know the answer to that, but my best guess was no. She wasn’t, at all. I raced to catch up to her, but Lana was sprinting, her purse swinging wildly as she dashed down the street. Mrs. Schneiderman stuck her head out as she tore round the corner.

“Where’s she off to in such a hurry?”

“The beach,” I called, waving. No time to chat. I chased Lana off the main street, across wide tree-lined lanes, and from there down the wooded trail to the beach.

“Lana! Hey, wait!”

She ran under the trees, not slowing or stopping, the dappled light chasing through her streaming hair. She half-tripped on a fat root and lost a shoe, and snatched it up and ran on even faster.

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