Page 29 of The Undercover Billionaire's Baby

I took a pack, too, and one of macaroni. Dora peered in my cart.

“Looks like Lana’s list.”

I looked down at my cart, embarrassed for no reason. “Yeah, some of it. We’ve been sharing a lot of meals, so I figured…”

Dora was nodding, her eyes gone all twinkly. “Cathy saw you two the other night, out on a date.”

I half-choked. “A date?”

“Dancing at Belden’s. Wasn’t that you?”

“Well, yes, but…” I didn’t know what to say. I could guess how that had looked, me dancing with Lana. It had felt that way, too. Cozy. Romantic. Enchanted, even, when she’d looked up and smiled. It would’ve been the most natural thing to lean down and kiss her, but that would be stupid, right? A bad idea. “We were too tired to cook.” I said. “And Belden’s is close.”

“But not too tired for dancing.” Dora’s lips quirked up. “It’s been a long time since she’s had any fun. I’d say you’re good for her, someone steady, her own age.”

“Well, I, uh?—”

“Oh, look at me, marrying you off already!” She patted my arm. “Don’t worry about me. I’m just an old lady. But you have to admit, you’d make a beautiful couple.”

“Thank you,” I said. What else could I say?

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you get on with your shopping. But tell Lana hello for me. We’re thinking of her.” Dora bustled off, pushing her cart. I hurried to get through the rest of my list. The checkout lady winked at me, and I wondered, had she heard? Had the whole town heard I took Lana dancing? Were they “shipping” us now? Was that what was happening?

I shook my head, trudging back to our place. People would think what they wanted to think. No need for things to get awkward with Lana. We’d ignore the gossip, and in time, it would fade. I put our groceries away and took out the garbage, then came back up and surveyed the apartment. I’d spotted a few small repairs needing done, and now, looking closer, I found a few more. A hook for a hanging plant loose on the ceiling. Plaster crumbling away around a light fixture. A table full of trinkets with one shaky leg. I decided to start there, to avert disaster. One bump to that table leg, and the whole thing could topple.

I fetched my tools from my room and set to clearing the table, moving a little music box. A pink china dog. An old-looking postcard in a brass frame. I wondered how many of these things were Lana’s, and how many had once belonged to her mother.

I was sanding the table leg, ready to reglue it, when I felt my phone buzz in my back pocket.

“Hey, Dad,” I said, accepting the call.

“Sam,” he said. It came out harsh. Stiff. Or maybe it just felt strange hearing my real name.

I cleared my throat. “So, what’s going on?”

“I’m calling to ask you that. Anything to report?” Not how are you or I’ve missed you. Just anything to report?

I told him about Lana. About Rex’s deck. How people here knew me now, to wave on the street. When I was done, Dad didn’t respond. I could hear him sucking his teeth.

“Dad?”

“I thought I was clear,” he said with a sigh. “When I said ‘make it in the real world,’ I meant go forth and prosper. Build something. Be someone. Not?—”

“Dad.”

“Not gad about with women and, what? Fix decks? Manual labor. Where is this heading?”

I ground my teeth, biting back my instinctive response.

“Well? Is that your big plan? Some kind of handyman for the island elite?”

I nearly laughed at the notion of Rex as “island elite,” not at the thought of him being someone who mattered, but at the thought of him being someone who cared. Someone who’d ever need that sort of label.

“I’m not a handyman,” I said, when I’d recovered my temper. “And I’m not gadding about. I mentioned Lana because her business is failing. Because I’m here, in a position to help. My plan is to do for her what we’ve done for dozens of brands: restructure. Rebrand. Get her into profit. I’m starting like you did, with a business in debt, and building it into something successful. It’s a chance to do your challenge and to give back.”

“Charity,” said Dad. “Not the angle I expected. But we’ll get some good press from this if you don’t louse it up.”

I ground my teeth again. I wouldn’t snap.

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