Page 7 of The Undercover Billionaire's Baby

“Every day, once the tourists descend. And that’ll be any day, with the weather getting warmer.” She pointed over her shoulder at a café down the street. “I run Soup and a Bread Bowl, right over there. If you do another mosaic table, come see me first.”

I promised I would, and she promised me a free bread bowl. I marched on up the street with a spring in my step. The town was still quiet this early in the season, but I could see the shops gearing up for the rush. An old man was repainting the sign for his deli. Two women were gardening, planting pink flowers. One of them waved and I glanced behind me, but the sidewalk was empty. She was waving at me.

“Hello,” I said. “Nice flowers you’ve got there.”

“Petunias.” The waving woman wiped her forehead. “They’re my favorite, but they don’t last the winter. So we end up replanting the beds every year.”

“Worth it,” I said, unused to small talk. “It, uh… it brightens up the whole street.”

“That’s what we think, as well. Are you here for the summer?”

“At least for the summer, maybe into fall.”

“Well, you’ll love it in August when the asters come out.”

I realized I was about to be late for Lana, and excused myself hastily and hurried on. When was the last time I’d stopped to chat on the street? With a stranger, no less. Two different strangers. That didn’t happen in Boston, but here it seemed normal. Like passing in silence might be the weird move. I’d have to budget in time for that going forward. Fifteen minutes for small talk along every walk.

I almost walked straight by Lana’s place, caught in my musings — though, to be fair, it was easy to miss. It was above a bookshop, like the ad said, but the storefront was covered in flowering vines. Roses nodded in the flowerbeds, white, pink, and yellow. They covered the number nailed up by the door, and part of the window display full of books. The air smelled sweet, floral, and I drew a deep breath.

“She’s upstairs,” called someone, from inside the shop. A messy blond head poked out of a side window. “Take the stairs around back, and you can’t miss it.”

I circled around behind the bookshop — more flowerbeds, more roses, a tiny herb patch. The fresh scent of rosemary tickled my nose. A bee buzzed my head and I stood still till it passed. Then I headed upstairs and knocked, not too hard.

A firm knock means business, said Dad, in my head. Or don’t knock at all. Barge in. Be powerful.

But this wasn’t business, and barging was rude. And the last thing I wanted to do was scare Lana. I needed to remember, I was Brad, not Sam. A carpenter between jobs. Taking a break.

“Coming,” she called. “Hold on just one second!” Then the door flew open, and?—

“You must be Brad?”

My first impression of Lana’s apartment was… light. Light from behind her, spilling in from outside, turning her reddish hair to a cascade of fire. Her eyes were light brown, warm as honey, a scatter of freckles across her snub nose. She had what I thought of as strawberry lips, full and bright pink without any makeup. A natural beauty.

“Uh… Brad?”

I was staring.

“Sorry,” I said. “It’s just really bright.”

She glanced behind her. “Yeah, it’s that window. You want to come in? Oh— I’m Lana. Did I say on the phone?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you did. Shoes on or off?”

“Either is fine.”

She still had hers on, so I left mine on too. I followed her down the bright hall, trying not to stare. She had my idea of the perfect figure — not too slim, curvy. Tall with long legs. I looked away to distract myself, at the ranks of framed photos lining the walls.

“You must’ve lived here a while,” I said.

She spun around. “What?”

“A lifetime of memories.” I gestured at the pictures. “Oh. Did I say something? Am I making you nervous?”

Lana’s pretty face had fallen. She shook her head. I noticed she seemed winded, breathing hard. “I left my assistant in charge of the shop. We’re busy and she’s new, so I guess I’m distracted.”

“Oh. Would you rather I came back later?”

Lana’s phone chirped. She looked and half-smiled, then put it away. “No, it’s okay. I’ll show you the room.” She hurried down the hallway, nearly skipping in her haste. “It’s actually the biggest room. Bigger than mine. It’s not enormous, but as you see, it’s furnished. Bed, dresser, bookcase, and here’s the closet.”

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