Page 10 of A Convenient Secret
“What’s going on, Lils? He called again.”
“It’s not like I can get there any faster,”I huff.Shit.
“You?”
“I mean I can’t get her there any faster.”Wow, Lily, you’ve become quite a proficient liar.
“What’s going on, Lily?” Aaron’s voice carries a hint of worry, and an equal amount of warning.
Too late for that.
“I got to go. I have it under control. Trust me.” I hang up.
Panting, I get into the cool—freezing—lobby of a swanky condominium.
“I’m here for Mr. Quinn.” I shiver as my body protests at the sudden dip in temperature.
“Who am I to announce?” The uniformed concierge smiles at me.
“Nanny.”
The concierge puts the receiver down. “He’s been expecting you. Come.”
“Thank you…” I glimpse his name tag. “Karl.”
“You’re welcome. Good luck today. You might need it.” He hands me a handkerchief.
I take the white linen from him, puzzled.
“It must be hot outside.” He gives me a warm smile.
“Oh, yes, and I’ve been running to get here… very late.” I wipe my face and my neck. “I’ll wash it and get it back. Thank you.”
“Keep it, no worries.”
The door opens, and he steps in and taps his card on the panel before pressing “P”.
I enter the car, and as the door closes, I try to take some courage from Karl’s kind face.
What am I even going to say? I know nothing about childcare. Not in a responsible adult way, anyway.
But I may be able to find someone, and he may not even notice. And if he does, I’d just confess. Or come up with another lie.
My head is spinning by the time the elevator opens. I step out into a small foyer; it’s all beige, and still completely different than our offices. Luxurious, soft, and welcoming.
Across from me is an arch that opens up into a living room, with a spectacular view of Central Park that stretches past the window wall on the other side.
I take a few steps. The living room is huge and pristine. Several large sofas create a focal point in the middle. There are pillars that break the open space, with twelve large chairs in a dining area on one side and a grand piano on the other side.
The entire room is lined with windows on all sides. It’s like a large, elegant greenhouse. It’s beautiful.
“Hello,” I call, and jump back when a person moves to my left. Jesus. I didn’t even notice someone was in the room.
My skittishness causes me to hit my elbow into thearch’s door frame. Third time is a charm. The pain reverberates up my arm.
The person crosses the room. It’s Declan’s mother. I saw her twice—the second time was just this Saturday at Saar’s.
She is tall and slender, dressed in a camel pantsuit with her hair styled in a perfect blowout.
