Page 144 of A Convenient Secret
“I was totally into your voice. At Cal and Celeste’s party, I realized you were the voice, and I couldn’t believe it. I can’t believe you noticed me there. You were so disinterested in everything.”
“I was very interested in you.”
She smiles at me, and I relish the moment of normal we’ve achieved. Maybe we can do this.
The twins join us. Zoya is sweaty with messed-up hair, Zach with his hands in his pockets and an unimpressed expression.
“Why do we have him?” Zoya tugs at my sleeve, gesturing at the large man in a suit.
I exhale slowly, keeping my voice steady. “To keep us safe.”
Zach scoffs. “From what?”
I sigh, rubbing a hand down my face. “From people who don’t know how to mind their own business.”
“What does mind youw own business mean? I don’t have any business.” Zoya shrugs.
Lily stands up and takes her hand. “Imagine your friend is whispering to someone, and you keep asking, ‘What are you talking about?’ If they say, ‘Mind your own business,’ it means they don’t want to share, and that’s okay—because it’s not something you need to know.”
Zoya puts her other hand into mine, and we head toward our building with Zach striding beside us.
Zoya swings my hand back and forth. “Those guys with the camewas… they don’t mind theiw business.”
I nod. “Exactly.”
“But why awe they taking pictuwes of us?”
I hate that she even has to ask, the temporary peace of our outing evaporating rapidly.
Lily takes this one, her voice light but firm. “Because some people love gossip more than minding their own business.”
Zoya considers that, then shrugs. “Gwanny said gossiping is bad.”
“Granny is right, sweetheart, but not everyone understands that.” I grab Zach’s hand to cross the street.
As we reach our block, my stomach knots.
They’re already waiting. I should have called the car again. I got lulled by the surface peace.
A small crowd of paparazzi loiters near the entrance of my building, cameras slung around their necks, their hushed murmurs turning to alert whispers the second they see us.
The building added security, and the two concierge clerks keep the group out of the immediate vicinity of the building’s property. It’s not enough.
My jaw tightens. Zach slides his hand into mine. “Stay close,” I murmur to Lily, who has picked Zoya up.
With my hand firmly on my wife’s back, we advance. Our bodyguard steps forward, moving ahead of us to clear the path.
The second we get within range, the shouting starts.
“Mr. Quinn! Declan! Is it true you secretly married your nanny?”
“Lily, how long have you been hiding here?”
“Are you leaving the country? Is the marriage real?”
The sidewalk turns into a chaotic mess as we weave our way through the blinding flashes and overlapping voices.
“Daddy?” Zoya’s voice is small.
