Page 18 of Who's Your Daddy
I blink. “Wait…” I glance at the building, then back at her. “You live here?”
“Oh yes. Third floor. Terry couldn’t get rid of me.” With a little bounce, she adds. “Not that he wanted too.” She brushes past me, heading for the back. “Do come by soon. We’ll free your hair from that braid and loosen you up. Get the words and pheromones flowing.”
Confusion swirls inside me. Every word from this woman is utter nonsense. “Pheromones?”
“Sex dear, you could use some.” She chuckles, the sound loud and hearty, and scurries away.
I frown again, my stomach sinking. How could she possibly know that?
“Oh,” she spins back to face me, a hand splayed over her chest. “Be careful when you lift the lid.”
“What?”
The word has barely slipped from my lips when she disappears around the building.
I huff in a breath of the not-so-fresh Jersey air, desperate for relief and a little rejuvenation. Instead, all I muster is a mix of annoyance and defeat. Shoulders slumping, I take in my surroundings again. Awful building, putrid smell, weird neighbors. What was Terry thinking when he insisted the guys work here? And how the hell am I going to manage showing up every day even if it’s only for ninety days? The cleaning crew better perform a miracle. Just getting rid of the smell will be a feat.
“Ready to go, Ms. Caruso?”
I glance up to find Joe, the firm’s driver, has stepped out of the car. With a nod, I start for the black sedan. Halfway there, my phone buzzes, pulling me up short.
I slip it from my bag and check the screen, assuming it’s a contact from the cleaning company or maybe Brian.
Instead, I find Sloane’s name flashing on the display.
I’d been avoiding her calls for the last few days. I can only imagine what she’ll have to say about Murphy, the apartment, and the new office, and I haven’t been ready for it. Her head probably exploded when she found out.
It was probably similar to what’ll happen to Sully’s when she informs him that she’s accepted a position working for the man who spent two years trying to steal her from him. God, when he finds out, he’s going to lose it.
I hate knowing things. Being the one with everyone’s secrets is getting old.
Nose scrunched, I fight the urge to hit decline. Instead, I force myself to slide my finger over the screen and answer the call.
“Hey, Sloane.”
“Finally,” she huffs. “I know you’ve been busy with the guardian thing, but jeez, you could have answered a call.”
I could have. I just didn’t.
“Yeah.” I nod at Joe who holds the back door of the town car open for me, and slip inside.
“Did you get him settled?” Sloane asks.
I look up at the grimy building, ignoring thoughts of what the next three hundred and sixty-five days will look like for me if they somehow convince me to stay past the ninety days I’ve agreed to.
Three hundred and sixty-five. Counting by days makes it seem so much more daunting. I cannot think past ninety days at this point.
I sigh. “I think Cal has it covered.”
“Cal?”
A huff of a laugh escapes me. “The boy is his son, so it’s up to him to figure it out. And since they’re living with Sully and Brian now, I think they will rally.” I hope they will rally.
“Cal has ason?” she sputters. “And what do you mean they’re living with Sully and Brian?” Her voice hits an octave that makes me pull the phone away.
A pit forms in my stomach. “Have you talked to Sully?”
It’s been three days. How the hell has he not spoken with his wife yet?
