I gasp and freeze and the words I’m the other woman race through my mind.
I freeze and panic at the same time, muscles tense but unable to move. I try to turn back to the elevator when I hear movement in the kitchen followed by a small voice that says, “Hello?”
I’m still frozen when a little girl with long, sandy-colored hair appears. She’s wearing black leggings under a pink polka-dot dress and a jean jacket, and she has a trail of bracelets up her arm.
I stare at her like she’s a unicorn or an Oompa-Loompa, unable to register her presence here.
“Um . . . hello,” I say after a long, confused moment.
Am I in the right place?
The little girl walks back into the kitchen, then sits at the counter focused on an open iPad.
I look behind me. I look back at her.
She’s still there.
“I’m sorry, but are—”
“I’m Scarlett,” she says without looking up.
This is Scarlett?
“Like the color. Only with two T’s.”
I feel my fingers tighten around the strap of my purse. “Like the color?”
“Yep. It’s my favorite,” she says. “It’s the color of passion and energy and confidence.”
I have to smile. She’s a whole little person. “Ah, that’s a pretty impressive name, Scarlett.”
Her eyes jump up to mine. “My mom named me that.”
And the shoe drops. He doesn’t have a girlfriend. He has a wife.
But, no. Coach Turnrose specifically said Gray isn’t married.
“I’m Eloise.” There’s a pause as I gently sit down on the stool next to her. “So, you’re Scarlett,” I say with a playful lilt.
She glances up at me, smiling, and I note the familiarity of her bright blue eyes. “You’ve heard of me?”
“I have,” I say.
“Huh. Dad usually keeps me a secret.” She returns to her iPad.
I’ll say.
“How old are you?” I ask.
“Almost eleven,” she says.
“And Gray is—?”
“Duh. My dad.”
Gray is twenty-nine, which means—she must see me doing the math because I catch her watching me out of the corner of my eye.
“They had me when they were still in high school.” She widens her eyes and shoots me a knowing look. “I was a mistake.”