Eleven

Jeannie hadn’t seen Robert since he’d walked her to her door three nights ago, kissed the back of her hand like an old-fashioned prince and then been driven off by an absolutely beaming Reginald.

She knew he was talking to Maja or Rona or both. Like when Maja said, “Dr. Wyatt wants you to make sure you’re getting fresh air, so let me show you how to use this stroller.”

Or when Rona said, “Dr. Wyatt asked me to make sure you’re enjoying the meals? I can cook other things, as well,” as if anyone would turn down real Filipino cooking, which Rona prepared every other day when she came to tidy the already spotless house and do the laundry. Even the next-day leftovers were fabulous. If Jeannie had been on her own, she would’ve been living on frozen pizza and beer.

But Robert didn’t ask her how she enjoyed the meals or the walks or the time with Melissa. He didn’t talk to her at all and her texts thanking him for a nice time went unanswered. Which was unnerving. Jeannie knew he was busy—with his practice or Wyatt Medical or making plans for his mother. She refused to think that he was avoiding her because she’d tied him up or kissed him or listened to his secrets. He wasn’t a chatty man to begin with. She could see that he simply wouldn’t know how to strike up a conversation after what they’d shared.

But after another day of silence passed, she began to wonder if he was trying to keep her from going to the kickoff. And she had no intention of letting him do that.

So instead of small talk, she went to war over text. And it turned out, he was downright chatty.

Jeannie smiled at that one, pausing to rub Melissa’s back. They were snuggled up on the couch and the house was silent. Maja wasn’t here. Rona would be back tomorrow. It was just Jeannie and a drowsy infant.

A week ago this situation would’ve inspired sheer panic, but now? Jeannie let the baby’s warmth sink into her chest as Melissa dozed. She still had no idea how she would handle raising a child when Robert stopped paying a small army of people to help her but she was at least no longer panicking at the thought of holding her niece. As long as Melissa got the right formula and stayed swaddled while she slept, things were better.

She chuckled softly to herself. She could hear his exasperated tone, see him glowering at his phone. He could get anyone to do anything he wanted with a snap of his fingers and money—anyone but her.

Yes, she’d talked to Miranda at Trenton’s. Robert had handed over a credit card and rumor had it that Julian had run that sucker for thirty thousand dollars and Robert hadn’t disputed the charge.

Robert hadn’t been back since. Which was fine by Miranda. She didn’t care how hot and rich Robert was, she wasn’t dealing with him ever again, she’d said. Miranda had related the whole thing in breathless, disbelieving tones but Jeannie believed it all. Thirty thousand was nothing to Robert.

“He’s freaking terrifying,” Miranda had said.

Jeannie had just laughed. As far as she could tell, no one at work had any idea that Robert had appointed himself her guardian angel—or that they’d shared a wonderful, messy evening together.

Robert didn’t answer that salvo right away but Jeannie let the space build between them. Melissa grunted in her sleep, warm and perfect and okay. She was seventeen days old today. It’d been ten days since Nicole had died, nine days since Jeannie had brought this baby home and eight days since Robert had turned out to be the star she’d wished upon. Today was the first day Maja wasn’t living in the house full-time.

The next time Jeannie was at Robert’s house—assuming he invited her back—she wasn’t leaving until she’d seen the night horizon over the lake.

She could almost see Nicole walking into the small living room, trying her best not to roll her eyes or let fly with a cutting comment about how this was exactly what Jeannie always did—rushing into something way over her head without thinking.

“You’re trouble,” Nicole had always said. “And like follows like.”

When Jeannie had been a little girl, Nicole had hissed it at Jeannie with pure venom, usually seconds before she got Jeannie in trouble. Maybe there’d been a time when Nicole had set Jeannie up—shoving a ruined sweater under Jeannie’s bed and then blaming it on Jeannie.

All Jeannie could really remember was deciding that if she was going to get into trouble, she was going to earn it.

After their mom had died and it was just Nicole, still only seventeen, and Jeannie, barely ten, Nicole had kept on saying it. But the hatred had changed, deepened. Now Jeannie could look back and see the pure fear Nicole must have been living with, an unwelcome guest who refused to leave. The same fear Jeannie had been stuck in when she’d wished upon a star.

Jeannie had kept right on getting into trouble. Parties, boys, alcohol—driving her sister to the breaking point. They’d both been relieved when Jeannie had packed a bag and left.

Then, when the two of them had finally reconciled, after Nicole had decided she was having a family come hell or high water, Nicole had still said that. Jeannie was still trouble. But now Nicole had said it with almost fondness, and instead of hearing it as an attack, Jeannie heard what Nicole was really saying.

I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re here. I love you.

That was how Jeannie chose to remember Nicole. Someone who was complicated, who did the best she could with what she had—a missing dad, a dead mom, a hellion for a sister.

I’m sorry, Jeannie thought. Hopefully, wherever Nicole was, she would know the truth. I’m glad you were here. I’m doing the best I can. I love you.

Jeannie’s phone chimed again.

Oh, wasn’t that just like the man? If he were in front of her, she’d be hard-pressed to pick between strangling and hugging him. Hell, maybe she’d just tie him to the bed again and work through some of the frustration he inspired.

He was a very inspiring man.

It’d been three days since their lunch date. Three days since the unreachable, untouchable Dr. Robert Wyatt had let himself be touched. Since he’d held out his hands for her and she’d ridden him in silence. Since he’d shared his darkest secret.

He’d done so much for her and Melissa and all Jeannie had ever done for him was serve him the perfect Manhattan. She might not be able to provide material comfort for the man but by God, she could help him face his demons.

Specifically, one demon.

Like followed like, after all. But this time she promised herself it would be good trouble. The plan was simple. Back up Robert. Help his mom. Hell, protect the good people of Illinois from a damn monster.

Really, it was going to be one hell of a party.

She shifted Melissa so she could text faster.

Melissa stirred, pushing against her blanket. The little noises she made—Maja had said those were hungry noises. Jeannie glanced at the clock—right on schedule. Who knew babies had schedules? But this baby did, thanks to a stand-in grandmother and by God, Jeannie wasn’t going to screw that up. Which meant she couldn’t lie around texting much longer.

The typing bubble showed for a long time but Jeannie knew she’d won. She absolutely could blend. She’d been serving the upper crust drinks for years now. She knew the mannerisms, the topics the one percent discussed. She could be just as obnoxious and ostentatious as Robert’s wallpapered ceilings or as cold and aloof as Robert himself. She could absolutely fake it until she made it, whatever form it took.

It couldn’t be a small lie because those were obvious and easy to disprove. To pull one over on someone like Landon Wyatt, it’d have to be a grand lie, so bold and ostentatious that no one would dare question her or her place on Robert’s arm. She’d have to not just belong there—she’d also have to own the room.

She glanced at the book on her coffee table. To Dare a Duke. Hmm.

Of course, it all depended on what she’d be wearing. Heaven only knew what Robert would be sending this time.

Finally, the typing bubble disappeared but instead of a long paragraph of text, all that popped up were two little words that made her grin wildly.

He didn’t reply, but then, he didn’t need to. He’d said thank you. For Robert, that was the equivalent of a regular dude standing outside her bedroom window with a boom box blaring ’80s love songs.

Melissa fussed more insistently and Jeannie struggled to her feet. She had to feed the baby and check her diaper and then?

Then she had to get ready for Saturday night.

She had a date with the hottest bachelor in Chicago and she had a feeling that, before it was all over, she was going to see stars.