The House Mate (Roommates #3)

“There’s the little angel,” she cooed, striding past me and making a beeline toward Dylan.

The baby’s eyes widened and she scrambled from her seat, retreating deeper into the fort.

“Sorry,” I said. “Almost nap time. She’s a little fussy.”

“Quite all right.” Tiffany sank onto her knees and started slapping her lap like she was inviting a puppy to play fetch. “Come here, Dylan. Come say hello.”

Dylan didn’t move, and I cleared my throat.

“So,” Tiffany said as she twisted to look at me. “You guys are getting along all right?”

“Very well, thank you.” I tried hard not to grit my teeth, but this bitch was getting on my nerves now. What was I, some high-school babysitter who needed checking up on? I was a professional. Why the hell would he have this woman march in here and interrupt our routine like this without telling me she was coming?

Exactly right.

Whatever Max’s reasons, it wasn’t his assistant’s fault.

I blew out a sigh, irrationally feeling hurt. Then I knelt onto the floor beside her and motioned for Dylan to come toward me. When she did, I gestured to Tiffany.

“Dylan, will you say hello to Tiffany?” I asked.

The baby waved a chubby fist and Tiffany caught it eagerly, shaking it like they’d just made a business deal on Shark Tank.

“So nice to see you again, little miss,” Tiffany cooed.

“Oh, you’ve met before?” My eyebrows inched higher. Max had said Dylan had only been here a few days before I’d been hired. But then, that would have been over the weekend, so . . . “Did Max bring her into the office?”

Jealousy? This was new.

“Oh yes, but we met before that too. Dylan and I go way back.” She winked at the baby. “I can never get over how cute she is. Such beautiful eyes, just like her father.” Her tone suggested she’d seen a lot more than Max’s eyes, and I struggled to remain impassive.

“She certainly does,” I said, and Dylan scooted off my lap and crawled back into the sanctuary of her fort.

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to live with him,” Tiffany went on, apparently not sensing what I thought was my very obvious discomfort with the subject.

“Oh, so far it’s been easy. Maybe he’s just got his best foot forward. Should I be worried? Does he leave the seat up or is it something worse?” I said with a forced grin.

“No, no, no. He’s just an exacting kind of man, you know? A lot of successful businessmen like him are. Plus the military training. His housekeeper must have almost nothing to do.”

I remained silent, not wanting to divulge the utter chaos I’d walked into the day before, slightly mollified that Miss Tiffany didn’t know as much as she thought she did. “Yes, he mentioned the Army.”

“Yup, he was a Ranger. Quite the accomplishment.” She said this as though she had given him the title herself.

“Oh, how interesting. You’d never know it,” I said.

“Unless you look at his tattoos. But you probably haven’t seen the one on his back,” Tiffany said with a wink, and I feigned a smile in return.

“Right. Well, I do appreciate you stopping by and checking on us. We’re going to get ready for naptime, but you can let him know that we’re all just fine here. I hope he doesn’t have to work too long.”

Tiffany sighed. “A workaholic. Another fault, I’m afraid. But yes, I’ll tell him you’re good. You’re sure you don’t need anything at all?”

I glanced at Dylan and tilted my mouth to the side. In truth, I’d been hoping to talk to him about the nursery over dinner, but if he wasn’t coming home . . .

“Well, we had talked about me sprucing up the baby’s room a little. Can you have him call me about that?”

Tiffany cut in with a tight laugh. “Oh, you should definitely go. Do you need a credit card?” She rifled inside her big red bag and pulled out a gold credit card.

“Uh, thanks,” I said, taking the card.

“And I agree with you that room could use some work. Make sure you sneak in a couple of dollies and maybe a tiara for the little princess too,” she whispered with a wink.

I thanked her and showed her to the door. Then, when I heard her car door shut, I joined Dylan in her fort and kissed her forehead.

Max could have sent me a message. He could have left it in his note before he’d left for work.

But no, he’d sent that woman here to check on me. A sliver of annoyance curled itself around my growing self-doubt, and I scooped up the baby and carried her upstairs.

“Come on, Dylan. After your nap, we’re going to the hit the town for some retail therapy.”





Chapter Nine


Max

When I pulled up to the house, Addison’s sporty red Maxima was gone and there were no lights shining through the windows.