Caroline laughs. “Maybe she just likes men. You little flirt,” she tells Evelyn.
That gets her another frown.
Caroline puts both hands up. “Okay girl, I got it. I’m leaving you alone.” Caroline looks at me. “I’m gonna go clean up in the kitchen. How about you do the living room? I think Evelyn would prefer you stay out here with her.”
I grin down at the little girl. “I can do that.”
We spent about fifteen minutes cleaning up Grayson’s apartment. Not only are there a ton of dishes to gather and rinse and put in the dishwasher, making a full load that we then start, but there’s just general straightening to do.
Not to mention the garbage.
In the end, we have an overflowing trash can in the kitchen and another half trash bag filled with sandwich wrappers, takeout bags from a taco place, and probably forty-seven to-go coffee cups.
“He doesn’t even make his own coffee?” Caroline asks, dropping the final cardboard cup into the bag I’m holding. “Do you think he doesn’t know how or he doesn’t have time?”
“Did you know Grayson at all when he lived here in Honeysuckle Harbor?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “No. He’s what? Five years older than us? I know the Rosses have lived here forever. Really nice people, right?”
I nod. “Very nice. And I’ve never heard that Grayson’s not. But he’s some big-shot business prodigy who quickly moved up the ranks, became CEO, and then started his own company. I don’t know what exactly he does, but he’s very successful. It would not surprise me at all, despite how this apartment looks and the fact that he clearly has no idea what to do with a baby girl, that Grayson Ross doesn’t do anything for himself when it’s possible to order or pay someone else to do it.”
“Was he ever married?” Caroline asks, bending to pick up three socks—one man’s and two baby socks that do not match.
“No. If you’re asking about the origin of Evelyn, it was a one-night stand that showed up at my office a few weeks ago with a baby girl who she handed to my assistant and then walked out the door.”
We both spin at the sound of Grayson’s voice.
Dammit. You never gossip about a person in their apartment when they’re home. Of course, he was going to walk out and catch us.
“Grayson, I—” I start.
But Caroline doesn’t act guilty to be caught. “She just showed up and handed you the baby?”
Grayson tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He’s studying Caroline with an unreadable expression. “No. It was her sister. And she handed her to my assistant. I didn’t even see her.”
“That’s very unfortunate.” Then Caroline tips her head, clearly curious. “Did you remember her?”
So I’m standing here, embarrassed that he caught us talking about him behind his back, and Caroline is not only clearly unapologetic but is also pressing on this sensitive private matter.
I also tuck my hands into my pockets and settle in to watch. This is fun.
“I remembered the short red skirt she was wearing when we met. Once she mentioned it,” Grayson says.
I’m surprised he’s answering. He could tell Caroline it’s none of her business. Because it’s really not. But I think that might actually be a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Caroline nods. “Oh, a short red skirt. That’ll get you every time. This entire thing is so not your fault.”
“Do you have a short red skirt, Caroline?” Grayson asks.
My gaze goes quickly from Caroline to him.
Is he flirting with her? Seriously? In the midst of…all of this? In front of me?
You’re married to the man who lives in the apartment next door to this one, remember?
Right. There is no reason Grayson would think flirting with Caroline in front of me was strange.
Actually, there is no reason Grayson flirting with Caroline in front of me is strange.
