The woman blinked. “Seriously? This is Brock Sanderson’s house?”
She looked around, as if trying to see the man in his furnishings. Stace looked around with her, but it was the way the other lady’s face lit up that she paid the most attention to.
“I didn’t realize he was the one I’d talked to on the phone.” The woman’s gaze suddenly snapped to Lily. She kept her smile, but something in the depths of the other’s blue eyes changed. It’s not that she became less friendly all of a sudden, but there was definitely a note of underlying tension creeping in under her words as she asked, “And who are you?”
“Oh, his neighbor,” Stace made herself reply, pretending she was still cheerful. She did have to clamp her lips and lock her jaw to keep from adding,And his little girl. I call him Daddy now. He said I could.
Like that was anything she wanted spread around a small town like this, and especially not by a woman who seemed to want more of a relationship with Brock than she currently had.
“How long have you known him?” Stace was driven to ask.
“Oh gosh,” the woman said airily. “Since we were kids in school. We both grew up around here. I’m kind of surprised you’re in his house while he’s not here.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Adrianne, by the way.”
Yeah, so read the name was on the resume she’d already handed over.
Not wanting to pry, Stace hadn’t looked beyond that the first time she’d glanced at the single page, but she was looking at it now. She was feeling it too. The notes of familiarity when it came to how Adrianne talked about Brock. The way she’d was just a little too toothy to truly be friendly. Worse was that glint in her eyes that said as soon as she was out of here, the claws of rivalry would come out. Not where Stace could see them, but she gave herself mere days before she started to feel them digging into her back.
This wasn’t her business, Stace forced herself to decide. And for sure, it wasn’t a game she had any desire to play. Not with Adrianne or anyone else.
Tucking the resume into the notebook, she closed the bright green cover and set it down on the end table. “Well, thanks for coming,” she said, doing her best to sound professional. “I’ll make sure Brock gets this information just as soon as he gets home.”
“Mmhm,” the woman said, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. She crinkled her nose, her tone saccharine as she added, “I think I’ll just wait here until he gets back. I know how hectic life can be. Can’t hurt to make sure he actually gets my information. You could get busy, you know.”
“I’ll make us some tea.” Stung, Stace jumped off the couch and went into the kitchen. Standing at the sink, she took deep breaths until her hands stopped shaking. She bit her bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to walk right back out there and tell her to leave. She had no business doing that; this wasn’t her house. But it wasn’t Adrianne’s either, and she didn’t at all like being accused of ‘losing’ Adrianne’s interview before she could think of it herself.
This was stupid to let herself get her feelings hurt by some jealous local woman she didn’t even know. Stace didn’t even want to know her now. In fact, if she could leave through the back, she would have done it already. The only reason she hadn’t, was because she’d promised to watch Pops until Brock got back. Plus, Pops had Lily, and she didn’t want to embarrass herself further by sneaking back to his room, grabbing the baby and bolting.
Trapped, needing some way to occupy herself so she didn’t end up standing there, feeling ridiculous until Brock came home—his home, not hers, goodness no; just his—she did the only thing she could think of. She made Pops his caramel apple pie,with a crunchy, sweet, strudel topping, just the way Pops said he liked it.
It was still baking when Brock came home. She heard the motorized rumble of a Land Rover coming from behind the house, but by the time she’d finished cleaning up the last of the dirty dishes enough to steal a peek outside, she couldn’t see the vehicle. She did, however, glimpse the top of Brock’s brown hair waltz past the window on his way to the front door.
The temptation to run out into the living room in time to meet him the second he opened the door was strong. Just not as strong as her need not to have to socialize with Adrianne again.
The kitchen was tidy and clean, but Stace threw herself into scrubbing down the counters and stove top all over again, suddenly terrified that letting Adrianne in at all might have been the wrong thing to do. What if Brock got mad at her? Oh, God, what if Pops was mad at her too. Was that why he’d retreated to his room immediately upon coming home. He was still back there too.
She’d screwed up, she was certain of it.
She winced when she heard the creak of door hinges followed by Brock’s voice offering up a slightly perplexed, “Hello, Addy. What are you doing here?”
“I was applying for the companion position I read about in the paper. I had no idea you lived here. What happened to the house on the hill?”
“Hell, I haven’t lived there in three years,” Brock replied.
“You should have told me you moved,” Stace heard Adrianne tease. “I could have thrown you one heck of a welcome home party.”
“Pops and I managed just fine without one.” Brock raised his voice, the heavy clump of his boots coming closer as he called out, “Hey, Stace?”
Flustered, Stace grabbed for her rag and found a stubbornly sticky place to scrub, right up until she realized it was actually a chip in the stovetop and she was making it worse.
Brock came into the kitchen. “You okay?” he softly asked, dropping his tone, probably so Adrianne wouldn’t hear him.
She nodded, not at all sure Adrianne was still on the couch instead of lurking around the corner somewhere, eavesdropping on them.
“Look at me.”
Her tummy tightened. Stopping mid-scrub, she sighed and then obedient looked him in the eye.
“I didn’t know she was coming, or I would have been here. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable.”
