“Hey, you two,” I said, kissing the tops of their heads.
“Thank you so much for watching the girls while I shop,” Lucy said. She set a bag down on the counter, giving the room a once-over before raising an eyebrow at me. “You know, having to announce myself at the gates of this place makes me feel like I’m visiting Buckingham Palace. Should I have worn a fascinator?”
I snorted. “You in a fancy, stuffy hat, a la Audrey Hepburn inMy Fair Lady? NowthatI’d pay to see.”
She grinned. “How’s mansion life treating you, Your Highness?”
I shrugged, trying to sound casual. “It’s convenient. Close to Muses.”
“Mmm.” She dragged the word out like she didn’t believe a word I was saying. “So, do you ever go into the main house? Or is that off-limits?”
I avoided her eyes, suddenly very interested in rearranging the pastries she brought. “Someone’s staying there. I haven’t been inside.”
Lucy didn’t say anything for a beat. Then she leaned against the counter, arms folded, her expression amused. “Wait. Is this one of those situations? Like... a mysterious stranger in the big house? You catch glimpses of him swimming shirtless in the pool while dramatic cello music plays in the background?”
“What? No.” My voice cracked, which didn’t help my case. “That’s ridiculous.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh my gosh.There is someone.You’re blushing right now.”
“I’m not.”
“You so are.” She pointed at me like she’d won a game. “Anna, what are you not telling me?”
I sighed. There was no keeping anything from Lucy. “Fine. I met the guy staying in the main house. He’s charming and handsome, but he’s also a ladies’ man. And spoiled.”
“What’s spoiled?” six-year-old Amelia asked, tugging on my sleeve.
“It means he gets everything he wants,” I replied.
Therese, four years old, bounced on her toes. “I want to be spoiled.”
Lucy grinned. “So, is this mystery man good-looking?”
I snorted. “He might betoogood-looking. Like ‘People Magazine’s Sexiest Man,’ good-looking.”
Lucy gave me a playful shove. “What’s the problem?”
“The problem is that I don’t have time to get involved with anyone. I’m making progress on my writing, and that’s what matters.”
Lucy wagged a finger at me. “Don’t ignore romantic possibilities. This could be like a rom-com. You, the hardworking writer, and him, the—what is he again? A secret prince?”
“Luce, this is real life, not the Hallmark Channel. Don’t you have shopping to do?”
“Fine.” She grabbed her purse. “Girls, be good for Auntie Anna. I’ll be back in an hour.”
After she left, the girls kept me busy with books and games for about half an hour, until the doorbell rang again. Expecting Lucy, I swung the door open. “Wow, that was the shortest—oh, it’s you.”
Luke stood there, looking sheepish and entirely out of place. My heart skipped a beat. “The shortest what?” he asked, tilting his head.
I swallowed hard. “I thought you were my cousin.”
He nodded. “I brought your purple hoodie.”
I waved a hand dismissively. “You didn’t have to do that. It’s way too big for me, anyway. I just kept it at Muses in case I got cold, but I never wear it. Pretty sure it’s stained from when a customer spilled a rum and Coke on me.”
“Well, if that’s the case, maybe I’ll keep it. It’s surprisingly comfortable.”
The way he said it, so casual and self-assured, made it hard not to smile. This was the Luke Fisher who made romantic gestures look easy on film, the same Luke who could turn wearing a lavender hoodie into an effortlessly cool moment. And, annoyingly, he knew it.
