Page 29 of Sweet Distraction

“Tell me everything,” Lily says as I hold the phone up.

“About?”

“Um, about your hush-hush new boss—wait. What are those on the wall behind you? Records? Like shiny ones on the wall.”

“No. Don’t be ridiculous.” I shut the door and rush down the hall toward the kitchen. Awesome. Perfect. Breaching the NDA on the first day of the job wasn’t on my bingo card today.

“You’re such a fucking liar. Your new boss is a singer, isn’t he?”

“Lily,” I warn as I prop the phone on the kitchen island and take a seat at one of the barstools facing it. “I can’t—”

“Hold on,” she says and the phone goes dark as she does something I can’t see. “55687 Fairgate Road.”

“What?” I screech.

“We shared our locations on Find My iPhone for safety. Remember that? And now you went to live with some strange man you’d never met before. You bet your ass I just checked the address so I know where you are in case you go missing or something.”

“You listen to too many true crime podcasts.”

“Don’t hate your girl for being prepared,” she teases. “But if I were to look up the address of that house and—holy shit.” Lily’s eyes grow wide, and her jaw drops open.

“Christ,” I mutter under my breath.

“Willow Adams, please tell me that you are not at the house the sleuths on Reddit are telling me that address belongs to.”

“I’m not. Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kill me now.

“Ha. You so are, hence why all the stupid secrecy and—why are you there? He doesn’t have a kid, so who are you—”

“Lily, I signed an NDA. I can’t talk about anything.”

“Okay. Fine. I wouldn’t want you to get bent out of shape or anything.” She grins and winks at her double entendre. I do the only thing I can—I shake my head and sigh.

“I still can’t say anything.”

“You didn’t. You haven’t. You took a new job as a nanny for an orphaned little girl and her newly found father. At an address I double-checked to make sure an axe murderer hadn’t accosted you only to find it’s owned by an incredibly famous rock star . . . and here we are.” Her grin is contagious.

I glance around the open space before looking back to her. “You have to promise not to—”

“You know my word is good. All I did was FaceTime you. I didn’t even mention any name so we could be talking about anyone.” She rolls her eyes.

“I know. You’re right. I just . . .”

My guilt rides high. I do not want to be responsible for how the media finds out that Rocket Caldwell has a daughter. I know I can trust Lily with my life. She’s not exactly the social butterfly, nor would she have any reason to blab, and yet, the non-disclosure agreement I signed said no one is to know.

Call me a rule follower.

“Relax.” She sighs. “You are such a rule follower, it’s ridiculous,” she says having no clue that she’s just voiced my thoughts. “But oh my God. You know what this means, right? Your face is going to be splashed over every damn tabloid.”

“No, it’s not.” I shake my head to reject the thought and the fear it evokes. “Rocket has security in his neighborhood. A guard shack and privacy clauses. My pay is through an LLC, so there is nothing connecting me to him.”

She snorts. “Except the fact that you’re living in his house. You’ve clearly never seen how rabid superfans are.”

“Let’s hope not,” I murmur but wonder how long Poppy and I will remain under the public radar.

She then claps her hands together. “Now, tell me everything.”

I hesitate for a second and then welcome the chance to talk to someone about this very odd situation I’m in.