Chapter 16

Lucas

I’m mired in video conferences until after ten, when I can finally venture down to the kitchen for the possibility of cold, leftover breakfast.

James sits at the island in the kitchen, staring ruthlessly down into a mug of coffee. Maggie is in there, too, fishing two juice boxes from the fridge. She glances over her shoulder and sees me first, freezing at the sight. She wears a puffy white skirt and charcoal tights with a lace sweater, girlish and sophisticated at the same time. Off-beat. Herself.

A light kindles in Maggie’s gray eyes, and the corner of her lip twitches up into an instinctive smile.

“Hey,” she greets me, sounding almost wistful and breathless. She had better relax with that eye contact and that voice, or everyone is going to figure out what we’re doing. Hell, the look on her face is so transparent, I don’t think it’d even slip past Madison.

“Hello,” I say, trying to sound as normal as possible. “Any leftover breakfast for the likes of me?”

“No, but I could whip you up some eggs really quick, toast, juice, sausage?” Maggie rattles off. “I was just about to take the kids on a little hike.”

“In the woods?”

“God, no,” Maggie says. “Just around the property. Plenty enough trees here. No need to drag them out into public or anything.”

James furrows his brow intently, almost glaring at Maggie. She doesn’t notice, still beaming expectantly up at me, holding her juice boxes.

“So? A quickie?” she invites, then blushes and laughs. “I mean, a quick, hot meal. Excuse me.”

“That’s all right, I don’t want to keep the kids waiting on you,” I say. My eyes keep moving over to James, examining him more closely. He looks like shit. Did he sleep at all last night? Was he drinking or what?

Fuck, that’s right, he came to my room and needed to talk. And I was too busy tongue-fucking the sleeping nanny to say a word. After it was over, I went right to bed. It was late.

“Are you sure? It would—”

“I can make my own breakfast,” I snap, not meaning to, but snapping nonetheless.

“Right on,” Maggie breathes, scurrying around me with her juice boxes. Charlie and Madison must already be outside, because Maggie strides through the foyer and snatches her jacket from its hook without saying a word. I can feel her insecurity, her uncertainty, and after last night, I can’t blame her. The sex wasn’t tender or intimate. It was raw. Desperate. Half crazy.

I open my mouth to tell her bye—maybe even call her Sofia—but the door slams too fast.

James’s glower turns on me. Maybe it’s not just her. Maybe he’s mad at both of us.

Holy fuck, does he know?

Were we too loud last night?

“Bro,” James says, somber. “We need to talk. Now.”

“Let me put on a pot of coffee,” I say, racking my brain. What you heard was the television, I could tell him. I was just innocently watching a little porn. It’s the holidays, I’m a divorcee. Give me a break.

I fill the Keurig with water. “It’s about the nanny,” he adds.

My back stiffens. Fuck. “Look, James.” I sigh and close the coffee pod in the Keurig. Press the little button. I hate this thing, but what I really hate is this conversation. I turn toward James, eyes dark and level, prepared to fight if I need to. If he does know about me and Maggie, I will make sure that the words don’t leave this room. “Look, it’s not as bad as it looks.”

“You knew about it?” James bellows.

I bulge my eyes at him threateningly, then pause. Knew about what? That I was having sex with her?

“How could I not know?” I ask.

“I thought you would never let something dangerous come under this roof, honestly.” James’s eyes are hard on me. “You should be worried about the kids.”

The words are like a harpoon in my chest. Fuck, he’s right.

Behind me, the Keurig gurgles and coffee comes streaming down into my mug. Neither of us glance away from each other.

“I know, all right?” I snap. “I couldn’t help it. It’s—it’s been a long time, and you’ve seen her. She’s perfect. And she’s not just gorgeous, man. She’s smart. But soft. Surprisingly soft.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” James clears his throat. “You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you?”

What? “Of course I am.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, it dawns on me that he had no idea the nature of our relationship was even sexual. Until just now. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Sofia Marshall.”

He knows about her little sex name?

“How did you…?”

“It was on the local news, remember? I tried to tell you—I mentioned it when I first met her. Sofia Marshall.”

Oh, fuck. I do remember him saying something, asking her if they were related, and Maggie said she’d never heard of the girl. But why would she want to be called Sofia otherwise?

With a crawling, heavy sensation in the pit of my stomach, I have to ask, “Who is Sofia Marshall?”

James spreads his arms, frustrated and surprised that I don’t already know this. “There’s a warrant out for her arrest,” he says, enunciating sharply. “She’s wanted for fraud. She wrecked her car not far from here.”

All the pieces fall together at once. Rachel never had anyone on the schedule after Fig. That was why she wanted to stay inside the house. That was what happened to her car, the car she has done nothing to reclaim. Why she requested cash payments over direct deposit. Why she couldn’t “remember” what I did for a living.

“But her background check was clean,” I breathe, unable to understand. “Her references. They were for Maggie Marshall. One of the references physically described her exactly. There can’t be two of them. Not like her.”

The kitchen twirls around me. This can’t be happening. There’s a woman sleeping in my house who lied her way through the front door. She’s with my kids right now. Wanted for fraud.

I sit down at the table and breathe through this. Minutes pass, and I can’t keep track of the time. James clears his throat. I’m taking too long to give him and answer here, but thoughts and questions run through my mind, blur my surrounds.

It’s fraud, not murder, but have I endangered my kids?

I get up walk to the sink, lean on it and remember the first time I fucked Maggie senseless. Right here, right on this table.

Fuck it, I’m the worst father in the god damn world. How did I not see this coming?

The front door blows open and Madison and Charlie rush inside, pink-cheeked and giddy from whatever they were just doing. They run upstairs, and Maggie—I mean, Sofia—hobbles after them, still only crossing the porch. She’s weighed down by what appears to be an old sled, which she drops gratefully. Huffing for breath, she strides across the threshold, closing the door behind her. Her cheeks are pink, like the kids’, and it makes her look fantastically innocent, as well as beautiful. Her curls are wild and airy when she steps in from the cold. She slides off her boots and is only in stocking feet again. Damn her cuteness.

“I hope this is OK,” she explains, heading straight for the kitchen. My jaw squares and I seethe. “They found this sled by the shed, and it’s supposed to snow tomorrow.” Her brow knits as she finally gets close enough to really see the look on my face. She looks to James and finds the same look there. She looks back to me. “What is it?” Her voice is barely a breath now.

“You know what it is,” I tell her, my voice deadly calm.