It’s echo-loud in the giant, marble-floored penthouse living room. No one but a large bouncer-type security guard has noticed that I’ve entered. The guard glances at my lanyard and nods once, as though he’s been notified I’m coming.

Acting like I’m totally cool with this, I nod back and take one tentative step forward into a room larger than any I’ve ever seen—not counting the hotel lobby below and whole shopping malls, that is. It’s a perfect open floor plan, like the kind I’ve seen watching ‘Real Housewives’ or those mansion tours of the stars they sometimes have on TV. Only this room is massive and brighter because it’s not a home, it’s the top floor of the fanciest hotel I’ve ever seen, made over to look like it’s a home.

There’s a full wall of two-story windows with a view of the amusement parks in the distance, as well as this huge open kitchen that’s gleaming with so much granite and stainless steel it almost makes me need sunglasses. There’s a glass dining table big enough to seat twenty, and a cool bar area off to one side with some tall tables scattered around, all in an area that’s big enough to be its own restaurant.

On the other side of the room, facing the view, there’s a sectional couch made up of easily fifteen square shaped sections side by side that fronts a monster floating television. And I mean a TV that’s the size of a camper floating somehow near the glass windows. It’s blaring some news show loudly, as if someone’s turned it up to drown out the baby, who I can hear crying down one of the four long marble hallways that go off in each direction.

I make out two or three people huddled under blankets on the massive couch. From what I can see, it might be the suit wearing people that were around yesterday. They’re unmoving, possibly sleeping. I decide it will be too awkward to wake anyone I don’t know, so I head in the direction of the crying baby, because I’ve met her before, and because she’s why I’m here. I also hope Mrs. Felix or Gregory will be with the baby, too.

I make my way down a long wide hallway, pausing at the one door that’s open and has light streaming out of it. Peering in, I note loads of unopened boxes holding things like diapers, new strollers, and brand new baby-bouncy seats. Any bit of floor space that’s not holding a box or baby gear is littered with giant shopping bags. Bags that are also full of new baby stuff. It looks like someone threw them in here and ran away. There’s so many, I first think I’ve made a mistake and that I’ve stumbled into a storage room or something. But then I hear her—the baby—squeak and utter her now familiar small determined cry, as well as some people talking.

Pulling off my flip flops and leaving them at the door, I step in and peer around a large box that’s on its side, marked changing table, fully assembled. Two tall guys, one with jet-black hair I instantly recognize as Royce’s, and his band mate, Adam, the one with the chestnut-brown hair from yesterday, are both huddled over a crib that’s in the corner farthest from the door. I pause at the edge of the boxes and try to analyze what’s going on in here.

Royce earns a few points because he’s in the middle of sing-whispering, “There, there, little baby, little pretty one. Please. Please. Please, little noisy one. Go back to sleep so we can, too.”

Adam appears to be helping Royce by trying to pat the baby’s back or something. When the baby still won’t settle, Royce groans out, “Christ. This is so hard. Poor little baby. Where’s a sucky-binky thing? Why does she keep staring at me?”

“Pacifier, Paci, or binky,” Adam corrects. “But in Canada it’s called a soother.”

“Is there going to be a test? How do you know these whack facts? Just help me look for it, dammit.” Royce has dropped to the floor to look under the crib. “I know Gregory bought fifty of them after what happened yesterday, and I will rip this room apart looking if I have to. Why is the sound of her crying so excruciating?”

“There’s one.” Adam reaches down into the back side of the crib and retrieves it with his pinky as Royce hops back up to take it.

He holds it high, glaring at it. “Do we have to boil it and shit like we did those bottles, or do you think it’s clean enough?”

“Let’s go with the idea that it’s still clean. The books say babies need to build up immune systems and a little dirt is okay. I’m sure it’s fine. Not like the baby can tell on us.” Adam takes it back then leans down, most probably to put the pacifier in her mouth, and suddenly the baby quiets. “There. Did you see that?” He smiles down at the crib. “Look at my mad parenting skills. I was just freaking awesome.”

“This baby…” Royce breathes out a long breath, then leans his weight on the side of the crib to stare down at his daughter. “She terrifies me. How can she not terrify you? She’s so small.”

“You’ll get used to her.”

“Will I? You know how I worry. Is it dangerous for babies to cry so loudly? And she does it every two hours. Is that normal? I feel like we’ve done everything she’d ever want, yet every time she wakes up and cries again I feel like a failure.”

“Dude. I’m right there with you. The crying is legit. Totally normal, that’s how they talk. Besides, if she’s supposed to be your kid, she’s bound to be temperamental, sulky, and always a bit too loud. Am I right?” Adam chuckles when Royce has no answer. Adam reaches into the crib again. “Man, at least admit that the fluffy ginger hair on her head is so cute. Love it.” He swaps into a baby-talk voice. “Sweet baby has such cute fluffy hair and such big, big voice, just like her baby-daddy Royce.”

“Adam. The crap you say to push my buttons. You aren’t funny. I’m about to deck you for all of this.”

Adam shrugs. “Sorry. If we can’t find some humor in this week and next—I feel like we’re all going to go insane. You being pegged as an insta-dad by your grandmother is the funny side of this mayhem.”

Royce whispers, “There is no funny side here, at least not from my point of view. As for us all going crazy? I don’t know about you, but I’m there, feeling as crazy as hell right now. Your antics have sent our whole lives over the edge.”

“This is not antics. It’s all necessary and important. And…watch your language in front of our little girl.” The laughter slips out of Adam’s voice. “None of this could be helped, right? We will weather this shit-storm just fine, won’t we?” He croons to the baby. “And your mommy is going to come back. She must be flipping out to have to leave her like this…huh?”

“God. I can’t imagine what that woman is feeling right now. It can’t be easy.” Royce sighs.

Adam’s sighs, too. “Makes me so depressed, dude.”

“Me, too. Don’t worry, we will solve this. We will.” Royce suddenly sounds apologetic. “But in the meantime, could you ramp in and help me spin-doctor the press a little better? And my grandmother. Yesterday that woman got out of control. Who knew becoming a great-grandmother would set off so many hormones. If she cries one more time, it’s going to kill me.”

Adam chuckles. “She keeps calling the baby her long lost, darling, great-granddaughter. Poor, sweet lady. I never knew this would affect her like this, either. Will she be okay at the end of this?”

“Dude. None of us will be okay after this. There’s a baby in our lives now. Shit. I know you’re helping all that you can…but we have to get this child’s mother back here as soon as possible. Is there any news?”

“None. But I’m on that today. Like you, I haven’t slept a wink since she arrived. I’m not going to abandon you on your newfound dad duties, either. I swear. I know you weren’t down for the little-nanny-girl idea, but I’m thinking it’s a good thing she’s coming.”

“It’s not.” His voice sounds cynical. “That little-nanny-girl, is seriously too young and too innocent to be caught in our band’s shit storm. You know I’m right. What if we ruin her life in addition to this baby’s life? You should have heard the lecture my grandmother gave me about being an honorable father—how I needed to go from a boy to a man now. Then Gregory started in about all my new father responsibilities. And Vere—she’s making me insane with her lollipops and rainbows speeches. If I hear her say, Royce, you’re someone’s daddy now, one more time, I might break that life-long, never-hit-a-girl rule.”

“I’m trying to make up for all of that.” Adam points around the room. “Who’s the one that went out and got this baby stuff—me! And who’s the one reading the next boring-as-hell baby book—me. I’m at your beck and call for questions and assistance should you get freaked out.”

“I am freaked out. You know I’m not capable of babies! I don’t even want to hold her, so keep on doing what you’re doing, Uncle Adam.” Royce’s voice is dripping in sarcasm. “Also, someone needs to bring Vere in on the information updates. She should have known everything from the beginning.”

Adam sighs. “Fine. You’re right. It was a mistake to keep her out of the plan. I’ll get her ramped in, eventually. After I sleep.”

The way Royce is so disdainful of the baby and the responsibilities that come with his daughter is wrecking my heart, because I know my father loved every second of when Sage and I were babies. He used to talk about it all the time. How he loved holding us, and even how he loved the spit-up and diaper changes. He’d always mention how we were the best life-change with such a twinkle in his eye. That twinkle—it was—is, such a part of what makes up my father’s face and personality. What I miss every single day.

Because thinking about my dad and starting to cry right here seems way scarier than talking to rock stars, I pad forward, my feet sinking into the thick, large mushroom colored rug that was placed over the polished ebony wood floors.

When I’m right behind them and they still haven’t heard my approach, I finally blurt out, “Um. Hi.” I move even closer and don’t pretend I didn’t overhear them by saying, “Little-nanny-girl, is uh…reporting for duty or…work.”

They both leap away from the crib like they’ve been caught stealing something. They’re also suddenly so tense that I wonder if they think I’m going to try to jump on them and get all fan-girl crazy or something?

Adam turns toward me while Royce, along with those silver eyes of his, thankfully moves in the opposite direction of where I’m standing.

Adam grins wide as he looks me up and down. “Thank God you’re here. But where’s your shoes?”

I point behind me. “I can put them back on, but they’re noisy flip flops so…I thought…just in case she was sleeping.” I motion to the crib. “Mrs. Hildebrandt says if you don’t like my outfit she can send up a hotel uniform. I’m not sure exactly what a hired nanny should wear. So…yeah.”

“No. That’s fine you took off your shoes. Considerate. We did the same. And your outfit seems great to me.”

Royce calls out with his back to me, “We want you to feel comfortable.”

I decide not to bring up the part where I’ve never been more uncomfortable in my whole life and forge onward, “Hope I’m not late. Gregory said seven. Paper signing and key card and instructions on comportment took a while.” I tug on the lanyard so he knows what I’m talking and pretend to examine it some so I don’t have to look at either of the guys directly while I get used to the sheer size of them. Yesterday they were sitting or crouching in and out of the limo, but today they’re standing and I could swear they’re both over six feet tall.

I already learned yesterday these nearly demi-god looking people make my knees shake and my tummy spin in ways that mess with my head. I’m going to have to be careful, move slowly and think before speaking or glancing at their beautiful faces, so I don’t come across as a complete idiot.

If I haven’t already.

Adam steps forward like he’s moving in to shake my hand or something. “We didn’t know if you’d show up or not.”

When I realize Adam and Royce are both also barefoot, and that Adam’s toes are getting too close to my toes, I can’t help it, I step back.

“Why wouldn’t I show up?” I answer, trying to not stutter. “I was at the hotel to interview for a job when I met Mrs. Felix. I’m…uh…very grateful because I really needed this job. So, thank you.” I glance nervously toward Royce’s back then pin my eyes to the carpet around my feet. “Sorry about any confusion I may have caused yesterday.”

“That was all on us. We’re running a mad-circus here.” Adam waves his hand around the room. “Royce and Mrs. Felix say you’ve worked with babies and have real experience. How? Why? You look pretty young to be some kind of baby ninja.”

I work my gaze upwards a little, pretending now that I’m adjusting the length of the lanyard to sit better around my neck. “I worked in a daycare for years. It was one the district set up so teachers could bring their babies to work. Students got credit when we worked there. Last year, I also helped at this teen mom group home after school. It was mostly babysitting so the moms could have a break or study nearby. I love snuggling little babies.”

“Cool. Nice to know you’re qualified. A baby loving snuggle-lover is what we need.” Adam steps forward and I step back again.

“Dude. Did you really just say a snuggle-lover?” Royce’s low voice rumbles through the air and makes the hair on the back of my neck tickle.

“What? Was that inappropriate? I meant you’re just what the baby needs.” Adam chuckles, stopping, then stepping forward again while I continue to step back. His chuckle turns into a low laugh. “Well, this is different. Royce. Spot on. She’s doing it again.”

“Doing what?” I catch Royce’s head turning toward me out of the corner of my eye, which causes me to turn away from him and involuntarily step back a bit more.

These two have made me so nervous I’m getting queasy.

Adam steps forward again. “It’s like what you said about her yesterday,” he says with another chuckle on the end of it. “She is the first teenage girl we’ve met who’s tried to get away from us instead of stay near us. So cute. So fascinating. You aren’t going to run away today, are you, Robin?” Adam laughs again and steps a half-step closer.

I hold up my hands like a shield but manage to force my feet to stay still as chatter pours out of my mouth and I feel my cheeks heating, “I—I’m not—running away. You’re both intimidating. And, fine. I’m nervous because, well, who wouldn’t be nervous right now? It’s the first day of work and I’ve never been a nanny before, and you two are really, tall, and your rock-star voices sort of make the walls of the room shake when you talk and so that’s all a lot to take in for someone who’s just normal and boring and…yeah.” I pull in a long shaky breath. “I’m working hard to get over my jitters quickly, but it’s not that easy. Could you please do me a favor and move aside so I can get to the baby and like...start working? That will help.” I nod my head toward the only open spot in the room that’s not stuffed with shopping bags and boxes, hoping he will take my hint and move aside.

“Of course.” Adam steps away while Royce retreats even farther away ducking around boxes and bags until he’s at the furthest side of the room near the floor to ceiling window that’s fronted by a rocking glider chair. One with plush seats that are still wrapped in plastic and places his arms on the window so he can lean and stare out.

Adam continues, “I won’t tease you anymore, that was uncool. I like that you’re so honest with your thoughts, though. You’re not the first to be nervous around us, but everyone always fakes that they’re cool with it. I like how you don’t seem to pretend anything.”

I glance back at him and laugh a little. “Uh…this has been me, pretending that I am really cool, if you must know. Sadly, I’m a bad actor. My awkward will not let up. Sorry.”

Adam laughs out loud. “We like awkward, don’t we, Royce? And I already like you. You’re so funny.”

Royce mutters something unintelligible as he starts moving a bunch of boxes and bags like he’s trying to organize things. That, or build up a taller wall of stuff between us.

I let my gaze go up more, all the way to Adam’s smile. It’s genuine and not at all mocking, which makes me relax a little. I try to meet his eyes—adult to adult—because despite how I’m screaming like a little girl inside, outside, and as of today, I’m a grown, cool-headed woman.

A grown woman with a brother to support.

A grown woman with my first real job, and because these guys are my new bosses, I’m a grown woman who needs to get my shit together, and fast.

Sadly, all I do is gasp when my eyes meet Adam’s straight on. “Oh wow. You have gold lion eyes. Exactly the color of amber mixed with sunlight,” I burst out. “Exactly how they looked on the poster down in the lobby. No photo editing on your eyes, either.” The words won’t stop. “I love color. Like, I notice colors because I’m a--”

So much for being a grown woman.

I shake my head. “I’m a dork? Sorry. I’ll get used to you.”

“It’s cool. Our eyes is one of the reasons we were matched onto our first TV show together way back when. We know they stop people in their tracks. If you think these are cool,” he points to his eyes, shaking his head, “Wait until you see Hunter’s eye color. Mine are considered the tamest of the three. Our agent calls us Earth, Wind and Fire, after his favorite seventies band. I get to be ‘earth’. The most boring of all, but after the Narnia movies came out, of my most consistent hashtags on the band’s Instagram are AslanLives or simply AdamTheLion.”

“Oh, that’s perfect. Narnia. Lion. Witch. Wardrobe. Aslan was the best character. I can see the similarities. Yes. I bawled when he died. Book and movie.” I’m nodding, way too much, but I can’t stop, and his comments have made me wonder if Royce is ‘wind’, or if he’s ‘fire’.

But I know the answer. He’s fire. Those white hot—burning, lightning eyes of his have to be fire.

“I cried, too.” Adam grins and bites his lower lip like he’s holding back on teasing me again.

“Yep. Okay. Yeah.” I pull in a long breath and slap a hand to my forehead, wishing I could also slap my own cheeks hard. “I’m not doing any better on working through the jitters I mentioned, am I?”

“You aren’t running at least,” Royce says, his tone is still cynical.

“Don’t beat yourself up about the jitters thing.” Adam tip-toes back in closer to peer in the crib along with me. When I look over and smile my thanks, I have to work hard to close my mouth yet another time, because up close and smiling down at the baby, holy-heck, this Adam Marcus dude is over the top. My head starts spinning.

Of course he is beautiful.

Like Royce Devlin, he’s a rockstar.

Beautiful and a rockstar.

And he just warned me that Hunter Kennedy is going to be beautiful, too.

Beautiful with freakish, bright eyes.

Get over it. Stop noticing it.

Them.

These people are your bosses.

Being beautiful is part of their job and me not noticing it is going to be part of my job.

For a week or two anyhow.

It’s obvious Adam’s spent a lot of time in the sun, that, or his skin is just naturally darker than Royce’s lighter, golden tan. Again, not that I’m comparing their tans or overly noticing them, because I’m not. I’m an artist and artists notice colors and skin tones. We’re trained to be attracted to nature combined with grace and balance. These guys have all of that and more, but it’s expected. Part of their jobs. Which is why I should stop feeling all fluttery and guilty about admiring how well they’re made. Right?

Like Royce, Adam’s wearing sweats slung low on his hips which has me wondering if this outfit is some sort of rockstar pajama uniform the stylists suggested to make them look extra hot. The plain white t-shirts don’t look like any t-shirt you could buy in a regular store. They look sewn to fit in a way that highlights every single muscle on these guys and…so enter the grace and balance thing again. Attractive. Because of nature.

Yeah.

Again, not staring.

Not comparing.

My gaze halts on a swirling tattoo where Adam’s bicep bulges the widest. This time I bite the insides of my cheeks so I don’t blurt out more random comments. But, oh, how I want to. This tattoo is no simple tattoo. It’s amazing art, all done in the shape of a heart. Art like I’ve never seen! Art like I hope to create someday. Not on skin, because I don’t want to be a tattoo artist, but in sculpture and on canvas.

The part of the tattoo not covered by his shirt is like Medieval church art meets modern comic book art, meets wow. There’s a little cross coming out of the heart’s top with a perfect, bright-red apple in the center. The apple’s so bright you can tell that’s it’s been newly added, where the rest of the tattoo is more faded, suggesting it was done earlier.

The heart’s border is made up of scrolling, tiny cursive writing. I’m close enough to read how it repeats the words Adam & Eve over and over. The entire thing is crosshatched and layered in a very distinctive way so, even though created in stages, it’s all obviously done by the same artist. It also has this ultra-realistic, 3-D effect happening on the curves that make up the heart and the apple.

I wonder briefly if Adam’s extra religious. And then I almost laugh at that thought, because you don’t have Adam and Eve, a cross, and a bright red apple on your arm if you’re not religious. Right? What else could that mean? Thankfully, there’s no creepy snake anywhere in the composition. I assume that in addition to having great taste in tattoo artists, and how he’s smiles with such sincerity my intuition tells me he’s also probably a good guy. A nice person.

I flick a glance at Royce’s back and uncharitably decide his entire body is probably covered in hundreds of badly drawn, cliché snake and skull tattoos. Working to cover the too-long silence that’s stretching between us all, I try to force some more conversation, “I—hope the concert last night went okay? Were you...very late to the stage?” I ask.

“We were late, but our fans forgave us.” Adam bends down some as his eyes try to probe mine. “Did you make it to your, appointment, or whatever had you running off so quickly?”

I nod, while he glances over my head and apparently has a silent guy-guy conversation with Royce. After a couple of head shakes and pointing at the baby, Adam rolls his eyes and turns back to me.

“So, your name. It’s Robin?” Adam re-starts the conversation that I seem to have killed again. This time he gingerly leans on the crib as though to pull a small blanket over the baby. “Like the bird?”

“Yes. And no.” He and I step back a little from the crib. “I’m named after the final Army training exercise called Robin Sage. The Robin Sage decides if a soldier makes it into Special Forces or not. Our dad, he’s an SF trainer. That’s where it comes from. I’m Robin and my little brother, he’s Sage.”

“Special Forces!” Adam’s brows have shot to the top of his head. “Does that mean we have to fear your father?”

“Yes.” I force a laugh trying to cover the tug of longing his question brought forward. “My dad always tells people there will be one ounce of blood drawn for every tear I shed.”

“Nice line. And…we will be very careful not to make you cry.” He points to the baby. “After hanging with this cute nugget, I totally feel your father’s words. That’s the kind of dad I’m going to be, for sure. One ounce of blood…hah. Love it.”

I dart another quick glance back at Royce’s stiff back and note that his muscled, swoon worthy everything still hasn’t turned away from the window.

Is he even going to come over here and properly meet me?

Frustrated, I shake my head at Adam, willing the guy to get his friend Royce to tell us what kind of dad he wants to be, but like Royce can feel the questions and accusations burning out of my eyes, he jumps and heads for the door.

Still without turning back, he calls out, “Let’s get out of here and let her do the job, Adam. I need to sleep.”

Adam and I had both jumped at Royce’s sudden movement. “My man Royce.” Adam points at Royce’s back. “He’s been acting really off, but of course none of us can blame the new daddy for that. He needs time to adjust.”

“Adam. Let’s go?” Royce pauses at the doorframe.

“Not yet. Dude. We can’t just leave her like this, can we? Like we haven’t even officially introduced ourselves to her yet and... the baby doesn’t really know who she is, so we can’t just duck out, can we?”

“You don’t have to worry about leaving me. I’m self-sufficient,” I say. “And I do know who is who. You’re Adam Marcus, he’s Royce Devlin, the other guy is Hunter Kennedy. Vere Roth is his girlfriend.” I shrug. “My little brother is one of your street team leads. He’s been brainwashing me about Guarderobe facts for years, and yesterday all I needed was a quick catch up.”

“Well that’s cool.” Adam crosses his arms. “Then you probably heard I’m the awesome one as well as the best looking one. Oh, and the smartest one.” He winks. “Royce Devlin is the asshole pretty one that the ladies dump after only one date, because he’s too uptight. And you know that Hunter Kennedy is all wrapped up with Vere, who is in fact the sweetest person in the world besides Mrs. Felix and this baby here. Oh. And you, I think.”

I laugh. “Uh. Well... yes, that’s kind of what I’ve heard. And thank you for calling me nice.”

“Oh my God. This is too stressful.” Royce reaches up and grips the edge of the door frames with both hands.

Adam rolls his eyes toward Royce. “No one’s stopping you from going to bed, cranky. I’m enjoying getting to know our beautiful new nanny.”

Royce grips the trim on top of the door a little too hard. “We all promised not to flirt with her, Adam. You also can’t be trusted to be alone with her because you blab too much, so please walk out with me. Right now.”

Adam places a hand over his heart and gives me this wounded look. “Was I flirting? No. Not even. Just called you nice and beautiful, that’s not flirting, that’s a simple fact. We’re making friends. Aren’t we?” His wide, impish smile makes me nod and smile back at him. He leans in with a low whisper, “Besides, I would totally flirt with you, but my heart belongs to another. Royce knows that, so I’m not at all hitting on you like he did last night in the limo.” He jerks his head toward Royce.

“Piss-off, Adam. I was protecting the entire band. Testing her. Damn, you’re annoying.”

Adam wrinkles his nose, those lion’s eyes dancing with more amusement. “Do you think because Royce is the baby’s daddy, the baby’s first words will be pure profanity?” He glances worriedly into the crib. “Is that possible she’s absorbing his bad vocabulary even now, while she’s asleep?”

“It’s possible. But, it only takes a little effort to change your ways. Babies are forgiving.” I’ve said all that in a joking tone, but hopefully Royce has absorbed my real meaning.

This guy needs to try.

“Royce did you catch that? Robin the little nanny girl finds you redeemable despite how you may have already messed up parts of the baby’s mind.”

“Adam. Shut. The. Hell. Up. Let’s go.”

The baby startles at the sound of Royce’s voice, and when it appears she needs help to settle, I scoop her into my arms.

“Oh great,” I hear Royce muttering. “We just got her to sleep and now she’s up again?”

“I’ve got this. No need to run to your own child,” I call over my shoulder, but the only response I get is the stiffening of his shoulders. I grab a soft pink blanket to tuck around the baby’s legs, bring her close, and start rocking her back and forth. It only takes a couple of seconds before she quiets and is staring up at me with her gorgeous, round, laser-beam-blue eyes.

“Hello, little one. Aww. Wow, you’re so cute,” I whisper, forgetting all about Royce and Adam for a moment. As the weight and warmth of the baby settles into my arms I can’t help but hug her close and sigh against her soft cheek. “Oh…gosh…this baby is astonishingly perfect.” I breathe her in, letting the ginger fluff of her hair that Adam seems obsessed with tickle my face. “Whatever soap you’re using is the best. She’s like taffy, or vanilla or sunshine or, I don’t know. But her tiny ears and her tiny nose and all of her…tiny self, seems almost edible, doesn’t she?”

“Aw. You’ve made her smile.” Adam’s peering at the baby too.

I see Royce turn toward me out of the corner of my eye saying, “See? She’s got it dialed. I’m out.”

When I look up Royce is gone but when the baby grins up at me again, this time adding in a little gurgle, I have to laugh quietly. “Oh, that’s how you’ll get my heart, huh? Can you believe she’s only been alive a few months and she’s already so powerful? All it took was one tiny smile and now she owns me,” I say to Adam.

“She owns all of us. It’s a relief to know the baby will be in good hands. Thank you,” Adam walks toward the door.

“Shouldn’t the baby’s father be saying those words to me?”

Adam turns back, frowning. “Don’t think too badly of him. The guy will need time. It’s all been a bit of a shock. Babies are scary, you know? Especially surprise babies.”

“They are not. And this little one, she’s more than a baby to him. She’s his daughter and she needs him to step up fast.”

“He will.” He points at the empty doorway and then back at the baby. “Try to understand that you’ve walked right into the middle of a tornado. Literally and figuratively. We have lots of those. Weekly. Daily. Hourly.” He points around the messy room. “We live in this constant, spinning state of being, all while things out of our control circle around us like vultures or anvils waiting to drop. This time there’s a baby to protect and so much shuffling has happened underneath our feet that it’s madness going on here. Royce is always the one who thinks he can put our Humpty Dumpty cracks back together, only this time he can’t figure out a good plan. Let him catch up on sleep, and you can get to know him better. You’ll see. He’s not a bad guy. Who knows—you might even like Royce one day. We all love him, so how bad could he be?”

I don’t answer that, because I’ve got no idea how anyone could like Royce Devlin let alone love him. “I only need a quick rundown on the baby’s status. Can you do that for me? I should have asked Royce.”

“Status?” Adam tilts his head. “What does that mean? I don’t speak…nanny.”

“When was her last feeding? Last changing? And what things do you want me to use for her. Like which diapers? Any changes of clothes you want? I need to know which formula you are using, too, and how to make more? Oh, and what should I call her?”

Adam winces again at that last question. “Oh. Her name, uh…no.” He shakes his head. “Mrs. Felix and Gregory have vowed they’re going to meet with an attorney all afternoon, and they’re trying to locate her missing birth certificate, but if they can’t it means Royce will be getting blood tests and handing over DNA samples next, because he wants to prove parentage because that’s a big part of what he’s going to do—or not do…even though…”

“Even though we all know he is the father?”

Adam shrugs while I shake my head, angry all over again. “If Royce won’t claim her as his own, then she’s even sadder than an abandoned child, because she’s a fatherless and abandoned child. Poor little baby.”

Adam sighs and his expression loses all of its earlier spark. “Damn. I wish this were not such a pile of messed-up crap. I wish we could tell you more, but I can’t. There’s going to be all this legal mess now. We have so many secrets, and promises between us guys, and none of us want this story to leak until Royce is truly ready to—”

“Adam!”

We both startle a second time as Royce’s pissed-off voice comes from the hallway.

“He’s still out there? Eavesdropping this whole time?” I whisper, shocked.

“Oh. He does that. A lot. To everyone. Get used to him lurking in hallways.” Adam grins. “It’s a good sign actually. He might not claim the baby as his yet, but if he’s out there worrying over every little thing, it’s kind of proof that he’s the ultimate helicopter parent already.”

A fist or a bare foot slams into the wall in the hallway, then after a long second, Royce calls out, “Robin, the damn baby was fed about an hour ago. The sterilized bottles and the formula stuff can be found laid out on the counter in the kitchen. She’s still not on solid foods yet, but is tasting oatmeal and rice cereal, and she will be having more of that as soon as we can get her checked out by a pediatrician without also alerting the planet that we have a baby up here. We measured out the next few bottles so you can see how to do it and left them in the kitchen. Add the filtered and purified water that was left out as well. We’re currently doing six-ounces of formula per feeding. Use the fancy new bottle heater on the counter. When the light is green, the bottle is warm enough, but test it on your wrist to be sure.”

Adam waggles his brows at me. “See? He’s doing okay for day two of being a dad.” He rolls his eyes toward the door, adding in a whisper, “If that’s enough info, I’ll go get that other baby out in the hallway down for his nap now.”

“Sure, but, will you tell Royce I’m sorry about hitting him in the face yesterday?” I whisper, pointing at the unopened boxes and baby stuff all around the room. “Oh, and while she’s sleeping can I can spend my time setting up a temporary nursery in here? Like unpack that changing table?”

“Sure. Yes. And thanks. And don’t worry, Royce heard you because he hears everything. He’s not mad about that face punch at all. The make-up artist, she’s pissed off at you, though. You should have seen the crazy we had to go through not to show his bruised-up face on the jumbo screens last night at the arena. Tonight, I fear it’s going to be even worse. Thing has gone all purples and blues. If the paparazzi catches wind of that, they’ll make up such huge stories about a bar-fight that never happened, or a motorcycle accident he’s had, even though Royce doesn’t own a motorcycle, or some such stupid rumor will surface,” Adam starts chuckling, as he walks out into the hallway.

I hear unintelligible whispers, then some thumping against the wall again, as Adam says, “What? Ow. Dude. What! It is funny as hell, and you’re even funnier with that massive shiner! Stop. Dude.”

I could swear they’re trading what sounds like actual punches as they walk away still whisper-fighting. I stay motionless in the room until the only sound I can hear is the baby’s gentle breathing.

“One day, one moment at a time, right, little one.” I croon out, locking eyes with her and changing my voice to high so she smiles at me again. “And don’t you worry. I’m going to help your daddy see that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him so he can be the best thing that ever happened to you, just like my daddy.”