When I get off the elevator and enter the top-level mega-suite, I realize I’ve arrived earlier than usual, because the place is dark and quiet. The security guard, who’s way nicer than the chauffer, looks up from his iPad and waves me toward him with a small smile. “Mrs. Felix and Mr. Gregory wanted me to tell you they left town last night so they can be ready to meet with a different attorney. They had to go to Tallahassee this time, and they might need to stay in the capitol for a couple of days. The guys don’t have another show until Friday, so on off days like this, they sleep in. But just like a bunch of kids left alone with no parents around, the band partied pretty hard last night after the concert.”

Not liking his story, I frown. “Partied? What about the baby?”

“Don’t worry.” The guy smiles. “Vere didn’t participate. She took baby duty. A couple of stragglers are still awake, and some might still be drinking.” He rolls his eyes and winks at me like I know what he means.

“Ah. Okay.” I shrug. “Thanks for the update.”

“It’s more of a warning.”

I nod, playing it cool and re-gathering some of my backbone. Because adult, homeless, nannies to the stars always play things cool and they have loads of solid backbone.

I make my way into the baby’s room, and relax when I see Vere cuddling the baby in the rocking chair. Adam’s there, too, sitting crisscross on the carpet staring up at both of them. He’s smiling and whispering over the sleeping baby bundle, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear the two are acting like they’re the proud parents. But when I get a look at how cute the baby is this morning, all soft and peachy-pink wrapped up in her designer baby blanket, zipped into her floral, organic cotton, footed jammies that bring out the pinks in her skin and the red streaks in her hair all while she’s sucking on a little fist like a champ, I also have the proud parent feeling.

“Hi.” I drop down on my knees next to Adam. “Oh gosh, would you look at her working so hard?” I whisper as they look up from the baby and smile to greet me. “Looks like she’s teething.”

Adam looks up, grinning at me kind of funny. “Our nanny, Robin. She’s so-soo-smmmart about babies, right? I like you, Robin Love. I do,” Adam says almost bumping heads with me as I reach to rub a finger on the baby’s cheek. His breath pours over me and I grimace because it smells exactly like the strong amber whiskey my dad likes to have on special occasions.

He adds, “Thank God you come-comin-in-here every day. What day is it?” He looks at his hand and holds up fingers. “One, two, three, four, five more days an-then it’s done. And all we need is Robin! Love…love…love! Love is all we need.” He sings it like that Beatles tune, closing his eyes and rocking back and forth. “Love-Iss-all--I-need, anyways.” He opens his heavy-lidded eyes, but I can tell he can hardly focus on my face.

“Long night?” I raise my brow, which makes him laugh.

He sways back and forth. “Jus-a-little-bit-long. ‘Lil-Robin.”

Vere rolls her eyes toward Adam in silent signal. I return her look with a nod—because I get it; he’s more than tipsy. He’s hammered.

“Sweet thing. She’s dressed so cute this morning.” I smooth the blanket by her feet. “How’d she do last night?”

“No thanks to the jokers who thought it would be a good idea to drown themselves in beer, she was great as usual.”

“Crown Royal, iss-not beer. Thas-what it is. Crown Royal. Call-it, Crown-n-Coke. I drink men-manly drinks. That’s how it feels.” He grins, trying to focus on my face. “All this love. Robin Love. Hello.” He sings The Beatles song again, “Love, love-love. Love is all we need.” He nods at me, very serious again. “Crown Royal. Thasss-not mere beer.” He pauses and blinks between Vere and I. “Mere beer. Did you just hear me? Thasss-a-poem! Mere, beer, my dear. Hah.”

Vere quirks another brow. “Hunter went to bed an hour ago, but not our Adam.”

“I’m strong.” Adam grins.

“What about Royce?” I ask, not sure why I’m curious.

Adam snorts a laugh. “Royce. He’s a straight-edge, not fun. No drinks for him.” He nods slow, neck going wobbly, like his head is extra heavy. “Because he’s a control freak. Royce—he needs to have a beer and relax. At least-get-laid or something—soon. I tol’ him I will send up a girl soon. I will. I will find one willing. Yep. And soon.” He nods. “Gonna-be funny surprise with the joke on him. He thinks I won’t do it, but I will.”

Vere ignores Adam’s latest outburst again, and motions to the baby. “She’s freshly fed, bathed, and changed, but if you don’t mind, I’m not giving her up yet. She smells too amazing.”

Adam sighs. “Baby jus’-smiled right into my eyes. This little baby-so-cute like a lil-apple, I say. Better than all the shows on telvv-lisishon, watchin’ her.” Adam slurs a few more words I can’t understand while he slowly stands, keeping his eyes on the baby’s face. He’s weaving so much that when he takes his next step I make a break for him, because I think he’s going to topple backwards.

Luckily, before I intervene, he grabs the edge of the changing table and saves himself. He grins sheepishly at me, then points to the baby and Vere. “Do you see them? She looks so great with a baby. And Hunter—she an’ Hunter need to get married and make hundreds of these little things, too.”

He places his hand over his heart, stumbling to the window and looks out with this expression that says he’s trying to remember where he is. “Dragons live right over-there in Orlando.” He bobs his head back in our direction. “Do you know we can’t even go on those rollercoasters? Thas-because we’re Guarderobe. That means no fun. No rides. Ever. Unless we wan-to-do it with people screamin’ at us the whole time.” He blinks. “Sometimes I think, maybe it would still be fun to try, but then I think…whaff-iff? Whaff-iff someone got hurt jus-trying to get a picture with me. That’s not good. But when I think like that, then I’m talking like my-boy-Royce. I should just go, huh?” He hiccups, then sighs turning away from the view and holds his arms wide but after a second they dangle back at his sides like limp noodles. “It’s the best thing to have our dream and to be us, make music, make people happy. I love that part. But us—Guarderobe, we can ruin lots of things. Cause car accidents.” He blinks wide as if remembering something. “I did that once. Felt so bad. The press…they said such bad things. But they do it more though. Ruin people’s lives. Make more car accidents. Poor Princess Dianna. Do-ya-member-tha-story from when we were kids. They chased her in Paris. An-she-died.”

Frowning more, he turns back to the view, putting his forehead heavily on the glass and points down toward the street. “There they are. Even now. Waiting for the next picture so they can chase-me-round-in-cars and make up stories ‘bout all of us. That’s why Royce is so afraid. That’s why he doesn’t want the baby here. See, lil-Robin?” He sit-leans against the sill, banging the back of his head some as he gets settled. “You’re so hard on Royce when you give him those angry-looks that tell him he’s supposed to know what to do how to be a real father. But you got to understand. Iss—all—scary shit. We never know what to do even how to be ourselves. We make plans. Lots of plans, and then we wind up doing none of those plans an-make-nother-plan-fast. That’s the one we usually do. The fast plan. The last plan.” He laughs. “And now Royce says we can’t take that baby on tour. Says it’s dangerous.”

“The baby should be with her father, no matter what. Even on tour,” I say.

He laughs again and stumbles over to hug me, his amber-colored eyes are all bloodshot. “Thass-what-I-say, Robin. You make me feel so calm and right.” He rests the weight of his whole head on top of mine. “You should tell him what you said.”

I pull a face. “Oh, I will. Don’t you worry.”

“And so will I,” Vere agrees.

“Good.” Adam sings whiskey-breath down onto my head, “Love. Love. Love. Love is all we need. And I love you now Robin. I really do.”

“Oh, God. I’m going to text Royce to come in for back-up,” Vere says, laughing at my eye roll. She pulls out her phone while I twist out of Adam’s hug. I feel kind of bad for doing it because my movement almost topples him to the floor. Luckily he catches himself by grabbing onto the back of the crib this time.

“If he doesn’t agree with me taking that baby on tour, then I’m going to run-away for good. I will. Maybe open a…a… used book store or have a museum. Because we can’t be rockstars forever, you know? When I was a kid, I used to want to open a rock shop. All-the-other kids said they’d be firemen, but I said every time: rock-shop owner!” He holds up one finger too high in the air. “Or. Wait.” He grins, freezing for a second. “I’m already having a cheese shop, aren’t I?” He takes the finger he’d left pointing in the air, and weaves it to the center of his chest. “Adam Marcus loves cheese, loves making cheese, but nobody knows. I make-more-than-music, you know? Cheese.” He sighs out long and loud. “Love is-all-we-need.”

He laughs to himself, then nods his head solemnly while he blinks at me like he has just seen me for the first time. “Do you like cheese, Robin?”

I bite my lower lip and shoot Vere another look. “I love cheese, yes.”

“Good. You can join up with us. Which is good, because Royce is going to need someone to go with him when I ask him to come along, too. I think he likes you. As in like-likes-likes you. Yup.”

“Okay. Sure, he does,” I retort sarcastically and shake my head.

“Aww. He does.” He puts two hands on his chest. “My heart’s bespoke, too. That’s how they say it in the UK if something is already taken. Bespoke. Be. Spoke.” He blinks heavily again then swallows. “Girls with accents. That what I’m be-spoken-for. One of those. It’s so cute how they talk over there.”

He starts swaying all over again while his focus tries to re-settle on my face. “Adam and Eve. They were bespoke. Just-like my beauffful-tattoo-here.” He points at his arm. “Adam and Eve. You know that story?” He stops himself from falling by clinging to the back of the crib again. “You’re so smart at your college, Vere. Tell me what happened to Adam and Eve. Not the part that we all know about where they got in trouble in the garden. Tell me how Chapter Two turns out. I don’t care if you say spoilers.” He walks back over to stand in front of her, and crosses his arms crooked against his chest like that’s going to help prop him up somehow. “Like what happens to them? To Adam and Eve? Does the love story work out?”

“Adam, you know The Bible is not a sequential, chapter by chapter book, right?”

“That’s not what I wanted to hear, Vere,” Adam whines out. “Tell me something good.”

“Dude.” Royce calls out from the shadows of the doorway, startling us all. “Adam and Eve’s pack of lies and bad behavior dammed all of mankind forever. That’s what happened.”

“Royce! My brother.” Adam waves like he’s a little kid, then turns back to Vere. “Thasss-not—right what Royce said? Is it? Adam and Eve—got in trouble forever?”

Vere sighs. “Yep. They basically invented the word ‘sin’ as we know it for lying to the big guy.” She points towards heaven. “And then they moved out of Eden and had kids. Cain and Abel. Two boys.”

“Wow. Okay.” Adam puts his hands back over his heart. “Kids. That’s a great thing. So they had a family.”

As Royce draws closer, it’s hard not to notice that Royce’s hair is sleepy-tousled-sexy, and that he’s wearing the sweats with white T-shirt combo I’d admired the other day. Why does the guy I hate most in the world, have to be so darn attractive?

Royce’s stressed, and slightly bleary eyes are impenetrable and have been stuck on Vere non-stop as he enters the room. She shakes her head in response to some sort of silent conversation they’ve been having. Then, like he’s been holding his breath, he breathes out as though relieved, while pointedly ignoring my presence.

Adam, unaware that the air in the room just got so tight it’s crackling, asks Royce, “What happens with the brothers? We’re like brothers, aren’t we, bro? My bro, Royce.” He beams.

When Royce turns back to Adam, his voice is stern, “One brother murdered the other brother. Which is exactly what will go down in this room if you don’t walk out of here right now and go to sleep. Dude. Seriously. I could kill you for this.”

Adam’s so tipsy he’s easily redirected toward the door with one soft shove from Royce. “Okaaaaay. Sheesh.” He waves a hand in our direction. “Don’t worry. Royce never really kills me. Just says that all-the-time.” He turns back to me, steps wavering, like he’s in some slow-motion movie. “Robin. Royce thinks he’s the Big Bad Wolf and you’re Lil’ Robin-Riding-Hood. Says we got to keep you away from him. But you two are-the-nicest people I know, and I say it’s a match. Gotta swipe right and keep the good ones. Tell her, Vere. Tell Robin that Royce’s darkness is not—real. Nope.” His head bobs wildly again. “Come on, Vere!” He’s nearly shouting now.

When I don’t answer, only shake my own head, Vere, like she’s trying to humor Adam, leans in and whispers, “Adam’s right. Royce doesn’t have darkness. The bad-boy stuff is an act.”

Royce’s head whips back. His ice-blue eyes are still cold, but this time, I see a flicker of panic running through them. “Christ, Vere. This is the crap that’s been falling out of his mouth, and you’re supporting him?”

Because I’m annoyed that Royce came in here and didn’t glance once at his baby, I answer pointedly: “Don’t worry Royce, I don’t believe them, if that’s what you’re thinking. Your darkness can’t all be an act, or this baby wouldn’t be here and you would admit that you’re her father, instead of coming in here how you just did, and then endlessly blowing her off, right?”

He doesn’t answer, nor will he meet my direct glare.

“I’m counting the days ‘till this is over.” Adam sighs, the smile sliding off his face. Royce forces him to exit into the hallway, but not before Adam adds, “I think iss-time for a new plan, Royce. I don’t like this one anymore, because I want Robin to like you just how I like you.”

“Well, I don’t want Robin to like me. Go to bed.”

Vere and I exchange wry smiles when Adam calls back, “You’re not my boss, Royce,” so loudly his words have echoed through the hallway.

Royce glances back at us then pauses mid-step when his phone starts firing off texts and alerts. So many that it sounds like he’s got an exploding electronic keyboard in his pocket instead of a phone. “Crap. We’ll be international news for years to come if this baby’s mom doesn’t return soon,” he grumbles quietly, scanning his monitor for so long that deep worry-creases form between his eyes, making him look much older than twenty-one. “The poor little baby…if only I could save her from all that is Guarderobe, right? Shit. It’s all getting too far out of control.” He shakes his head, darting me another glance, then resting his moon-beam gaze on Vere’s equally worried face. “At least the baby won’t remember any of this, right? As long as she’s loved in the end.”

“She is loved, Royce. She is,” Vere whispers. “It’s okay.”

I raise my brows high, surprised Royce has even mentioned love inside of his worries about the baby. Thinking he’s at one of those life-defining moments of transformation, I boldly interject quietly but firmly: “She’d do better if her father would spend some actual time with her. Notice her? Hold her? Bond with her, be close to her much more during this crazy time. Who knows what she will remember or not? Maybe you shouldn’t avoid her so much.” I motion to her nestled in Vere’s arms. “Like you could start…now. Give her a little cuddle in the rocking chair? Just for a few minutes.”

He’s looking at me like I’ve grown two heads. “Thank you, tiny Dr. Phil, but that’s not going to happen.”

“But you said…as long as she’s loved?” My voice loses some of its bravado. “What would you lose if you bonded with her, starting right now?”

“How about, I’d lose the last of my fucking mind?” He holds up a hand when my mouth drops open. “Excuse me, Robin, if I’m not up for your parenting suggestions right now, or ever. Again. She’s not my baby until someone proves it, which is why my grandmother and uncle are in another city right now, texting me insane questions about when I can meet them to have a blood test. As for the bonding that needs to happen during this time? That’s what you were hired to do. So, leave me alone and do your job. I’m doing mine while trying to get out of being called that baby’s father.”

“Royce!” Vere shouts. “Robin doesn’t deserve your stress. You’re being a complete ass.”

“I know. But just because you all suddenly like her so much, doesn’t mean I can be someone different, because isn’t me being a jerk part of the damn plan?”

Vere puts her hand on his arm. “Well maybe Adam is right then. Maybe the plan sucks…”

He yanks his whole body away from her. From me. “No. It’s good. I’m good.”

“I know but…can’t you think of a better way? Maybe handle how you interact with Robin and the baby differently? You just cursed at her.”

Flickers of helplessness— or is it hopelessness— cross between their stares.

“Fine.” He sighs, trapping me in his silver-blue gaze and grimaces, looking as though he’d like to run from here, but he’s simply trying to make Vere happy now. “I’m sorry if I shouted. I won’t do that anymore. Vere’s right. I need a better plan where you’re concerned, and I should have made one sooner. So here goes. I’d prefer it, if you could get over the fact that I’m not going to bond with this baby this week or even next. Not how you want, anyhow, and not ever up to your very high expectations. Also, I’d prefer if you wouldn’t talk to me at all for the next few days. I won’t come in the nursery; nor will I lurk in the hallways anymore being all agonized and worried about this. About you.” He levels me with a stare. “And what you think I can become, when I just can’t do it. Then, maybe you won’t have to keep pressuring me or be disappointed when you look at me with those damn mind-reading big-blue eyes of yours. Okay? How’s that for a new and better plan, Vere? Happy?”

Vere’s lowered her brows and she’s stuttering like she’s not happy at all, but before she can protest I answer quickly, “Done. And thank you for improving on my working conditions with this new—plan. Nice to know you’ve at least been standing out in the hallways and agonizing over stuff.” I roll my eyes, giving him just the look I know he doesn’t want me to give him ever again. The look that says he falls short. The look that insists he can and should do better. Even now, I can’t stop myself from trying. He’s the worst. Shaking my head and with utter scorn attached to my voice, I add, “With your permission, these will be the last words I speak to you until my job is finished here with Guarderobe.”

“Perfect. Just perfect. And thank you.”

“What? This is not what I meant, Royce, and you know it. No,” Vere cries out.

“Too bad, Vere. This is a situation where not everyone gets to be friends at the end how you like. This is the best way, considering I hate to lie. Now she can stop expecting shit I can’t possibly deliver.”

“Royce. You’re so out of line, and listen to yourself you sound so—mean!” Vere crosses her arms, glaring.

“Whatever works so the fewest people get hurt, right?”

“And if Robin gets hurt, because I think you just did that, big-time despite the poker face she’s got stapled on.” Vere cries out. “What about Robin?”

“I’m fine. I’m getting paid,” I answer stiffly. “I’m just fine.”

“I wish we’d never come up with this damn, parent-goes-M-I-A plan,” he mutters, glancing at me.

I gasp at Royce’s choice of words and my heart twists so painfully tears jump into the edges of my eyes. He can yell at me all he wants, but did he have to say, parent goes M-I-A?

Misunderstanding that my reaction is not about him but about my own father, Royce settles his eyes on me again. His voice comes out all rough as he asks, “Damn it Robin, are you crying? Shit.”

Vere has also misunderstood and comes over to put her arm around my shoulder. “Royce. Oh, my God. See? Say something. She’s not fine. You’re such an ass.”

“I’m stuck, Vere. Can’t you see that? Dammed if I do, dammed if I don’t.” He jerks his head in my direction but talks about me like I’m not in the room anymore. “Maybe one day she’ll understand.”

I shake my head at both of them, because I won’t ever understand Royce Devlin. Ever. Nor do I want to!

We’re all distracted by Royce’s phone exploding again, and from the bag at Vere’s feet, her phone starts doing the same.

Royce takes his phone out first and visibly pales while he’s reading his bright screen. He suddenly looks ten years older, or ten years more exhausted and tormented than he did when he first came in the room. “Adam didn’t go to bed.” His voice grows so taut I can hear it snapping tighter with each word. “He got on the damn elevator and left the suite. He’s been talking to groupies. Shit. This time his antics are beyond epic. We’re so dead.”

“He could hardly walk or talk. Impossible.” Vere reaches into her bag at her feet and grabs her phone because her own phone has started exploding with texts, too. “Oh. God. Oh. God,” she whispers. “He’s already posted two live stories from the limo.” Her brown eyes grow panicky. “Who can shut off the social media feeds?”

“Working on it.” Royce flicks her a quick glance. “The chauffeur has him locked in, but he’s currently banging on the doors and calling for help. Snap story number two was him, acting like he’s a prisoner! Thank God the limo is soundproof.” Quickly, Royce fires a few texts off and opens his browser. “Okay. I have his location. The chauffeur has parked him down by the Ritz Hotel’s entryway and their staff is helping to keep the crowds away. The driver is begging me to intercept them, because the goddamn paparazzi have already spotted the limo.” He holds up his phone so we can see a selfie Adam’s just posted on Instagram. “He’s publicly begging for rescue, like he’s being held prisoner?”

“What?” Vere asks.

“That dumbass. Oh no. No. I will kill him. I really will. He’s now just posted to beg fans to meet up with him. Says he wants to ride some rollercoasters.” The creases in his forehead deepen. “His hashtags are trending with, #FreeAdamMarcus #MyTimeisNOW and #GuarderobeLovesCoasters. And. Hell, no.” He stares at his phone, gripping it too tight. “The chauffer just texted he’s on the move. Driving him toward Universal Studios! The crowd at the Ritz was causing a riot and that’s because Adam popped out of the sun roof and promised all the fans they can go inside the parks with him. All they have to do is follow the limo and he’s buying tickets. He’s like the pied piper. A whole crowd is running down the street behind him live-streaming this, and apparently, they’re blocking traffic.”

“Oh God,” Vere crinkles her brow. “What are you going to do?”

I’m so uncomfortable overhearing all of this, and because I’ve now promised not to speak to Royce, I hold back my own comments and worries, and work to reorganize the already over-organized diapers.

Royce sighs, “The line at Universal Studios is now so long it’s going around the block. If we don’t make an appearance at Universal after saying we would be there, we’re going to lose our contract, get this weekend’s concerts cancelled, and get sued for causing public mayhem.”

Vere sighs. “Oh, poor Adam.”

“How about poor me?” He rips both hands up through is hair, pausing to massage his thumbs deep into his temples. “I’m the one saddled with the baby. I’m the one who made the nanny cry because I’m forced to be a complete jerk. I’m the one that has to create a diversion big enough to attract the press away from poor, funny-drunk-Adam. He always gets to be tragic while I’m about to have to go ride some rollercoasters to make this right. I’m about to be mangled and assaulted by screaming strangers who will shove cameras in front of my face, try to slip me their cell phone numbers, or try to grab my ass and worse, all while Hunter’s exempt from this, because he’s afraid of crowds. So, yeah. Poor me. Got that? Everyone hold for the news at ten, because I’m about to be on it.”

I stand, because his tirade has made the baby wake up, but Vere’s beat me to her, and she’s already rocking her back to calm.

“Oh. Shit. And now I’m the one that woke up the damn-baby.”

He winces like he realizes he just lost it a bit too much. When we lock eyes for a second he whispers out like he’s speaking only to me, “I’m sorry. Really. Sorry.” And then he’s answering his ringing phone like he didn’t say that, muttering, “Hunter? You saw the live-stream? Can you post something about how I’m coming to join Adam right now. Post that I’m riding coasters and that I’ll have more free tickets. Post anything you can, but please post to ask the fans not to block traffic and to stay out of danger.”

If I didn’t hate Royce so much I would feel sorry for him, but I can’t let go of the idea that instead of being online and running off to amusement parks, he should let someone else handle Adam. He should be the one comforting the baby right now, not Vere.

“Okay. That’s working to start the diversion.” He breathes out, adding, “Vere, would you please alert the PR team and the bodyguards I’m heading to Universal Studios, and why? Ask them to get someone to meet me at the door with at least fifty tickets ready to pass out. Maybe one hundred. Can you contact the legal team and warn Gregory what’s up and ask if he can tell my grandmother?” He laughs, but it sounds like he’s hysterical as his eyes go back to slightly wild. “If things could even go more wrong. Coasters. Do you guys know I’m afraid of heights? Well, I am, and now the entire planet is about to witness me screaming like a little girl.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, because he’s already cursing into his phone again, while running out of the room.

“Wow.” I can only shake my head after he’s gone. “Is this normal?”

“Stuff like this happens at least once a month. Sometimes more.” Vere walks over and hands me the baby as though she knows I need something smiling, warm and adorable to hold. Finally, she adds quietly, “Royce is the master at dealing. Maybe now that you’ve seen him in action you can understand him more? He can’t stop himself from running in and trying to rescue everyone and everything.”

“Everyone except his own baby, you mean. I’m sorry Vere, but I swear I hate him now. I do.”

Vere frowns. “What’s going on here with this baby—it’s bigger than anything we’ve ever faced. There’s a lot you don’t understand. After we put out this fire, I am going to make him apologize for making you cry.”

“No. Please don’t.” I follow her to the door. “I’m good with the no-talking, avoidance agreement. In a few days, my job will be over.” I shrug. “Whoever Royce really is, I don’t want to know. Even if the guy became Santa Claus nice, or Labrador-puppy-approachable, I would still not respect him and I’d still be afraid of him. Maybe even more so after watching him today. I want no apologies from him, okay? None.” I drop my voice to a whisper. “He and I not speaking is going to make things better, for all of us.”

She sighs, and for the first time since I’ve known this girl, the twinkle fades from her expressive eyes. “Okay. Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”