What?

Nothing made sense as I stared at Ellen. Did she really think that Zoe was Blake’s child? But he’d introduced us as being his friends.

My gaze met Blake’s. He looked as puzzled as I was, along with a note of panic.

“Mother—“

“You should have told me,” Ellen said, patting Zoe on the back and swaying slightly. Zoe, for her part, looked perfectly content in Ellen’s arms.

“Mother, I—she—“

“I know we’re not close,” Ellen said, her voice shaking.

Suddenly, I wished I were somewhere else. She didn’t need a perfect stranger intruding on her private emotions. But the moment I tried to step back, she reached out her free arm. “My dear girl… you have no idea how happy I am to meet you. You and this beautiful little girl. My first grandchild.”

“Mrs. Hollister…” My attempt at setting her straight trailed off as Ellen looped her free arm around my neck, pulling me closer.

“Please, call me Ellen. We’re family now.”

Once I was at Ellen’s side, I shot Blake a panicky look. “Do something,” I mouthed.

But Blake seemed stunned. Finally, he tried again. “Mother, we have to talk.”

“Of course we do. I want to know everything about you.” This last part was directed at me. The gratitude in Ellen’s eyes did nothing to quell the panic inside me.

“Mother, Penny has to go clean up.”

Ellen chuckled, a watery sound through her happy tears. “I’m sorry, Penny, I was so excited I forgot.”

“You go ahead,” Blake told me. “And my mother and I will have a talk.”

Nodding, I set off down the hall. Thank god I wouldn’t have to be here when he told his mother the truth. The joy in her eyes was almost painful to behold.

As I did my best to rinse the sticky strawberry lemonade off my shirt in the largest, most ornate bathroom I’ve ever been in, I thought about what Ellen had said about Zoe looking like Blake. All babies did look similar to a certain extent, but I’d never noticed any similarity. I suppose Ellen had seen what she wanted to see. She didn’t have the best relationship with her son, so she saw Zoe as a fresh start. It was a shame it wasn’t true—she seemed to be really trying. Despite the way she’d treated Blake when she was a young trophy wife, she seemed to genuinely want to be close to him now.

There was a knock at the door and a woman who introduced herself as a housekeeper handed me a pale coral-colored shirt. Gratefully discarding my damp tee shirt, I pulled the soft fabric over my head. It was cashmere and had a scoop neck. When I looked in the mirror, it fit me perfectly. Moreover, if you ignored my jeans, it made me look almost like I belonged here in this fancy house. Not completely, but almost.

Since I didn’t know how much time Blake needed, I dawdled, fixing my hair, doing my best to freshen up. I hadn’t even grabbed my purse out of the car, so I didn’t have any makeup. Still, I did what I could.

When I figured enough time had passed, I headed out. Even though I knew she was in good hands, I was eager to see Zoe again. Plus, she’d need to nurse again soon.

No one was in the entryway anymore, but I followed a huge staircase up, hearing voices as I went. I finally found Blake and Ellen in a beautifully decorated sitting room. It was almost as large as Blake’s office, but the sofa Ellen was sitting on as she bounced Zoe on her knee looked comfy enough.

Ellen smiled as I neared. “That shirt looks lovely on you, my dear.” She was happy. She was still happy. Uh-oh.

Turning, I cocked an eyebrow at Blake and caught him in the act of checking out the cashmere shirt, as well. He seemed to like the way it looked too, judging by the appreciative look on his face. But now was not the time.

I cleared my throat, and his eyes shot to my face. His expression changed as he caught my silent question. He shrugged helplessly, tilting his head toward his blissfully joyful mother.

Oh my god. He hadn’t told her? But he had to. She had to know. It was going to crush her, but she couldn’t go on believing that Zoe was her flesh and blood. This had gone on too long already.

Steeling myself, I sat down on the sofa. “Mrs. Hollister, we need to talk.”

“Yes, we do. And please, call me Ellen.” Her smile radiated warmth as she turned to me. “I want to know everything. When was she born? How much did she weigh? Does she sleep through the night? Tell me everything.”

Her eyes were watery as she hugged my little girl to her again. The woman was so palpably happy. When was the last time I’d made anyone that happy?

I was beginning to see why Blake was having a hard time telling her the truth.