The House Mate Read online

  Addison

  Light streamed into the room and I blinked, rolling over to grab my phone from the nightstand beside me. Clicking it on, I glanced at the time and gasped.

  “Shit.” I jumped from the bed and rushed to the baby’s room, my hands already outstretched to soothe whatever tears were surely waiting for me.

  Why had the baby monitor stopped working? And why hadn’t Max woken me up before he left? He was already long gone—had probably left an hour ago, which meant Dylan was completely unattended and it was entirely my fault. If she was hurt or hungry . . .

  I pushed open the door to find Dylan standing at the bars of her crib, gurgling happily, and I let out a sigh of relief.

  “Thank God,” I breathed, moving closer to scoop her into my arms. As I approached, I noticed something else—a little piece of paper, the same shade of white as the crib, with tiny, scrawled words in cramped lettering.

  Addison—

  Sorry I missed you. The baby got up at the crack of dawn so we had a daddy/daughter early morning. She’s fed and changed and needed a few more Zs, so I figured I’d let her wake you when she was ready.

  Have a great day,

  Max

  I blinked. “Have a great day?” That was it?

  Why the hell would he get up so early with the baby when he had to work all day? Unless . . .

  I scrubbed my free hand over my face and then lifted Dylan from her crib.

  I’d overstepped last night—gotten too personal too fast. And now, of course, he was avoiding me.

  Greg had done that too. When I’d first confronted him about his proclivities in the bedroom, he’d shied away from me and barely spoken to me for a week. He’d told me that I ran over him like a steamroller, that I didn’t give him time to express himself naturally.

  Had I done that to Max too?

  Dylan strained to get down and I set her gently onto the carpet. She toddled toward the little box full of toys I’d brought for her yesterday, and I glanced around the room.

  This place alone should have been clue enough that Dylan hadn’t been living here long. Aside from the barely stocked white changing table and the matching white crib, the room was bare. The walls were white and the windows were undressed. It was more fitting for a nunnery than a nursery.

  “We’re going to have to do something about this, little lady,” I told Dylan.

  “Ball,” she responded, holding one up to show me.

  “Smart little girl.”

  I pulled her into my arms again and carried her downstairs, careful to make sure her ball was in tow, and together we started our daily routine. We made breakfast together and ate, and afterward, I built a fort for her with the spare linens in the hall closet.

  Like I had the day before, I texted pictures and messages to Max, and little gray checks appeared on my screen, letting me know he’d seen my messages and had chosen not to respond.

  Well, that was okay. After all, he hadn’t responded yesterday either.

  Still, I couldn’t shake the mental image of him grimacing when he saw my name flash on his phone screen. Like just looking at what I said—no matter what it was—was some colossal reminder of what an oversharing, prying asshole I was. And then I’d gone and made it a billion times worse by telling him the story about Greg. Max had probably felt obligated to make me feel better, hence his panty-melting declaration, but that didn’t change the fact that I’d overstepped.

  There was nothing to do about that now, so Dylan and I went on with our day, playing and cleaning and laughing until the doorbell rang at three in the afternoon.

  I frowned, wondering if Max might be expecting a package, but when I made it to the door, I found a tall, leggy woman grinning at me. She was in a gray business suit that perfectly matched the color of her eyes and set off the bright red of her hair.

  I sucked in my cheeks, uncomfortably aware of the fact that Dylan and I had deemed today a pajama day.

  “Hello,” I said. “How can I help you?”

  “Oh, hi.” Her voice was just as chipper as her smile, but something about it sounded too shrill and wrong—almost like she’d had to rehearse what it sounded like to be polite. She took a step inside the house and I backed away, somewhat at a loss as she stuck her hand out toward me.

  I accepted it and shook it, not sure what else to do.

  “I’m Tiffany, Max’s assistant. I was in the area, and Max asked me to drop by and let you know he’d be working late tonight. He also wanted me to see if you all were doing all right?” She glanced over at the linen fort, which was primarily held up by the vacuum Dylan had taken to sitting on like it was a pony.

  “There’s the little angel,” she cooed, striding past me and making a beeline toward Dylan.

  The baby’s eyes widened and she scrambled from her seat, retreating deeper into the fort.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Almost nap time. She’s a little fussy.”

  “Quite all right.” Tiffany sank onto her knees and started slapping her lap like she was inviting a puppy to play fetch. “Come here, Dylan. Come say hello.”

  Dylan didn’t move, and I cleared my throat.

  “So,” Tiffany said as she twisted to look at me. “You guys are getting along all right?”

  “Very well, thank you.” I tried hard not to grit my teeth, but this bitch was getting on my nerves now. What was I, some high-school babysitter who needed checking up on? I was a professional. Why the hell would he have this woman march in here and interrupt our routine like this without telling me she was coming?

  Exactly right.

  Whatever Max’s reasons, it wasn’t his assistant’s fault.

  I blew out a sigh, irrationally feeling hurt. Then I knelt onto the floor beside her and motioned for Dylan to come toward me. When she did, I gestured to Tiffany.

  “Dylan, will you say hello to Tiffany?” I asked.

  The baby waved a chubby fist and Tiffany caught it eagerly, shaking it like they’d just made a business deal on Shark Tank.

  “So nice to see you again, little miss,” Tiffany cooed.

  “Oh, you’ve met before?” My eyebrows inched higher. Max had said Dylan had only been here a few days before I’d been hired. But then, that would have been over the weekend, so . . . “Did Max bring her into the office?”

  Jealousy? This was new.

  “Oh yes, but we met before that too. Dylan and I go way back.” She winked at the baby. “I can never get over how cute she is. Such beautiful eyes, just like her father.” Her tone suggested she’d seen a lot more than Max’s eyes, and I struggled to remain impassive.

  “She certainly does,” I said, and Dylan scooted off my lap and crawled back into the sanctuary of her fort.

  “I can’t imagine what it’s like to live with him,” Tiffany went on, apparently not sensing what I thought was my very obvious discomfort with the subject.

  “Oh, so far it’s been easy. Maybe he’s just got his best foot forward. Should I be worried? Does he leave the seat up or is it something worse?” I said with a forced grin.

  “No, no, no. He’s just an exacting kind of man, you know? A lot of successful businessmen like him are. Plus the military training. His housekeeper must have almost nothing to do.”

  I remained silent, not wanting to divulge the utter chaos I’d walked into the day before, slightly mollified that Miss Tiffany didn’t know as much as she thought she did. “Yes, he mentioned the Army.”

  “Yup, he was a Ranger. Quite the accomplishment.” She said this as though she had given him the title herself.

  “Oh, how interesting. You’d never know it,” I said.

  “Unless you look at his tattoos. But you probably haven’t seen the one on his back,” Tiffany said with a wink, and I feigned a smile in return.

  “Right. Well, I do appreciate you stopping by and checking on us. We’re going to get ready for naptime, but you can let him know that we’re all just fine here. I hope he doesn’t have to work too long.”

/>   Tiffany sighed. “A workaholic. Another fault, I’m afraid. But yes, I’ll tell him you’re good. You’re sure you don’t need anything at all?”

  I glanced at Dylan and tilted my mouth to the side. In truth, I’d been hoping to talk to him about the nursery over dinner, but if he wasn’t coming home . . .

  “Well, we had talked about me sprucing up the baby’s room a little. Can you have him call me about that?”

  Tiffany cut in with a tight laugh. “Oh, you should definitely go. Do you need a credit card?” She rifled inside her big red bag and pulled out a gold credit card.

  “Uh, thanks,” I said, taking the card.

  “And I agree with you that room could use some work. Make sure you sneak in a couple of dollies and maybe a tiara for the little princess too,” she whispered with a wink.

  I thanked her and showed her to the door. Then, when I heard her car door shut, I joined Dylan in her fort and kissed her forehead.

  Max could have sent me a message. He could have left it in his note before he’d left for work.

  But no, he’d sent that woman here to check on me. A sliver of annoyance curled itself around my growing self-doubt, and I scooped up the baby and carried her upstairs.

  “Come on, Dylan. After your nap, we’re going to the hit the town for some retail therapy.”

  Chapter Nine

  Max

  When I pulled up to the house, Addison’s sporty red Maxima was gone and there were no lights shining through the windows.

  I checked my phone, thinking maybe I’d missed a message, but the screen held no notifications except for a reminder that Tiffany had sent for a meeting next week.

  Quickly, I dialed Addison and stepped inside the house, calling out for her and Dylan a few times before I finally made my way up to the nursery. It was empty and dark, just like everywhere else.

  I called her phone again. And then a third time, still with no answer.

  “It’s probably fine,” I mumbled under my breath, but it didn’t stop my heart from pounding. My blood thundered in my ears as I scrolled through my contacts again, stopping when I reached Tiffany’s number.

  I dialed her, listening to the agonizing ring, and then it clicked to life.

  “Hey there,” she said.

  “Hey, this is a weird question, but Addison didn’t call you, did she?” I asked.

  There was a pause. “Addison? Your nanny?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No. Why? What’s going on?” Tiffany asked. There was a clatter of noise in the background, and I felt guilty for interrupting whatever she was doing, but I pressed on.

  “I just came home and nobody’s here. I didn’t know if she might have left a message with you at the office and you forgot to tell me.”

  “Do you want me to come over and keep you company? Maybe try to help call around?” she asked.

  “No, I’ve already interrupted you enough. Thanks, anyway.”

  “Keep me posted,” she said.

  I turned off the phone and stared down at it, wondering what my next move was. It was too early to call the police—and if Addison and Dylan had only run up the street for something, I’d feel like a jackass. Still, it didn’t seem like Addison not to message me.

  I opened her messages from earlier in the day, reviewing the picture of Dylan covered in applesauce, and another of the blanket fort they’d made, but none of the messages hinted that they were heading out later.

  Why wouldn’t Addison have told me where she was going? Surely, she knew that I’d be worried.

  Maybe she’d called my mother? Or my father? I scrolled to their numbers, my thumb hovering over Dial when headlights shone through the front bay windows.

  I stepped onto the porch, my pulse still hammering, to see Addison pulling Dylan from her car seat, her free hand laden with bags of all different colors and sizes.

  “Let me help.”

  Addison shot me a strained smile. “Thanks.”

  I rushed over, took Dylan from her, and scooped up some bags, embarrassed by the rush of relief I felt when the baby was finally in my arms again. She snuggled close, burying her face into my neck. Everything was all right. Dylan was fine, and Addison was fine. All was right with the world.

  So then why was my stomach still churning?

  Afraid to speak for fear of what might come out of my mouth, I turned and carried Dylan inside and set the bags down, then took her up to her room. After quickly changing her into her footie pajamas, I settled her in her crib. She was clearly exhausted because she lay down without complaint. I read her a book and within minutes, her eyelids drooped and closed.

  For a long moment, I stood by her crib and stared at her. Parenthood was a real motherfucker sometimes. There had been no sign of a struggle. No ransom note or reason for panic. But my hands were still clammy with icy fear, and my fury was mounting.

  I knew Addison cared for Dylan, but who did she think she was, leaving the house without a note or even a quick text to let me know they wouldn’t be here when I got home? I still couldn’t shake the knot in my gut, and there was only one person to blame.

  I could hear Addison bustling around downstairs, and I balled my fists at my sides and took the stairs two at a time to find her standing in the middle of the living room, pulling items from the multicolored bags.

  “Where the hell were you?” I hadn’t made it all the way down the steps yet, and for a second I worried the volume and harshness of my tone would wake the baby.

  Addison blinked up at me with wide, confused eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, where the hell were you? It’s eight o’clock. That’s past Dylan’s bedtime. I get home and find an empty house. No message, no note. What the hell was I supposed to think?”

  “W-we went shopping,” she stuttered. “I went to get things for the baby’s room like we talked about last night, but then it was late and Dylan was hungry, so we went on a dinner date. I didn’t expect to be gone for so long.”

  My heart softened a little at the idea of the two of them sitting at dinner together, enjoying themselves, but that did nothing to dissolve the memory of the very real terror and dread she’d left me to face.

  “I didn’t know you’d be going today.”

  “I mentioned it to Tiffany when she stopped by earlier. I thought she’d tell you once she got back to the office.”

  I opened my mouth again, debating what to say next, but Addison ducked her head and skirted past me, back out the front door. She left it open behind her, and I stared into space until she reappeared with yet another bag in her hand.

  “I don’t know if you like Italian, but I ordered something for you and had them pack it up just in case you hadn’t had dinner. It’s probably still warm.”

  I took the bag and looked inside to find spaghetti and meatballs in a clear container, waiting for me.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but there’s a little bite taken out of one of your meatballs. Dylan was curious.” Addison chewed on her bottom lip, and my tense muscles loosened.

  It was thoughtful of her to have gotten this for me, even if she’d been careless about keeping me informed. It was a gesture she hadn’t had to make, but she’d done it anyway. And her bond with Dylan was so clear to see already. That was the important thing. Forgetting to tell me her plans had been an honest mistake, and one I was sure she wouldn’t repeat.

  “Make sure to send me a text if you’re going to leave next time, okay?” I let out a little sigh, then walked over to examine what she’d picked out for Dylan’s room. It was like her Pinterest board come to life—stacks of books, and a box with a light gray bookcase inside. And a framed Bob Dylan album too.

  It must have taken her hours to find it all, and my overreaction seemed all the more stark to me. Nice job, dickhead.

  “I’m sorry for freaking out,” I said as I looked over everything. “This is all new to me, and to be honest, it scared the shit out of me.”

  “Don’t worry about i
t.” She rounded the couch to join me. “I should probably apologize too, actually. I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m pretty embarrassed about the way I behaved yesterday. I shouldn’t have told you all that stuff about me and Greg. I’m imagining that was why you decided to work late, and why I felt so compelled to get out of the house and all. Then I was too embarrassed to call you. It was just the start of a weird vibe, and I shouldn’t have said any of it.”

  I waved her off. “The only thing you have to be sorry about is that you wasted your time with that jackass to begin with. I stand by what I said. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

  Instantly, I regretted the nicety. It was like all the air had been sucked from the room, and all that remained was the reminder of what I’d said to her last night, and the mutual understanding that I could never prove what I’d said.

  She glanced away, a chocolate-brown lock falling in front of her face. I itched to reach out and tuck it behind her ear, to pull her face closer until she was only inches from me, and then . . . But that was a slippery slope, and I was already skating a little too close to the edge.

  “Did you have a good day at least?” I asked, and she looked back at me, thoughtful for a moment.

  “Yes, mostly. It was a little odd, though.”

  “Crazy at the mall?”

  She shook her head. “No, not that.”

  “Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”

  She blew out a sigh and shrugged. “I’m not sure exactly what I did wrong. I definitely would’ve texted, but Tiffany told me you were going to be home really late when she stopped by this afternoon, so I didn’t even think you’d be aware we were gone, never mind worried about Dylan. And Tiffany knew that I was going to take the baby to the mall because she offered me your credit card to use, so I’d assumed you’d authorized that.”

  “Tiffany was here?” I asked. Why the hell hadn’t she mentioned that? I thought back to the conversation. Why did she act like she had no clue where they might be? Unless Tiffany had just assumed that their outing would be a daytime one, and so she was truly at a loss about where they’d be tonight.

  “Yeah.” Addison nodded. Her lips quirked a little. “It was a little odd. She gave off a certain kind of vibe.”