Page 39 of A Convenient Secret (Merged #3)

Lily

Celeste

I need some adult conversation.

Saar

And I need to know about Lily’s dirty talker.

Lady doesn’t tell.

Cora

Lady did ask, so lady owes us some scoop.

Not much to tell.

Saar

That sounds like there is something to tell.

Celeste

Let’s find out in person.

Cora

Can’t wait to see you.

“ T hank you very much.” I scoop the bouquet from the concierge. The elevator closes, and I carry the flowers into the living room.

Setting them on the table, I pull out the card.

From Declan

I chuckle. Efficient as ever. After our unfinished conversation last night, I guess he’s pulling out all the stops to get what he wants. I don’t think I ever got flowers before. Not from a man.

My mind wanders to my father. The thought shocks me. Not that I don’t think of him daily. Or read something about the family in the news, but I’ve learned to disassociate from that.

He never gave me flowers either. Why does it make me sad, suddenly? Jesus. I banish the sentiment.

I inhale the scent of the red roses and look into the corner. Is Declan watching me? Does he know the bouquet was delivered?

My phone pings.

Declan

You like them ?

A shiver runs through me, and I smile at the camera.

It’s not my birthday.

Declan

I know.

Why the flowers, then?

Declan

Just because.

Just because.

I’m going to tell him everything tonight. It might break us—the obligations, the implications—but as I stared at the ceiling last night, unable to sleep, another scenario occurred to me.

One where Declan will accept the reality and help us navigate it together. Because as I confessed last night, I haven’t felt lonely since I moved in with Declan. And hopefully, that means I don’t have to carry the burden alone.

If Declan is trusting me with his family, welcoming me into it, I can trust him with the drama that comes with mine.

With that cautious determination, I make my way to the bistro.

Celeste waves at me. She is moving the stroller back and forth, smiling.

Cora comes from the back. “Here you are.”

“Is Saar coming?” I whisper, leaning over the sleeping baby.

“She’s late as always,” Celeste says.

“I’m here.” Saar rushes around the tables and sits down.

“Why does it feel like we haven’t seen each other for ages?” Cora sighs.

“You’re not joining us?” I sit beside Saar.

“I need to finish prepping for tomorrow.” She swipes loose hair from her glistening cheek.

“Where is the cook you hired?” Saar looks toward the kitchen.

“He quit this morning.” Cora plops down beside Celeste, a line of concern splitting her forehead.

“Shit. I’m sorry. Can I help?” I offer.

“Stay away from my kitchen.” Cora snorts.

I act indignant. “I will have you know that I can now make sunny-side-up eggs. Okay, I can get them into the pan perfectly. I’m still mastering the scooping out of the pan part.”

“So, really, what you’re serving is a mess of runny yolk with a potentially fried egg white?” Saar smirks.

“It tastes the same.” I fight a smile. “I can call my friend at Summit Solutions and see if they can source you a new one quickly.”

“I can’t afford to pay for a fancy concierge service. Or a chef from their database.” Cora waves at Sanjay, her server, circling her finger above our table. He nods and starts prepping our coffees, already familiar with our usuals.

“It would be my treat. I broke enough dishes here.” I shrug.

“Look at you. I didn’t know the nanny position was so lucrative,” Cora teases.

Shit. I don’t want to tell them I took Declan’s ten thousand. The money sits in my account, so this would be a good cause. I was going to donate it, anyway.

“Declan pays a retainer he hardly uses, so really it’s paid for already.” I turn to coo over the baby, because talking about Declan makes me feel hot all over.

When you first answered the fucking phone. It was your voice.

He was into my voice as much as I was into his. How is this my life?

“Talking about Declan, is he the dirty talker?” Saar asks, and I literally stop breathing.

“What?” Cora laughs.

I swallow. I shake the stroller, or rather my hands shake, rattling the stroller. I desperately try to remember how to breathe.

“Why would you say that? Is he the soccer dad?” Celeste looks at me, causing more heat to spread across my cheeks .

Have they known all along? Did Declan say something to his brother?

Has he decided to tell people without discussing it with me? Or finishing the conversation from last night?

I am. Not. Divorcing. You.

I turn slowly to Saar. “Yeah, why would you say that?” I go for casual, but it comes out as a squeal. Or maybe only to my panicked ears.

Saar narrows her eyes at me, like my reaction is an epiphany, but then she shrugs. “I’m joking… but have you seen the story?”

“What story?” Cora asks.

There is a story about me and Declan? Where? How public is it?

Saar pulls out her tablet, swipes through, and sets it in the middle of the table.

New nanny snatches the unattainable Declan Quinn.

I read the headline several times. It doesn’t change the meaning. It only blurs in front of my eyes, constricting my chest.

“Wow, I know I saw you, but you looked really good at the gala.” Celeste turns the tablet toward herself and scrolls through the pictures, like my appearance was the point here.

“Let me see it.” I snatch it from her .

There are several pics from the gala, and then more of me at school pickup, another one in front of Zoya’s ballet school. There are even two or three shots of the kids when we went to the park.

“This is horrible,” I whisper.

“It’s just gossip. Don’t worry about it,” Celeste says.

“Fucking vultures. And they dare to photograph the kids. I hate them.” Saar pats my back.

Jesus. The children. I’ve been so shocked and absorbed by the implication of my photographs roaming the internet, I didn’t realize the further ramifications.

Of course, everyone else sees the gossip. If they only knew how much truth is in that story.

And, of course, everyone else is outraged about the invasion of privacy. And I am, too—seeing Declan’s innocent kids all over some trashy website is disturbing. And so unfair to them.

What they don’t see is that my face is all over the internet. Everyone now knows I live in Manhattan. Everyone can track me down. But not everyone will be looking.

My family will.

“Are you okay?” Cora asks.

I shake my head. I need to talk to Declan. Zoya has a ballet recital at her ballet summer school this afternoon, but there won’t be an opportunity there. Maybe I can go to his work before that?

“Lils?” Saar urges.

“Why did they even pursue this?” I ask, as if that was relevant.

“They had pics from the gala and decided to fabricate the story around it.” Saar shrugs.

I know that. I lived that before. But this time, I can’t be discovered. I’m not ready to face my family. Not when things with Declan seem so… promising.

I can’t bring danger to his door. I need to prepare him for that first.

“There were other couples there,” I point out. It’s like finding the reason behind the piece will give me an anchor.

“Like boring married people?” Celeste rolls her eyes. “We are not clickbait anymore. Unless there is cheating.”

“Xander was there with Cora.” Again, what am I trying to prove? I must have suffered a stroke or something.

“He wasn’t looking at me like that.” She turns the tablet back to me.

The event didn’t allow photographers inside the venue, but there were plenty of them in front of it.

The first photo is of me talking to Celeste while Declan looks at me. The admiration in his eyes is undeniable. He is not ogling me. With that gaze, he is owning me. Claiming me.

Jesus. And, of course, someone snatched that one.

The burden of all the secrets crushes my lungs. I can’t do this.

“We’ve been sleeping together.” Some of the shackles dislodge from my stomach. “We don’t want people to know. Not yet.” I drop the tablet.

“So it’s, like, serious?” Celeste speaks first.

I shrug. “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. There is a lot we need to unpack first. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you… But with the kids… And with everything else… I—”

“Hey, hey.” Saar wraps her arm around my shoulder and squeezes. “You don’t owe us anything. You would have told us at some point.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about knowing Declan talks dirty.” Cora scrunches up her nose.

“Let’s pretend it was someone else.” Celeste picks up Amelie to feed her.

“Thank you for understanding. I’m such a cliché.” I chuckle humorlessly.

I try—and fail—to ignore the fact that I’m yet again not telling the whole truth. Because we’re not just lovers. He is not just my employer. We’re married.

I should have never married him. It only layers more complexity over my life, our lives, at the moment. What was I thinking ?

Not that I don’t want to be his wife. Oh my God, I do want to be his wife. I need to talk to him and explain everything. With these pictures, my secret may be out soon, and I need to own the narrative.

“I better go. Zoya has a recital.” I stand up.

“She invited me too. Let me call my car.” Saar joins me in saying goodbyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” Celeste whispers. I put my hand on Amelie’s back, the warmth of the newborn giving me unwarranted peace.

We get into Saar’s car. “So you and Declan. Maybe we’ll be sisters-in-law.” She winks, smirking.

We already are. I smile at her, hoping my internal conundrum doesn’t show.

“The pictures…” she starts. “They put you in danger?”

The cars honk and move like molasses through the Manhattan traffic. “Let’s hope not.” I sigh.

Living in my cocoon here, the danger became distant—still lurking around the edges of my mind, but somehow removed, residing in my head only, well-guarded. A memory. A secret. But now?

The kids. Declan. What I wanted to prevent seems to come crashing in on my little bubble. Did I really believe I could disconnect from my past this easily?

“If my family finds me, it will be difficult,” I add.

“I respect that you have reasons not to share, but now my niece and nephew are involved, and Corm’s brother… They are my family, so please promise me that you will ask for help if needed.”

I reach out to squeeze her hand. “Thank you. I will explain everything soon. I trust you, Saar. I’ve been quiet because I felt that the more people know, the easier my family can find me. I wanted to protect everyone.”

“Are you in the Mafia?” she whispers, like somebody can hear us.

I snort. And it feels good to feel some mirth after the turmoil. “You really have a wild imagination. I’m sure some of my family is morally dark gray, but nothing organized.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“That was put diplomatically.” It feels good to talk to someone. “I would tell you more, but Declan deserves to know first.”

She smiles at me. “Fair enough. Before Corm, I would be offended, but now having someone who is always my first for everything, I understand.”

Is Declan my first? Will he want to stay my first when he knows who I am?

The man doesn’t want any complications. Will he accept mine?