Page 21 of She's the Star

“We’ll figure it out,” I say with more confidence than I feel. I wish there was something I could say to ease her worry, but she’s too smart to believe empty platitudes. “Until then, we’ll stay on your property.”

“Thank you,” she responds softly. “I should—do you want me to show you the studio?”

Strictly speaking, I don’t need a full tour of the house. She showed me around the main level and the backyard yesterday, plus Maddy’s nursery and the connected playroom, so I’ve already seen what I need to in order to do my job. But that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about where she works. “Do you have time?”

“Not much. Maybe I can just show you where it’s at? I want you to feel comfortable interrupting me if Maddy needs something. Mina’s around here somewhere, but even when I’m working, Maddy comes first.” Her words are measured, and it’s hard to tell if she’s nervous about leaving Maddy with me or just nervous about leaving Maddy in general.

“Understood.”

I scoop Maddy off the floor and follow Amber toward the back of the house.

A few minutes later, after a quick glance inside the studio, Amber leans against my forearm as she presses a kiss into Maddy’s curls. “I love you, sweet girl,” she whispers.

I dip my head like I expect her to drop a kiss into my hair, too.

She pulls away from Maddy, and the brush of cool air against my arm alerts me to the fact that I’m being ridiculous. As subtly as I can, I raise my chin and try to act normal. I must succeed, because she smiles and says, “I’ll see you guys between rehearsals.”

“Sounds good. Hope it goes smoothly.” Fortunately, my voice sounds ordinary.

I wave awkwardly, and then Maddy and I walk through the house and into the backyard. The air is already warm and sticky. We bypass the pool and follow a narrow path through the foliage. With every step I take, I try to brush off imagining her kissing my forehead.

It doesn’t take long for us to get to the play area that’s tucked against the western wall. Surrounded by a smaller fence, it has a jungle gym, a couple of slides, and two swings. Maddy isn’t mobile enough to enjoy anything other than the baby swing, so I strap her in and pull her feet before letting her drop. She giggles happily as drool trickles down her chin.

I occupy myself by snapping a few pictures of her with my phone. I send them to Amber and then immediately wonder if I’m allowed to do that. She must take pictures of her daughter, but that doesn’t mean she wants me to. She’s rightfully worried about privacy, and I respect her concern.

I get sick of pushing well before Maddy gets sick of swinging. Since it’s my first day and a happy baby makes for a happy caregiver, I don’t stop until it looks like she’s about to doze off.

I unbuckle her, pick her up, and take her back to the house, where I warm up a bottle, feed her, and pop her into her crib. Without even opening her eyes, she falls into a deep sleep the moment I set her down.

I drop into the rocking chair in the corner, feeling more than a little unnerved. It’s only been a few hours, and I feel satisfied in a way I haven’t been in years. There’s something so fulfilling about taking care of children. There’s a tangible sense of accomplishment that I almost never achieved once I became headmaster. It’s a feeling I’ve been chasing, and rarely catching, since I was a teenager tasked with caring for my younger siblings and nieces and nephews.

The difference is, back then, I was never one-on-one with the same child hour after hour. I’m going to be spending a good chunk of my time with Maddy Hope-Lance, and I can already tell it’s going to be nearly impossible for me to keep a professional distance.

Amber texts me four smiley faces, so she must be fine with me taking pictures. Maddy makes a whimpering sound from her crib, and as I fly out of the chair to check on her, I can’t deny that she’s already well on her way to stealing my heart.

On Sunday, Amber is in the studio at the other end of the house while Maddy and I lounge on the playroom floor. It rained earlier, so we’ve been hanging inside while the sun and heat dry the puddles.

We steadily make our way through the board books on the bottom shelf of the enormous bookcase in the corner. It’s hard to tell if Maddy’s happy because she enjoys listening to me read, or because she enjoys chewing on cardboard. Either way, I pick up another book and use my best hippopotamus voice to start reading.

About twenty-five books later, she starts yawning and rubbing her eyes, so I warm up her bottle, feed her, and rock her until she’s asleep. Then, I carefully cross into the nursery, pop her into her crib, pull the door mostly closed, and quietly reshelve the books in the playroom.

“Hello, Maddy girl,” a voice booms from the hallway.

I glance up at the exact moment Teddy Lance steps into the doorway of the playroom. I’m shocked to see him, although I know I shouldn’t be, since Maddy is his daughter.

He looks exactly the same as he does on the covers of magazines. No photoshopping necessary for his perfectly symmetrical features, striking green eyes, or artfully disheveled hair.

I’ve met loads of celebrities, and they’re rarely as picture-perfect in person as they appear on camera, but somehow both Teddy and Amber are even more attractive in real life. Maybe that’s why they fell in love.

“Shhhh.” I gesture toward the cracked door of the nursery. “Maddy’s sleeping.”

Teddy’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

Mina suddenly appears behind him and pulls him out of the doorway. I grab the monitor, follow them into the hallway, and shut the playroom door quietly.

“Teddy,” Mina says with a brittle smile. “What are you doing here? We didn’t expect you until later.”

“Who’s this?” he asks, eyeing me and not answering her question.

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