Page 20 of Just a Little Crush

A part of me felt guilty for coercing Stevie into this mess that was currently my life, but my options were limited and I wasn’t taking any chances with Owen’s well-being. There was no doubt in my mind that I’d be dealing with Alyssa’s scrutiny over the next two months, that she’d try to find any way to tarnish my reputation and she wouldn’t have hesitated to drag Stevie into the fray, too.

The truth was, if I hadn’t claimed Stevie as my girlfriend, Alyssa would have painted a very sordid picture for her attorney of what she’d walked in on. She wouldn’t think twice about maligning Stevie’s character in the worst ways in order to further her own agenda, and the only way to protect Stevie from my ex’s malicious motives was to make her a part of my life.

Right now, with the custody case looming over me, Stevie being my serious girlfriend gaveusmore credibility than if she’d just been a one-night stand.

I know what I was asking of her was a lot—I’d seen her reluctance to get involved—but I had every intention of making it worth her while and judging by her reaction to the fifty grand I intended to pay her, I’d accomplished that goal. I got the impression she didn’t have much, and if that money eased her finances a bit in exchange for her being a part of mine and Owen’s life for the next couple months, then it was a win-win situation in my opinion.

Because Stevie had been so hesitant to accept my proposal, I’d told her to think of our agreement as a business deal, a temporary job, and I definitely regretted phrasing our situation that way when my attraction to Stevie was far more than just a fleeting proposition. As much as this fake relationship between us was for show, I truly liked the idea of spending more time with her, and now I had the chance to do so legitimately.

The circumstances weren’t ideal, and as stressful as the predicament was with Alyssa, I wasn’t mad about Stevie being a more integrated part of my life. In fact, shockingly, I welcomed it. She was the only woman since my divorce that had captured my attention so thoroughly and made me want to open myself up to the possibilities of…something more with someone again. And if this situation gave me the opportunity to explore that option with Stevie, then I was willing to take the risk, no matter how complicated it might get.

“Does your sister live close by?” Stevie asked, breaking the silence between us and surprising me with her random question. “She was at your place less than ten minutes after you’d called her to watch Owen.”

I smiled when I remembered Cara’s startled reaction to finding Stevie at my apartment when she’d arrived earlier. And her surprise when I told her that I was seeing Stevie exclusively. I didn’t explain the situation to Cara. I felt it was best, and easiest, to let her believe we were really a couple. There were a few people who were going to have to be privy to the truth—Stevie’s sister, Valerie, Raven, and even my partner at work, Beck Daniels—but the less who knew we were perpetuating a lie, the better.

I continued to follow the directions to Stevie’s place via the car’s navigation system, glad to have her talking again about something other than Alyssa, or our arrangement. “She actually lives in the building in one of the apartments I own.”

“Oneof the apartments you own?” she asked incredulously.

I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the road. “I’m a realtor. I sellandbuy properties for investment purposes. I own six other apartments other than my own at The Cortland and lease them out,” I explained. “After everything that happened between Lance and Raven last year, and my mother siding with my brother during his trial when he’d clearly assaulted Raven, Cara wanted out from under my mother’s thumb. She’s so much younger than Raven and me, but she’s a good kid, and the only way Cara could move out was if I helped her, since my mother refused to support her in any way.”

The muscles across my shoulders tightened as I spoke, because every time I thought about my mother’s refusal to assist Cara, it made me furious. I knew I was doing the right thing by providing a place for her to live, but it didn’t erase the sting of how my mother selectively treated me, Raven, and Cara, while putting Lance on a pedestal. Despite him being in prison. It was such a fucked-up situation.

“You’re a good brother,” Stevie said, her voice breaking through my thoughts, soft and sincere. “To both Raven and Cara.”

“I try to be,” I said as I drove the car over the Queensboro Bridge.

Stevie rested her head against the back of the leather seat and smiled at me. “Raven mentioned Cara is attending the Fashion Institute of Technology.”

“She is, which makes living at The Cortland convenient since the institute is only ten minutes away. That, and I like being able to keep an eye on her.” I switched lanes to maneuver around a slower vehicle. “And having her close by is nice because, like today, I can call her up and have her watch Owen when I can’t get my regular sitter at the last minute. She adores Owen, and he loves her too.”

“It’s nice that she’s taking him out to the waterfront and for an ice cream,” Stevie said, glancing back out the window with a sigh. “It’s a beautiful day.”

I agreed. “I’ll probably meet up with them after I drop you off.”

Even as I said the words, I wished she were coming along and spending the afternoon with us. I thought about asking, but considering what I’d already roped Stevie into, I didn’t want to press my luck. Besides, she undoubtedly needed time to decompress after this morning’s ambush with Alyssa.

“I do have a question for you,” she said when another comfortable stretch of silence passed between us. “I saw the concerned look on your face this morning when Owen told you about Alyssa not feeling well this past week and him staying with her parents. Do you worry about her relapsing?”

“I’d be lying if I didn’t say the thought wasn’t in the back of my mind. But I do know she’s prone to getting migraines, or so she says, so I can’t jump to those conclusions. Not without evidence,” I said, even though it was difficultnotto make those assumptions. “But yes…it’s concerning because I’m not sure how closely her parents regulate her. They had a difficult time facing the truth that she had an addiction problem to begin with, and they think she’s fine just because she went to rehab and completed the treatment program, but there’s always the chance of her falling back into addiction.”

The navigation had me turning down a street that made me frown. For the most part, Elmhurst, Queens, wasn’t a bad place to live. As a realtor, I knew it was solidly middle class with some decent gentrified areas, but it was the outer lying areas of the community where we currently were that I found questionable and concerning.

“That’s my place, right there,” she pointed out. “You can drop me off at the curb.”

My gut twisted with unease as I slowed the car as we approached an older brick apartment building and I slid into a vacant spot between two beat-up, unkempt cars. The exterior of where Stevie lived wasn’t well maintained, nor was the general neighborhood. The area was run-down, the buildings and homes neglected and weathered.

As soon as I parked, she started to open her door to get out. “Thank you for the ride—”

I caught her wrist to stop her before she could take off, and she glanced at me in surprise.

“I’m not justdropping you off,” I insisted, my tone as stern as my stare. “I’ll walk you to your apartment.”

She had the audacity to roll her eyes at me. “For crying out loud, Caleb, I’ve lived here for three years. I know it’s not the greatest neighborhood, but it’s broad daylight and I’ll be fine. It’s better than when I arrive home after a night shift at the bar, but that’s why I carry pepper spray.”

My jaw clenched. Her alone and vulnerable at night wasn’t something I wanted to consider. “There isn’t even a security door leading into the complex to keep anyone out,” I said, then scowled, my defenses flaring as I watched a group of twenty-something-year-old men walk out from the park next to her complex, a breeding ground for crime and drug deals.

“I’m walking you to your door,” I all but growled.

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