Page 8 of One Little Mistake

I glance over at the stranger—petite, young, wearing an expensive fur coat and high-heeled boots. She fits right in with this luxury high-rise.

Max always did have a thing for luxury, so I’m not even surprised he chose a place like this.

“Well, unless you’ve got a magic lockpick, I don’t think you can help. The lock’s completely jammed,” I say, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm in my tone. I plop down on top of my suitcase and sigh in defeat.

“And you are…?” the blonde asks, narrowing her eyes and giving me a slow once-over.

“My boyfriend’s out at sea. He left me the keys, and I’ve been trying to open the door for half an hour now. I think the lock’s stuck. I should probably call a locksmith, but my phone’s dead.”

I don’t even know why I’m telling her all this. Maybe so she doesn’t think I’m some kind of burglar.

“You’re Max’s girlfriend?” she asks suddenly.

Now it’s my turn to eye her suspiciously.

I’m pretty sure my thoughts show clearly on my face, because in the next moment she throws up her hands and smiles.

“No, no, I’m just his neighbor. Nothing like that. He actually mentioned you’d be coming, but I think he said you werestopping by to pick up your things, not the other way around,” she adds, frowning at the bags surrounding me.

“Must’ve been a mix-up,” I shrug. “Not that it matters if I can’t even get in. Guess I’ll stay at a hotel tonight. Maybe he gave me the wrong keys. Could I borrow your phone? I need to call a cab.”

“Wait a sec—Max gave me a spare set of keys and said you might need help getting in. Didn’t he tell you?”

“That’s weird. Then why did he ask his friend to give me the keys?” I murmur, glancing at the floor.

Last time we messaged, the connection was so bad it took ten minutes for him to download the photo of the pregnancy test.

Maybe not all his messages came through?

She thinks for a moment, then leaves me alone in the hallway and returns a few minutes later. She inserts the key into the lock—and to my surprise, it turns on the first try.

She pushes the handle and opens the door with a victorious smile.

“Well then,” I raise an eyebrow in surprise. “Thanks. Good thing we ran into each other.”

“So… are you staying long?” she asks casually.

“Hopefully forever. I’m Erin.”

I grab the handle of my suitcase and roll it into the dark hallway.

“Vivienne,” she says after a pause, watching me carry in two duffel bags and a blooming potted orchid. “If you need anything, come by—I live next door.”

“Thanks for the help. Really. Otherwise, I might’ve been living in that hallway for the next six months.”

“Max probably just changed the locks after moving in,” she adds, nodding toward the keys still lying on the floor.

“Maybe. Anyway, thanks again, and good night,” I smile, close the door behind me… and still can’t believe my luck.

The first thing I do is pull a phone charger out of my purse, and it feels like an eternity passes before the screen finally lights up with a wallpaper of a deep blue ocean.

“I made it. Got here fine,” I text Max, and while I wait for a reply, I start looking around the apartment.

Open-concept kitchen and two rooms. One is spacious and bright, with a huge bed in the center. The other is smaller, set up as a workspace, with a tall bookshelf lining one wall.

Knowing Max, I can guess he had nothing to do with the interior design—because I can’t even picture him sitting at a desk with a pen in hand. Unless it’s to play another computer game.

Maybe someday we’ll turn that room into a nursery, though it’d be a shame to lose such a cozy space. It feels like every detail in here was chosen with care, like it was all meant specifically for this room. Even the spines of the books are arranged by color.

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