Chapter 2
I stood on the front steps of the colonial house with my single duffle bag, feeling like an imposter.
Marcus opened the door before I could knock. "You're early."
"I didn't want to be late on my first day of... whatever this is."
He stepped aside to let me in. Family photos lined the walls—mostly Tommy at various ages, and a stunning brunette woman who had to be Elena.
"That's Elena," Marcus said, following my gaze. "Tommy's mother."
"She's beautiful." I studied the photos. Elena in medical scrubs, Elena at graduation, Elena holding baby Tommy. "A doctor?"
"Trauma surgeon. She's with Doctors Without Borders now."
Of course she's gorgeous and saves lives. I serve coffee and wipe down tables. What was he thinking choosing me as her replacement?
"Tommy!" Marcus called upstairs. "Rose is here!"
No response.
"He's probably playing video games," Marcus said. "Come on, I'll show you around."
The house tour felt surreal. Marcus showed me the master bedroom—"This is yours now"—and the guest room where he'd moved his belongings. The kitchen was something out of a magazine, all granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.
"I don't really cook," Marcus admitted. "Mrs. Rodriguez comes three times a week for groceries and cleaning. She's... discreet about our arrangement."
"Meaning?"
"She thinks we're married. Legitimately married."
I was attempting to figure out the espresso machine when Tommy appeared in the doorway. He watched me struggle with the various buttons and settings.
"You don't know how to use it," he said. Not a question.
"I'm more of an instant coffee person," I admitted.
"Mom knew how to use it. She made cappuccinos every morning before work."
I felt the comparison hit like a slap. "I'm sure she did."
Tommy climbed onto a barstool and watched me give up on the machine. "Are you Dad's girlfriend now?"
How do I answer that? I can't tell him his father bought me like a business transaction.
"I'm... here to help out. With you, with the house."
"Like a nanny?"
"More like a friend."
Tommy considered this. "My last nanny was mean. She only let me watch educational TV."
"What do you like to watch?"
"Marvel movies. Dad says they're too violent."
I grinned. "Your dad sounds like a responsible parent. But maybe we could find some good shows that aren't too educational."
For the first time, Tommy almost smiled. "Really?"
"Really. But first, want to help me make lunch? Something that doesn't involve that scary machine?"
Tommy slid off the stool. "I know where Dad keeps the sandwich stuff."
We worked together making sandwiches, Tommy chattering about school. I found myself relaxing—kids were kids, whether their parents were wealthy or not.
"Rose?" Tommy said as we sat down to eat. "Are you going to leave like Mom did?"
The question hit me unexpectedly. "Tommy, I—"
"She said she'd be back for my birthday. That was two years ago."
This poor kid. No wonder Marcus needs stability for him.
"Tommy, I can't promise what the future holds. But I'm here now, and I plan to be here for a while."
"How long is a while?"
"Long enough to teach you how to make really good sandwiches."
Tommy took a bite and nodded approvingly. "Better than Dad's."
"Just follow my lead," Marcus murmured as we approached the neighbors' backyard. "We've been together for a few months, things are getting serious."
I wore one of the dresses Marcus had bought me—I'd protested, but he'd insisted I needed "appropriate attire" for these events. It fit perfectly and probably cost more than my monthly rent.
"Marcus! There you are!" A woman in her fifties hurried over with a martini in her hand. "And you must be Rose. I'm Beverly Henderson."
"Nice to meet you," I said, accepting Beverly's enthusiastic hug.
"We were so excited when Marcus told us he was seeing someone. After Elena—well, we weren't sure he'd ever move on."
Marcus's hand found my lower back, a gesture that felt both protective and possessive. "Rose makes it easy."
"How long have you two been together?" asked Beverly's husband, Jim.
"Four months," Marcus answered smoothly.
I tried to look naturally affectionate while my skin tingled where Marcus was touching me. "It feels longer," I said, which wasn't entirely a lie.
Tommy ran up to us, grass stains on his polo shirt. "Rose, can I have a soda?"
"Ask your dad," I said automatically.
"She's already got the mom voice down," Beverly laughed. "You're a natural, dear."
Natural at lying, apparently. These people think I'm going to be their new neighbor, Tommy's new mother. What happens when this all falls apart?
"Tommy, come here," called Dave Patterson, Marcus's business partner. "Meet my kids."
As Tommy ran off, Dave approached us. "Good to see you settling down, Marcus. The military contract board likes family men. Shows stability."
I felt Marcus tense beside me. So that was part of it—his business needed him to appear settled and reliable.
"Rose brings out the best in me," Marcus said, his voice carefully neutral.
"I can see that. Elena was brilliant, of course, but she was never really... domestic. Rose seems more grounded."
I was cleaning up from dinner—I'd made arroz con pollo, one of Danny's favorites—when Marcus came downstairs in sweatpants and a t-shirt. He looked younger, less intimidating without the business attire.
"Smells good down here," he said. "Reminds me of something Elena used to make."
My hands stilled on the dishes. "This was my husband's favorite meal."
"Husband?" Marcus opened the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. "You're married?"
"Was. Widowed." I resumed washing dishes, not looking at him. "He died three years ago. Afghanistan."
Marcus was quiet for so long that I finally turned around. He was staring at me with an expression I couldn't read.
"Danny Martinez," he finally said. "Staff Sergeant, 3rd Infantry Division."
My hands went numb. "You knew Danny?"
"We served together. Two tours." Marcus set down his beer. "He talked about you and Maya all the time. How much he missed you."
This can't be a coincidence. He chose me because I was Danny's widow. Because I'd understand military life, military sacrifice.
"Is that why you chose me? Because of Danny?"
Marcus met my eyes. "Partly. You understand what military families go through. The deployments, the uncertainty."
"What happened to Elena?"
"She couldn't handle it. The long hours, the travel, the constant worry about contracts and government work. She wanted a normal life." Marcus's voice was matter-of-fact, but I heard the hurt underneath. "She said she felt like she was living in the shadow of my career."
"And you think I won't feel that way?"
"I think you understand sacrifice. You've already proven that."
I dried my hands on a dishtowel. "What if you're wrong? What if I can't handle this either?"
"Then we'll deal with that when it happens."
I sat on the king-sized bed—Elena's bed—and looked around the room. Everything was neutral and expensive, like a hotel suite. I'd found Elena's medical journals in the nightstand drawer, filled with detailed surgical notes and patient observations.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
"Rose?" Tommy's voice came through the door. "Are you awake?"