Hmm. They were those types.
I followed her to her bedroom, which was probably Maisie’s dream come true. It had a bed with a canopy, a tent that looked like a castle, and lots of princesses and fairies that Maisie liked.
“Wow, this is quite a room,” I said.
“Mommy said I could do it anyway I wanted.”
“It looks great.” I put her bag on the bed.
“I’m hungry and thirsty.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be making myself at home in Veronica and Leo’s apartment, but it was Maisi
e’s home too, and I was there taking care of her, so I followed her to the kitchen.
“What do you want?” I asked as I entered the large kitchen with granite counters and restaurant grade appliances.
“Cookies and milk.”
I quirked a brow. “Does your dad know you eat that here?”
“Mommy says what daddy doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
Hmm. Not the best message, and yet, I’d snuck her a few sweets in the past.
Maisie climbed up onto a stool in front of the breakfast bar as I hunted for cookies and a glass for milk. I found a packet of two small gourmet-looking chocolate chip cookies, and poured her a juice glass filled with milk, setting them in front of her.
On the wall next to the breakfast bar, there was a little phone station, above which was a bulletin board. On it, a drawing Maisie had made was pinned. I was glad to see some evidence of Maisie in the home.
Below it was a pile of envelopes and other papers. I hadn’t meant to snoop, but I noticed Maisie’s birth certificate underneath what looked like a passport.
I picked up the passport and opened it to Maisie’s sweet face. “What’s this?”
“That’s the picture my mommy took me to get,” Maisie said with a mouth full of cookie.
I frowned, thinking this didn’t seem right, and yet Veronica was Maisie’s mother. She had every right to have a birth certificate and passport. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Mmm, I don’t know. Papa Leo goes away a lot, and mommy doesn’t like to be left by herself. She says they should move to Paris so she doesn’t have to miss him. Where’s Paris?”
“That’s in France.” Was Veronica having second thoughts, or was this passport an indication she wanted to take Maisie to Paris? Dylan would never allow that, so it didn’t make sense why she’d have this. She had to know he’d nix the idea. Unless she had sole custody, then she could do what she wanted and Dylan wouldn’t have any say.
“Where’s that?” Maisie asked.
“It’s another country across the ocean.” I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of the passport and then pulled up a picture of France to show Maisie. “They speak French there.”
“Marie speaks French.”
“Who is Marie?” And why hadn’t I heard of her?
“She takes care of me sometimes when Mommy and Papa Leo go out. Like you do.”
My heart thunked in my chest at the reminder of who and what I was.
I heard a door open, and then voices.
“I’ll see if that’s your mom,” I said to Maisie. I peeked out of the kitchen towards the front door. Leo, along with a young woman, entered the apartment.
I couldn’t understand what they were saying as it appeared to be in French, but it wasn’t hard to miss the fact that Leo and the woman were more than friendly as his hand was on her ass and she was grinding her body against his.