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As it was, the extra money he was giving her to help take care of Wyatt was coming in handy. Especially when she received the bill from the clinic for his last checkup. Did these people think she was asking for health care for the rich and famous? All she wanted was for her son to be up-to-date on his well-baby exams and vaccinations.
In the bedroom, she heard a squeal from the baby and knew he’d be wanting his breakfast bottle. She tiptoed around the corner and he grinned at her from the baby bed. She’d had no choice but to put his bed in her bedroom.
“Good morning, sweet cheeks, how are you? I bet you’re soaking wet,” she said with a smile.
He was the absolute best baby, his legs kicking, his hands flailing as he grinned up at her and squealed. Most definitely, he was going to be a talker.
“Let’s get you changed and then I’ll heat up your bottle,” she said coming in to remove his diaper.
A noise interrupted her concentration and she frowned. It sounded like someone was climbing up the side of the building.
Glancing up, she saw a man on a ladder with a camera dangling around his neck. The creep was trying to get a picture of Wyatt.
Rushing over to the window, she closed the blinds and made certain the window was locked. She was tempted to open the window and give the man a mighty push, but that would be cruel.
Shaking, she ran to the front of the apartment and gazed outside. She shouted into the parking lot. “I’m calling the police. Do you hear me? I better see your butt in your car in the next two minutes. My cell phone is in my hand and I’m timing you.”
A man came scurrying around the side of the building and he flipped her off. “I’m just doing my job, lady. A picture of Blake Landry’s baby is worth a lot of money.”
“He’s not Blake’s baby,” she screamed at him. “You’ve got the wrong woman. You’ve got one minute left.”
“Then why is he buying you a fancy car?”
Geez, she should have known this was going to be a problem.
Just then Mrs. Anderson stepped outside her apartment in her morning moo moo, a cigarette dangling from between her fingers. “What’s the problem?”
“That’s my business, not yours,” she screamed at him. “Thirty seconds.”
Cristina watched as the man drove out of the parking lot.
“That man thinks that Wyatt is Blake Landry’s son. We’re friends. Nothing more,” she said.
Mrs. Anderson flicked her cigarette and laughed. “If Wyatt was his son, you’d be receiving a windfall of cash. And you say he’s not?”
“No,” Cristina said, an eerie feeling spiraling down her spine. Was Mrs. Anderson the one who wrote the letter to Blake?
The woman puffed on her cigarette, glancing at her. “The man is handsome as sin. My nephew was staying with me back about eighteen months ago because he was homeless. He recognized him going up the stairs with you about midnight. We kept waiting for him to leave.”
The woman had been spying on her.
“Nine months later, you had that sweet baby,” she said. “Cruz just knew the baby was that Landry fella’s. But you’re saying he’s not.”
“No, and it’s none of your business who Wyatt’s father is,” she said feeling really nervous. But she didn’t want to come right out and ask her if she’d written the letter because that seemed like such a huge clue.
The woman laughed. “No need to get defensive. Believe me, I had two kids I didn’t know who the daddy was.”
Oh dear God, she’d thought her a sweet grandmotherly type. She’d even considered asking her to watch Wyatt when her mother couldn’t, but didn’t want her son to breathe in cigarette smoke. Now that wasn’t going to happen. Even Cristina’s mother liked her. Well, wait until she heard this piece of gossip.
She tossed the cigarette on the ground and ground it out beneath the heel of her slipper. “I better get back inside. Wanted to check out and see what kind of drama was going down.”
Maybe if she told her what happened, then Mrs. Anderson would realize just how dangerous a game she was playing.
“The man used a ladder to crawl up the side of the building and was trying to take pictures of Wyatt through the window. He’s just lucky I didn’t open the window and push his ladder out of the way.”
The woman cackled. “Very deserving. So when is Wyatt’s father coming back around?”
Somehow she had to convince her that Blake was not Wyatt’s father.
