She sidles closer to me, batting her lashes in a way that makes my skin crawl. “I was actually going to chaperone the next school field trip to the Natural History Museum. Are you going on that one, Leo?”
I clear my throat and take a very deliberate, very necessary step back. “I’ll be in a lecture hall that day, but Annie could probably go.”
Denise’s eyes flicker dismissively toward Annie, then back to me. She’s not interested in that suggestion. “Well, it’s just so amazing that you teach at a university as prestigious as Columbia. Did you know it’s one of the oldest institutions in the country, Annie? Founded in 1754. King’s College, originally.”
“Hmm,” Annie says, her lips pressing together like she’s trying very hard not to laugh. “Is that right? 1754. Wow.”
“You know,” Denise says, her head tilting at a sharp angle as she squint-stares at Annie. “You look so familiar. I’m sure we’ve never met, but there’s something about you…I never forget a face.”
The atmosphere shifts instantly. Annie’s entire body goes rigid. It’s subtle, but I’m a man who notices details for a living. I see the way her shoulders lock up, the way her smile turns into something brittle and fixed, like a mask that might crack if she moves.
“I just have one of those faces,” Annie says, her voice light but a half-octave higher than before. “People tell me I look like their cousin or their old roommate all the time.”
Denise stares at her for a beat too long, nodding slowly. Her expression is unreadable, like she’s trying to place a piece in a puzzle that doesn’t quite fit. Then, she turns back to me with a sharp pivot. “Well, I should catch up to my kiddos. But Leo, if you ever need help in the evenings and Annie is…busy…I’m always around.”
“That’s very kind. Thank you.” My voice is clipped. It’s my‘thank you for your feedback, please leave my office’voice.
Denise gives Annie one more look—this one distinctly sour—before she sashays away, her leg warmers bouncing with every step.
I wait until she’s at least two brownstones away before I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “That was—”
“A lot?” Annie finishes for me.
“I was going to say ‘painful,’ but yeah. A lot works.”
She laughs, but it sounds forced. Her arms are crossed now, her shoulders still tense.
“You okay?” I ask, stepping a bit closer. The smell of the fog machine is thick here, but I can still catch that hint of her vanilla scent.
“Fine.” She’s watching Emma and Lauren run toward a house with a giant purple spider. She won’t look at me. “Just…people like that. They make me nervous.”
“Denise makes everyone nervous, Annie. It’s her primary hobby. She probably has a spreadsheet of everyone’s secrets stashed somewhere.”
She offers a small smile, but it’s weary. “Yeah. Probably.”
I want to push. I want to ask why she looked like she wanted to bolt into the night the second Denise mentioned her face. There’s a story there and not for the first time, I realize how little I actually know about the woman who’s currently the center of my daughter’s universe.
But Emma is already sprinting back, Lauren hot on her heels. The window for a real conversation slams shut.
“Daddy! One more! The house with the bubbles!Please?”
I look at Annie. She’s already looking down at Emma, her face softening instantly. The tension drains away, replaced by that easy, radiant warmth she reserves for Emma. It’s like she’s flipped a switch.
“One more,” I say, looking at Annie, not the bubbles. “Then we’re done.”
Emma cheers and takes off, and I’m left wondering what the hell just happened.
I turn to Annie. “That seems to happen a lot.”
She raises her eyebrows. “What does?”
“People recognizing you. Thinking you look familiar.” I pause. “I’ve noticed it before when we’re out. People stare at you like they know you from somewhere.”
She shrugs, her face carefully neutral. “I told you. I just have one of those faces.”
“Annie—”
“I’m going to see if Allison needs help with Alyssa.” She’s already turning away, nodding toward where Allison’s bouncing a fussy, bundled-up Alyssa against her shoulder.
