billionaire—they just want to spend time with someone who thinks they’re wonderful.” She ducked her head. “I’m rambling.”
“No, you’re talking and it’s … nice.” Mark scooted as close to her as he could and still remain on his chair. He took a long swig from his drink to relieve the sudden dryness in his mouth. “What’s your favorite song to sing with the kids?”
“‘Build an Ark,’” she replied without hesitation.
He could easily guess the subject matter, so he asked, “Why?” “Because it has a great message and an upbeat tempo so the kids can wiggle and dance. We made up all these movements. It’s fun.” Mark discreetly admired her long hair and thin frame. He could imagine her being silly and singing about Noah and two-by-twos and rain, but he very much wanted to know if the image in his head resembled the real deal. “Let me hear it.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.” She turned rosy red. Her eyes darted to the guy she’d come with. He was showing Anthony a scar on his forearm and bragging about sliding into third base.
“Just a few lines,” Mark encouraged quietly. “I have a daughter, she— maybe she’d enjoy learning the song too.”
She sucked in as if she could draw courage through her breath, before nodding. He’d sing this song a thousand times with Chloe, just to remember the blush on Allie’s cheeks.
Allie cleared her throat. “I can be like Noah …” she began. Her voice was pure and sweet. Gaining confidence as she went, she did little hand movements for each line, her eyes dancing and her body swaying, putting on a performance that drew in the guys on the other side of the table. Their conversation stopped.
Mark had the insane desire to move with her. No wonder the kids loved her. She was—he stopped dead in his thoughts—real.
Allie wiggled her fingers and waving her hands to imitate rain. When she finished, the whole table clapped and she turned bright pink—just like he thought she would. The sight made his heart pound against his rib cage. “Do you sing professionally?” asked Beau.
“No. Well, I did a few musicals in high school and at the local theater, but that was a long time ago.” She fumbled with her napkin, clearly uncomfortable being the center of attention.
“Beau, what’s your latest movie?” George asked, and the conversation changed.
Mark nudged her with his shoulder, the contact zinging right to his gut and then bouncing around. “You should try performing somewhere. At least karaoke—it’s obvious you love to sing.”
“Thanks, but that ship sank a few years ago.”
“You could—” Mark was cut off by Kate, who appeared in front of their table.
“Has everyone had enough to eat?” She didn’t wait for a response. “Okay then, let’s come over here and get those autographs going.” George pouted like a five-year-old as he got out of his seat. Mark reached out to put his hand on the small of Allie’s back and yanked it back at the last second. Stuffing his hands in his pockets seemed like a good idea. She checked her phone.
“Are you in a hurry?”
She tucked the phone guiltily into her back pocket all covered with sparkles—yeah, he’d checked out her backside. He was a guy, okay? “Just excited to get to the hotel and soak in a tub.”
The conversation with Kate about the additional hotel room came to mind. Had Allie asked for the extra room, or was that George? Probably George. He’d dropped several hints about making lunch a standing monthly get-together or meeting up for a game sometime.
Mark glanced down and found a baseball in Allie’s hand. For Anthony, no doubt. And there would be a T-shirt or glossy photo for him to sign too. He’d been temporarily blinded by her cute choir director performance. But in the end, Allie was just like everyone else who wanted a piece of him. At least he’d seen a flicker of truth in her. But, he cautioned himself, a flicker wasn’t enough to sustain a relationship of true value.
Except his gut told him that Allie was different in all the right ways.
Allie handed the baseball to Anthony. “Can you make that out to José, please?”
Anthony poised the sharpie over the ball. “Sure. Is that your son?” “He’s my friend’s son. He’s the cutest kid in the world and he’s probably your biggest fan.” Excitement to give José the baseball built inside her chest and bubbled out as a laugh. “He’ll probably sleep with it. This is going to make his year.”
“Has he been to a game?” asked Anthony.
“He has a hard time sitting still.”
“Sounds like a kid; you should take him,” said Mark. He’d stuck close to her side and at one point Allie swore he’d touched her back. When she turned, his hand was in his pocket. Maybe she’d only been hoping for the contact.
Allie shook her head slightly. “He has autism and a few other health problems. Getting him to his social group is a major effort. He couldn’t sit in the stadium seats for long.”
A deep line appeared between Mark’s brows. “Where’s his social group?”
“At Aaron’s Home for Autistic Children. They have a craft class on Fridays that he loves.”
Anthony handed her back the baseball. “Maybe I could help with that.” He gestured to the pregnant woman Allie had talked to about being a mom. She’d hung out in the corner with Kate and a few of the other staff members during the lunch. Maybe she was Anthony’s personal assistant. That would explain the funny look she gave when Allie asked if she’d won a contest too. She glided over to their group—seriously so graceful.
