Behind me, Callie cackles on the floor, probably convinced she’s the star of tonight’s comedy special. Mia mutters something and helps her back onto the sofa.
“Time to call it a night,” I say, not looking at either of them. “Do you want to crash in Lily’s room?” I ask Callie.
“Noooo.” She shakes her head frantically. “No offense, but all those unicorns and fairies freak the hell out of me.”
“All right. I’ll drive you home, then.”
“Nah, just call me an Uber.”
“You sure?”
Callie smirks. “Yeah. You can track me through the app if your need for control gets too bad.”
Mia’s already heading to the kitchen again. “I’ll get you some water while you wait.”
Callie watches her go, then lowers her voice, just for me. “She’s a good one.”
I don’t say anything that can and will be used against me in the court of Calista Maverick.
Mia returns with a banana and the biggest drinking glass I own.
“Small sips until the car gets here,” she says, pressing itinto Callie’s hand. “And eat this. Before bed, not after you’ve passed out.” She gets Calista sorted—water, sugar, orders her around with that quiet teacher calm—and one of the most stubborn women in the world complies. She might be a good nanny, after all.
“You working tomorrow?” I ask without thinking.
Callie levels me with a look. “Do you even know me?”
She’s not being dramatic—not this time. Work’s sacred for Callie. That’s why she’s on my team. And why she’s a rising star.
Mia tries to read the room, her gaze bouncing between us, until I add, “She’d never drink before a shift.”
Callie winks and clicks her tongue in agreement. “And that’s why he loves me,” she declares.
I do. She knows it. But I don’t say those words very often—unless it’s to Lily. Then I’m a goddamn jukebox stuck on the same track.
“April’s not the only one holding down the fort for you, you know?”
Oh, honey, I know.My chest tightens with the weight of everything I haven’t made clear enough to her. I’ve done a piss-poor job of showing her how much she means to Lily and me.
I press a kiss to her forehead and try to make it as clear as the breath between us.
“Callie, I’m not sure I’d even be here—sane and good enough for Lily—if it weren’t for you. Fuck the job. I’m grateful you’re my friend. Not my colleague.”
She beams. Not at me, at Mia. “He called me Callie. He never calls me that.”
Fantastic. Of everything I just said, that’s what she takes away from it.
“That’s because you stop listening the moment I cut your name in half.”
On cue, a horn blares outside.
“You sure you’re okay to ride alone?”
“Totally. I didn’t fall. Your nanny knocked me to the ground. I’m just tipsy, not flat-out drunk.”
“Thanks for tonight, Callie,” Mia says, giving her a hug. “I had a great time.”
“Aw, babes. Thank you. And thanks for the banana. Did you know they’re great for hango?—”
