"You're already getting fries."
"Extra fries."
Ace sighs, but he's smiling. "Extra fries."
I order a coffee and steal one of Wyatt's chicken tenders when he's not looking. He catches me and gasps like I've committed a felony. "Harper! That was my best one!"
"How can you tell which is the best one? They all look the same."
He stares at me, appalled. "They do not all look the same."
Ace leans back in the booth, arm stretched along the seat behind me. "He's right. They don't. You gotta learn tender politics, Goldie."
"Tender politics," I repeat.
"It's a whole thing."
Wyatt nods solemnly, and I have to bite my cheek to keep from laughing.
Halfway through dinner, Wyatt goes quiet for a minute, which, I'm learning, is unusual. He's dragging a fry through his ketchup, drawing little circles, and I can practically see the gears turning.
"Harper?" he says.
"Yeah?"
"Are you Uncle Ace's friend? Like Lola was Daddy's friend?"
The booth goes still. Ace's hand tightens on my shoulder, just barely. I glance at Ace. He's looking at Wyatt with that soft expression he reserves entirely for this kid, the one that cracks open the tough exterior and shows you exactly who he is underneath.
He tilts his head at me.
I look back at Wyatt. "Yeah," I say. "Something like that."
Wyatt processes this. Nods once, seriously, like he's approving a business merger.
"Okay. Good." He bites his fry.
Ace taps on the table. “Wyatt. Harper is the girl I bought Penny for a long time ago.”
Wyatt frowns, glancing between us.
“You’re going to steal her back? Please don’t,” he says, pouting.
"I love Penny. But I’d never take her away from you, Wyatt."
Wyatt looks between Ace and me, and something shifts. "We could share her," he says. "Like, she could be your horse, too. When you're at Uncle Ace's house."
My throat tightens. I didn't expect that. This tiny, gap-toothed kid just offered me a place in his world like it was nothing.
"I'd really like that, Wyatt," I say.
"But I'm still her number one person."
"Obviously."
“I can always get you a new horse, Harper,” Ace chimes in.
“No. It’s okay. We’re good with sharing.”
