Page 27 of Dancing in the Dark

Oh geez. A warm blush fills my cheeks and makes my tummy feel funny too. “Seraphina, please.” I offer her the slip of paper. “I’m a friend of the family. Her dad has given me permission to collect her.”

“This is all I need.” She flicks the paper and slides it into her pocket. “She has another friend of the family pick her up sometimes, too. Caleb, was it?”

“Cato!” Mia corrects the poor woman. Loudly. Tearing her zippers closed and whipping her bag onto her back, she grabs my hand and grips extra tight. “His name is Cato! I call him Uncle Cato sometimes, but he’s not really my uncle, and even if he really was, he acts like a kid most of the time, so I don’t fink calling him Uncle would be right anyway.”

“Cato.” Mrs. Greene nods, humor dancing in her eyes. “His name was Cato. I’m not sure I’ve experienced a single afternoon yet where Mia wasn’t absolutely thrilled to see whoever has come for her. Her dad gets a squeal of delight. Cato, too.”

“And now me.” Happiness buzzes in my blood like bees in a hive. “I’m honored.”

“You should be. Today’s delight was remarkably louder than the others.”

“Don’t tell Cato!” Mia giggles. “He’d get jealous, and then he’d give me moneys and tell me to scream even louder for him, which would get me in trouble wif my teacher.”

I make a show of zipping my lips and throwing away an invisible key. “I won’t tell Cato.”

“It’s always an adventure,” Greene snickers, peeking down at a sweaty, bright red, entirely electric Mia. “I hope you have a fantastic afternoon with your special family friend, Seraphina.”

“Fifi!” she cackles. “Her name is Fifi!”

“Uh huh.” With a wink and a fluttering of her dress, Greene spins on her heels and goes to talk to someone else. Pry a kid off the walls, maybe.

“Oh!” Mia tugs my arm. “Fifi! I sent you a message. Did you get it?”

“Sent me a…” Curious, I lower into a crouch. “Huh?”

“On my watch!” She thrusts her hand forward and almost knocks me out with it. “I can send messages on my watch, but it’s a bit tricky, because the letters are really, realllllly small.” She swipes the screen and pulls up the mostly one-sided chat we’ve been having for the last several weeks.

“That was you?” Thank goodness I didn’t lose my patience and reply with something like, “Who the hell is this, and what do you want, jackass?” Laughing, I grab her hips and shake my head. “Oh, my gosh. I’ve been getting your messages, but I didn’t know they were from you! I even saw you at Aunty Aubree’s party; why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Forgot, I guess. You can send messages back, too, ya know?” She looks up at me through those cartoon eyes she long ago mastered. “You’re s’posed to reply, silly!”

“I will.” I cross my heart and press the tips of my fingers to the center of her chest. “I promise. How do you know my phone number, anyway? Did your dad save it in there?”

She shakes her head so wildly that her hair whips each side of her face. “Cato did.”

“How does he know my number? I never told him!”

She giggles. “He said if anyone asks, to tell them Cato said not to worry your pretty little head about it.”

“Oh my gosh.” I press my hand to my warm cheeks as exasperation and elation and nerves and at least a little disappointment wash through my veins. I guess I was really hoping it was Charlie who programmed my name and number into his little girl’s watch. “Okay, fine. Whatever.” I study her sweet face and luxuriate in the way my heart swells and thumps with happiness. “Are you ready to g⁠—”

“Excuse me?” A pair of scuffed work boots and long legs encased in thick jeans shift in my peripherals. I peek to my left, then up, until I stop on a smiling face half covered in a barbershop beard, the hairs half an inch long and maintained with the kind of precision only a man who likes to look good would care about. His brows shoot high on his forehead, and his lips, visibly thick despite the hair surrounding them, curl with a friendly grin. “Hello. I’m sorry for intruding.”

Curious, I stand tall and still have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “You’re not intruding.” I look around. “Can I help you with something?”

“Wanted an introduction, mostly.” He thrusts his hand forward, his knuckles stopping barely short of my belly. “Victor Ayers.” He hooks his thumb over his shoulder and points to… someone. “Jordy Ayers’ dad.”

“Oh. Hello.” I take his hand. “Seraphina Lewis.” I glance down at a not-so-enthusiastic-anymore Mia. “Very special family friend. I guess Jordy and Mia weren’t in the same class last year?”

“If they were, I assure you, I’d have noticed you then, too. You’re… what? The nanny?” He tightens his grip and grins. “Mia’s dad’s sister? Neighbor?”

“I don’t feel so well, Fifi.” Mia turns a sickly shade of green and leans against my side. Wrapping her arm around my hip, she breathes heavily through her mouth and gulps.

My plans for a fun afternoon dissipate. Instead, I imagine the phone call I’ll have to make, the bad news I’ll have to deliver, and the little girl who’ll prefer the company of her father when she’s under the weather.

“Can we go now?” She groans. “Please?”

“Of course.” I tear my hand free of Victor’s and scoop her weak body up. Bringing her closer and wrapping her legs around my hips, I spare a look for the guy who really should pay attention to his kid—I think he’s the one running with scissors—then I snag her backpack and cross the classroom. Through the door. Along the hall. My throat thickens as dread settles heavily at the base. I move through the school’s main entrance and onto the sidewalk outside, and tucking her hair back, I look down at her slack face and mourn the afternoon we won’t get to spend together. “Why do you think you feel unwell, sweetheart?” I stop in the shade and consider hailing a cab so we don’t have to stay out longer than necessary. “You were happy, and now this. Do you think you ate something funny?”